Promise Me - Part 4

The room was filled with people, elegantly dressed ladies, posh-looking gentlemen in their smart coats and ties. It was one of those high society gatherings that were starting to get on my nerves. Superficial people were talking about superficial stuffs. Their laughters were muffled and smiles were mere decorations of faces - none were sincere.

These people were not genuinely interested in you. They were more interested in how any relations with you can make them more money - If I rub your back then you better rub mine. If their lives were not made better by knowing you, you should not be around. What a sick relationship. I was getting tired of this charade. I just wanted out of this circle of 'friends'. I could not longer see them as I used to. Like me, they were just fakes.

She never liked this kind of gathering. I thought as my mind, once again, fleeted to Diana. It was ironic that a dead person could make the living feel more regrets than when she was alive. I was constantly haunted by the promise, the scenes before her death, the sins that I had committed to her and to God. Images kept drifting into my mind, like a broken down film that would go on and on. Was I at the brink of insanity?

An image of myself at the mirror by the bar counter alarmed me. Is that me? That haggard man, with sunken eyes, surrounded by dark rims - who looked so lost and seemed enveloped in his own world of guilt. What had become of me? I had foolishly thought that if I dragged myself into these gatherings, I'd find my lost self - the man brimmed with confidence, the ladies' man, the suave man. I had deceived myself into believing that by going back to doing the things that I normally did, I would get a sense of peace. How wrong I was.

"Ramzi Darling!" A high-pitched lady's voice called me. I turned towards the crowd. The latest desire of my life was coming towards me. I had a string of lovers accompany me to all these functions. I never bothered asking Diana because to me, she was just too dowdy to be next to me during these high society events. Her rightful place was, nowhere else, but at 10 Sixth Avenue - a posh bungalow house that I bought for her. And I thought that was enough to show that I cared a little about her well-being.

"Ramzi, honey. You poor thing!" I felt a soft, wet kiss on my right cheek. Her sweet scent filled my nostrils. Roza was the epitome of beauty - no man could resist. She was like a goddess of desire who would make every man lap at just her scent. A few months back, I was one of those man, a man who believed that desires were meant to be fully satisfied, a man who believed that neither the heaven nor hell should interfere with man's primate need for a woman. After all, wasn't that the reason woman was created in the first place? I used to make myself believe that.


I felt her squeeze my inner thighs as she slipped into the seat next to me. "Ramzi, Ramzi, Ramzi. What have that woman made you?" Her sing-a-song, nasal voice, that once would drive me to out of the world excitement, suddenly made me feel queasy. I was not in the mood to retaliate her wonton remark about Diana. "You still have me. What about right now?" She drew her legs closer to mine, purring her request. The fuel of my anger started brewing within me. I wanted to burst out, screaming at the top of my lungs, asking her to just leave me alone. Couldn't she understand? Was that all she wanted out of me?

I grabbed her hand and led her to a vacant room. I was like a raging bull. If that was what she wanted, I'd just give it to her! But the thought of Diana stopped me. Diana made me think. Diana made me sane again. Why was I drawing myself to more sins just because I hated her? I hated Roza. She was the cause, the instigator, the demon of my sins. I had to put a stop to it. I had to do it for myself, for Diana and for our children.

"Roza, I think it's best that we stop our relationship here." I said as she started to undress. Her eyes widened with surprise. "I think we should stop seeing each other. It is not good for either of us" I repeated.

She was silent for a moment. With a smirk on her face, she said," She's dead, Ramzi. D-E-A-D. DEAD! She's not going to haunt you. Anyway, you were the one who once said that you wish she would die soon so we could have our bed romping more often and..." My hand that swept hard on her cheek broke her sentence halfway. My body was shaking uncontrollably with anger and disgust.

She stared at me with eyes so filled with hatred and anger - like an eagle eyeing its prey intensely waiting for the right time for the kill. "How dare you hit me! It was you who said those words. I was just giving you what you need and she could not!"

"Shut up, Roza" I could hear myself wheeze as I uttered those words under my breath. "I'm sorry." That was all I could say as I walked out of the room. I did not want to look back. I could not. I hastened my steps out of the dreadful place. I just needed to get away - far, far away. Give me peace, God. Give me peace.