Our Love Fate

The night is always so quiet.

There may be chaos happening but at night, some part of it is always quiet.

Quiet enough to hear your thoughts. Quiet enough for every noise to seem loud. Quiet enough to think about everything you don’t want to.

Quiet enough to feel wrong in your own skin.

I don’t like the night because it’s too quiet. I feel like I’m being watched from the shadows. The voices that aren’t here anymore enter my ear and it makes me feel like I’m going crazy.

Ya Allah, when will this all end?

“Mariam?”

I flinch at the sound of my name. I shouldn’t. It was spoken softly. Not yelled.

I tear my gaze away from the kitchen window that overlooks the mansion’s garden. The daisies are blooming even in the darkness of the night. I got lost staring out.

I turn my head towards the voice that called me and find Julia looking at me with concern in her eyes.

I need to stop staring out in front of her. She gets worried.

I lift my hands and sign, “I’m okay,”

“Are you sure?”

I nod. Julia works as one of the maids at my uncle’s mansion. I don’t think he or Aunt Irene know her name. Maybe her face because she’s really beautiful.

She’s kind, even when Aunt Irene or Emma are mean to her. Her face always shines whether its day or night. She’s always smiling. And she’s the only one who talks to me away from work.

Or maybe that’s just because she’s the only one who knows sign language.

“Mrs Morgan is asking for dessert,” she says after a moment of studying my face.

She does that a lot. She tries to read my face like my thoughts are written on it. But I’m sure they’re not because she doesn’t say anything.

I nod then walk to the refrigerator where I kept the custard to cool. I pull it open and carry the rectangular dish out. Julia closes the door and grabs three bowls from the cabinet as I place the dish onto the tray.

She sets the bowls and spoons onto the tray then I pick it up.

“I’ll carry it,” she says, reaching out her hand.

I shake my head and walk out of the kitchen. I walk through the long hallway decorated with paintings. Beige walls give it an elegant look as if you stepped into a castle. The floor tiles reflect the ceiling in their vision- thanks to the maids working hard to keep the mansion clean.

The hallway is quiet tonight. It is, every night. Maids and servants are found in these hallways during daylight, cleaning, dusting, some bringing essentials to rooms upstairs for Uncle Elion and Aunt Irene- sometimes Emma as well if she’s home.

The sound of conversation reaches my ear as I near the dining hall. I walk in and find my family members seated around the long dining table.

Uncle Elion, in his usual attire of coat and pants, is seated at the head of the table, his jaw clenched, shoulders tensed. Aunt Irene, wearing one of her off-white dresses with her hair pinned up perfectly, is seated on his right, her face scrunched up in anger and Emma, in her hoodie and sweats, is seated on his left, scrolling on her phone.

Whereas Uncle Elion and Aunt Irene are always dressed formally, Emma wears whatever she feels comfortable in.

“How did he find out about this?” Aunt Irene asks through gritted teeth.

I set the tray down and head to clean the dirty plates from the table.

“I don’t know,” Uncle Elion says, his voice sounds calm but holds a tremor of anger, “I have been careful. But the rumors have already started,”

Putting the plates aside, I pour the dessert in each bowl as Uncle and Aunt continue to talk.

“What are we going to do, Elion?” she asks, “are you going to accept his proposal? Give away our daughter as a treaty?”

My hands still for a moment before I resume my task, placing each bowl in front of them.

“Of course not!” He snaps, “Do you think I’d let him use my daughter against me?-”

“Who said you have to give your daughter?”

Our attention turns to Emma, who is still scrolling through her phone.

“What do you mean?”

She shrugs, eyes still glued to her phone, “I’m just saying if he wants someone as a treaty from your house, it could be your niece.”

My body locks at her suggestion.

“Emma.” Elion warns.

She rolls her eyes, “I’m only suggesting this.” she says then stands up, “You’re the one who brought this debt onto our family by shaking hands with the wrong person. Now, if someone is offering to help you, why don’t you shoot two birds with one stone? Pay the debt and get rid of this burden from our heads.” Emma looks at me from the corner of her eyes when she says the word ‘burden’.

Emma isn’t one to sugarcoat her feelings. She made it clear from day one that she didn’t like the idea of me staying at her house. I don’t blame her.

