Chapter Eighteen

Our world is infinitely changeable. I was just suspecting a man of the worst of crimes, human trafficking, and now was ready to accept an expensive gift and become obligated to him. But I still didn’t know what destiny had prepared for me by introducing Mike into my life, and what obligation he was going to involve me in.

We went inside. It was a nice jewelry store, not too big, but respectable. Showcases, located on three sides, were shining with cleanliness, gold, and gemstones. Five Egyptian men, apparently salesmen, stood in a row, clapping their hands and shouting, “Welcome,” “Congratulations,” and “Merry Christmas.” I, logically assuming that they were giving us their best wishes for Christmas, thanked and wished them Merry Christmas as well.

“Polina.” Suddenly Mike turned to me. He took my hand and I felt that his hand was slightly trembling.

“Are you also cold?” I asked, jokingly.

He looked straight into my eyes. His expression was serious and he reminded me of that man I saw for the first time a year ago, to whom I opened the door of my apartment, his eyes cold and piercing.

“I want you to try on one ring and choose a second one, too.”

“Two rings? Why two?” I was surprised.

He motioned my eyes to the counter with two rings lying on it. One was big, the second one was smaller. They were wedding rings.

“Oh!”

“I love you, Polina. Will you marry me?”

I froze on the spot. Even in fairy tales people often feel numb, I thought to myself. Suddenly I felt a strong headache and ringing in my ears. My body got stiff and refused to obey my wish that it relax. In just few moments, when I was able to move, I looked around at the men standing in a row. They were crying out, clapping, and laughing. It was obvious they were delighted.

Mike did not move either. He stood in front of me, staring into my eyes. His own eyes expressed suspense, mixed with doubt, and with something very tender as well. Why? I wondered. Why is he looking at me this way?

Something dripped on my hand. Dear heaven, those were tears. My tears, or his?

The men fell silent. Mike was waiting, while I was speechless.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when finally I was able to whisper, “Yes.”

A storm of applause and shouts of joy shook the Sultan Jewelry Store.

Did I say that? I thought, and said aloud, “I’m sorry. I was just not expecting that.”

Tears were still running down my cheeks. I rubbed them off my face together with my make-up. Could you imagine what a beauty I was at that moment? My head was splitting from pain into thousands of pieces, and I had the feeling that I had stepped off a cliff. Directly into the deep unknown.

But Mike looked happy. He kept hugging, kissing, and embracing me.

“Please, Polina, choose one more ring, the engagement ring. Ali will show you where to choose.”

Ali took me to the counter, where I saw many gold rings with little white stones. “So many beautiful rings with zirconium,” I said, as I admired them.

“Can I have this one with three stones? It suits the wedding ring.”

“Of course you can,” Mike smiled somewhat mysteriously. “Now we have to wait until they adjust the size. It will take twenty to thirty minutes. We can stay here or walk around the local shops.”

“Let’s sit down here. This headache is killing me.”

While we were waiting, I calmed down a bit and my sense of humor or something similar to it was coming back.

“Usually when a man proposes to a woman, flowers and champagne are the essential accessories,” I quipped for some reason. Champagne? Why would I say that? Again I was chastising myself. Not long ago you were dying of fear in the perfume shop across the way, thinking that he had sold you into slavery! I was ashamed.

“I promise you champagne this night for dinner. And as for flowers, well, in America, if a man gives vegetables to a woman, then he can do without flowers.”

“Vegetables? I’m lost.”

“It’s simple. Tell me, what measuring units are used for diamonds?”

“Carats.”

And then it hit me.

“Carrots!” I laughed. And then realization hit me one more time.

“So those little white stones were dimonds?”

“Yes. They’re diamonds,” modestly replied my future husband.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mike, for choosing a ring with three stones,” I started making excuses. “I did not know they were diamonds. Can we change to another? No? What a shame.”

“Why change?” Mike surprised. “It’s a very beautiful ring.”

“But it’s too expensive,” I murmured almost inaudibly.

But he still heard me.

“It’s not an overly expensive ring. Take it easy.”

But I couldn’t take it easy, because in my understanding, diamonds were not something that could be “not overly expensive.” But I said nothing else. Suddenly I felt very tired, not to mention the headache was still with me.