Page 11 of Mine to Take

CHAPTER EIGHT

KIRSTEN

The flurry of activity that occupied the compound in his absence had been replaced by a quiet calm, the occasional sounds of kids playing soccer. But no shouting, no target practice.

“This place is different when you are gone,” I said.

“How so?”

“Louder, chaotic.”

He laughed slightly, and I felt a bit like a child tattling on my siblings.

We walked quietly for a while and I looped my pinky finger through his, unsure of the etiquette surrounding public displays of affection, especially as it concerned me. He responded by securing the link with the bend of his finger and I leaned slightly closer to him, embracing the small moment of contentment. He had covered his head and face too on this walk. I was curious and about to ask why.

“Tell me about Maxwell Caukins,” he said and I stumbled to a stop at the mention of his name.

“How do you know Max?”

He raised his eyebrows slightly, an indication that very little escapes his knowledge. “He’s the most vehement in leading the search for you. And his interest seems to be in you, not your husband.”

It was the first time he had ever mentioned a search for me. I’d almost forgotten how sheltered he had kept me from news. I’d enjoyed the peace of not knowing, the bliss of ignorance. It was also a clear reminder that his reach was far and wide. He had sources all over the globe and missed nothing.

I had no interest or need to lie to him, so I told him about Max, but I also suspected he knew some of this already. A test of my honesty? I told him we had a brief but very passionate relationship when he separated from his wife. But he chose to go back to her and it wrecked me more than any other heartbreak before it and I found solace in Chaz’s arms. Blinded by the need to be heal my shattered heart, I refused to see all of the signs right in front of me about who Chaz really was.

“Max works for the CIA, and I think at the end of the day, he had a harder time getting over me than he thought he would, and I think he feels guilt about me ending up with Chaz.”

“I don’t see how anyone could ever get over you…I won’t,” another raw admission from him that stopped me in my tracks.

Farid would disappear again for a few days, this time telling me goodbye first after I scolded him for not doing so before. He once again returned in the middle of the night, rousting me gently from sleep to make love.

Another book, Hemingway this time, another chocolate bar, withhazelnuts, appeared on the night stand and my heart melted at the thoughtfulness of the gifts, how much these tugged at my heart more than any piece of jewelry or trinket would, and he knew it. He was paying attention.

“Another book shopping trip,” I teased when he returned with my coffee. He answered with a wink.

We walked the grounds in the crisp sunshine, my pinky looped in his. I lifted my face to the sky to allow the sunshine to warm my eyes and my skin through the hijab. He paused slightly and looked off into the distance.

“What is it?”

He shook his head slightly. “There are more drones today.”

“What?” I asked startled. I could neither hear, nor see a thing out of the ordinary. But it explained why he covered himself up too out here. It hadn’t been intentional, but his anonymity had become legendary and as such he intended to keep it that way. There were other people out walking, as if it was a normal neighborhood, so our presence was not unique, and shouldn’t raise suspicion.

“Not today” had turned into three more weeks together…but I could tell he was about to remove one of the words from that statement.

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