Her face. It’s so filled with compassion.
“The queen would come by herself at least three times a week. The king and eventually their son came every Sunday. They’d stay in my room for hours at a time. They’d talk to me, not expecting an answer.”
She dips her head, taking in the enormity of what was given to me.
“What good people. How long did it take to start opening up?”
“Six months. That’s with the finest psychotherapy they could buy. The best doctors and nurses. But in the end I think it was the tenderness and eventually the love coming toward me that healed my spirit. That, and a little red ball. Tarik and Kwai would sit on the floor by me and roll it in my direction. It took two months before I’d send it back. They were remarkable boys.”
For the first time a little smile breaks out.
“You are a testament to the strength of a human being. It’s remarkable.”
“I’m still a work in progress.”
“I don’t know how you ever made it through. Oh, Zan. It’s such a heartbreaking story.”
“It took a whole year before they broached the subject of me becoming a member of the family.”
“How did Kwai react?”
“He was the eldest at ten, but I don’t think he understood. Tarik was eight but he was an old soul. Right from the beginning he welcomed me, befriended me. Taught me more than you can imagine.”
“And the king?”
“He only showed me love. His compassion equaled the queen’s. Every day I’ve tried to be worthy of the great gift they’ve given me.”
She looks at me with such tenderness. Then she leans in and takes my face in her hands.
“I need to kiss you,” she whispers.
Never deny a woman what she needs.