That evening both my parents arrived, much to mine and Omar’s surprise. He and my father had parted under horrible circumstances initiated by me. Omar lost over a million dollars after my horrendous oversight to finalize transfers and transactions. His parting words to my father included firing him, which cost my dad untold revenue’s since Omar had been his wealthiest client.
It was Omar that should have been upset at my father’s appearance, but he seemed to take it all in stride. It was my dad that was the asshole, as was his normal way, and as he went on the offensive, I watched my mother wither in mortification. She didn’t know I was in a wheelchair, up on the second floor and listening as they entered the penthouse.
“Richard, Melinda, we are so grateful you could come on such short notice.” Omar said in polite greeting.
“Khalid,” my dad replied curtly. “Where is Anna? Just so you know, we intend on taking her home to the states—immediately. She is obviously not safe here. You obviously did not protect her and we don’t trust you to do so in the future.”
My mom tried to interfere, “Richard, the man has shown us incredible hospitality.”
“Shut up Melinda, let me handle this,” my dad barked, shutting mom up.
Omar was still calm and assured and appeared un-rattled by my father’s confrontational tone, “If Anna wished to go back to the states, I would of course immediately facilitate her departure. She however has indicated she wishes to remain here, with me.
My mom spoke up, “Richard, she loves him.”
“She’s too young to know what love is. How can she love this piece of shit anyways? She doesn’t know what is best for her and we have to take her home. Now!”
Both my mother and I gasped at my dad’s foul language and I felt like slapping him for talking that way about the man I loved. I shouted from the balcony, “Dad! Oh my god! How dare you talk to him that way! He is soon to be a king! Apologize now!”
My mother dashed for the stairs as soon as she saw me and my dad pulsed his jaw as he balled his hands into fists. Omar stood calmly, still unaffected by the name calling, and neither man spoke as my mother rushed to hug me in the wheelchair. She was crying and shaking as soon as she saw some of the bruises. She gently petted at them, stroking first my cheek and eye and then down my neck and the huge one that covered almost all of my upper arm on the left side. Both my wrists showed thick, deep bruising from the zip ties they’d used to secure me to the chair, and she choked on sobs as her eyes traveled up and down my battered exterior.
I whispered, “Mom, I’m okay, it will all heal. Just looks really bad.”
She nodded and left her free hand at her mouth as she tried to hide her shock and concern. I turned back towards the railing and stretched over the banister so my dad could see me, “Dad, now! I won’t stand for you to talk to my future husband that way. Apologize or I will never talk to you again.”
I really thought that would do the trick, but my dad’s jaw was set and as much as that made him a pit bull in the business world, I didn’t appreciate his tenacity in this moment. He barked up at me, “I will never allow you to marry this, this –No Anna. Melinda, help her gather her stuff, we are heading home this instant.” Then he turned back to Omar, “You are not welcome near her ever again. Is that understood Khalid?”
Omar took a deep breath and I muttered under my breath, “Oh shit.”
He surprised me however by completely ignoring my father and instead he told the closest servant, “Please show Mr. Potts to his room.” Then he addressed my father, “Richard, it’s lovely to have you in our home. As the father of my future bride, you will be treated with the same deference she and I are shown. Dinner will be served in the main dining room promptly at six. I suspect you’d care to wash up and rest from the long trip. Now I intend on spending time with my beautiful fiancé.”
My mom stifled a shocked sound at how nice Omar was being and both she and I gaped at the scene below us. It was apparent my dad didn’t know how to deal with all his previous decrees falling on deaf ears. The servant picked up my dad’s bag and said, “Sir, if you’d please follow me.” My dad remained rooted and unable to respond.
My mom giggled then, “Good grief,” she mumbled, “I’ve never seen him rendered speechless.”
I reached over and put my hand over my mom’s and whispered back, “Omar can handle dad, he rules over an entire country.”
After a moment, my dad quickly turned on his heel and walked off, in the wrong direction. The servant waited, and again simply said, “Sir,” indicating which way to go. With a huff, my dad followed him out of sight.
Omar took a deep breath and then immediately bounded up the stairs, “Melinda, I am so sorry for this upheaval. Will you please join us in the parlor?” He turned to me and leaned down to gently meet lips, “Sweetheart, you needed go through the stress of seeing him again if you wish not too. Are you okay? Do you need to lay back down?”
“I’m okay Omar. I’m sorry he treated you so badly. I won’t stand for it and I refuse to let him think my silence is agreement. I love you, and I want that known.” Then in a whisper that only he could hear, I said, “I belong to you now.”
He kissed me then, like a real kiss and I welcomed his tongue into my mouth without any fear or hesitation.
“I love you goddess.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Once I was wheeled into the parlor, and helped onto the couch, with my leg elevated, my mom settled next to me and picked up my hand. She petted at me and continued to make sounds whenever she noticed a new bruise.
“Why did dad even come?” I asked.
“He insisted darling, he is your father after all, and my husband, I didn’t feel I could tell him no.”
I sighed, “I have every intention of staying here. I won’t obey him.”
“I know sweetheart, but I have to partially agree with your father, I really do think it might be best if you came home for a while. If nothing else to fully heal and clear your head.”