“I’m taking this to my room,” she says, taking her bowl and walking out.

Silence settles into the room, Emma’s words hanging between me and my uncle and aunt.

Get rid of this burden from our heads.

Being called a burden hurt for the first few months when I came here. After a while, I got used to it. Because there was no lie in it. You call people for who they are.

“Have you eaten, Mariam?” Uncle Elion asks, as softly as he can despite the frustration brewing inside him.

I haven’t but I nod, nonetheless.

“Head to bed. It’s late.”

I lower my head and walk out.

“You should consider-”

“Enough, Irene.”

—

Emma’s words keep replaying in my head as I offer my Isha prayer. It replays again as I ask Allah for the same thing as every night. Then again as I lay in bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling.

You’re the one who brought this debt onto our family.

Uncle Elion is in debt? Is that why he’s been looking so troubled for the past months? Is that why we’re staying in New York and not traveling?

Uncle Elion travels a lot for his business. We never stay in one place for more than a few weeks or a month. But we haven’t gone anywhere since landing in New York for Emma’s graduation.

Is the man who is offering to help Uncle also in New York?

If he wants someone as a treaty from your house, it could be your niece.

Julia used to tell me how somewhere a person is used as a treaty by marrying them off. She told me this because she came across a book and in it, a woman was married off to a man who was helping her father by joining businesses. Or something like that.

Is that what Uncle Elion has to do?

Emma already has someone she is going to marry so he can’t give her.

Before I can think it through, I get up from my bed, put on my slippers and walk out of the room.

I take the stairs down as quietly as I can and make my way towards the servants quarter to get Julia.

I knock on her door twice. I hear a muffled voice before the door opens and Julia stands wearing her night suit, rubbing her eyes.

“Mariam?” she covers her mouth when a yawn escapes, “what’s wrong?”

“I want to go talk to Uncle Elion.” I sign, “I need you there to translate,”

“Right now?”

I nod.

She sighs, “okay. Let me wear my slippers.”

I wait patiently as she goes to grab her slippers. When she returns, we make our way back to the main house, taking the stairs to go to the study where Uncle Elion has been spending most of his nights.

The light sneaking through the bottom of the door proves that I’m right.

I take a deep breath before knocking on his door.

A second passes then I hear a chair scraping, then footsteps. The door opens.

“Mariam?” He frowns, looking at me then Julia then back at me, “is everything alright?”

I nod then sign.

“She wants to talk to you about something,” Julia translates.

Uncle Elion looks at me for a moment before stepping aside, “come in. I think I know what it’s about,”

Julia and I step inside the room.

Uncle Elion closes the door then heads to his desk, rounding it before settling onto his chair. There’s a glass of his favorite scotch sitting in front of him, some papers scattered around.

He looks worn out. He got rid of his tie and coat, now he’s only in his black pants and white shirt, which is wrinkled. His hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it since dinner. And there are dark circles underneath his eyes.

“What is it, Mariam?” he asks, bringing me out of my observing thoughts.

Too quiet.

“Is what Emma said at dinner true?” I sign, Julia translates, her brow furrowing.

His jaw clenches, “it’s none of your concerns-”

“But I want to help.” I cut him off, “If there’s someone who can help you, I’ll be the treaty, I don’t mind.”

If he uses me, I won’t be a burden on him. I might become a burden to someone else but I’ll find a way to repay him as well. Maybe he’ll let me work or give me something to do as repayment.

“Mariam..”

“Why don’t you consider it?” I suggest, Julia following along, “if it helps you-”

I stop myself when I catch something on his face.

He already decided.

As if realizing he let his emotion slip, Uncle Elion quickly tries to cover it, “It is not that simple.” He says, as calmly as he can, “we don’t know how he found out about our… situation. We don’t know what else he knows or could do. He’s been after us for a long time, there is something else he’s not telling-”

“It’s okay. I really don’t mind.” I say, making him stop, “You’ve taken care of me ever since mama and baba died. If this is the way I can repay you, I’m happy to.”

I’ll find a way to repay that man as well.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. I see Julia’s concerned face from the corner of my eye.

I don’t have to say anything else to convince him.

I didn’t have to come here in the first place.

He had already decided that I’d be the treaty.