Butterfly Effect

40. Cry Baby

Jana's second full day in her birthplace was spent locked up in her personal chambers.

It was impossible to get the hysterical princess out of her room, so unbelievably impossible that Teta Salma was the person to break her the news. Or, what she thought was news to the young woman.

Julian had tried to console her but when she refused to open the door, he resorted to sliding a letter through the bottom of her double doors.

She managed to peel herself out of bed only to read the note, it was written in his handwriting.

My Dearest Angel,

Rest assured, Keenan and I will take charge of representing you and speaking with all the significant individuals necessary to initiate the execution plan.

I completely understand if you require some solitude today, and I will respect your need for space. However, whenever you're ready, please don't hesitate to reach out to me on my personal phone. I have also made the necessary adjustments to our schedules, allowing us to prolong our stay in Egypt for however long you wish to stay.

Je t'aime.

Forever yours,
Julian.

Her fingers grazed over the very last line, bleary eyes struggling to keep open.

A sense of depletion washed over her, leaving her hollow and empty, yet she couldn't pinpoint its origin. Last night's visit to Keenan's room lingered as a mistake, one that she deeply regretted once her pitiful tears subsided and she was left to gaze upon his expression. It held nothingness, speaking volumes without uttering a single word.

That sight was enough to calm the tumult in her heart. Turning on her heels, she retraced her steps back to her own room, relieved that the overwhelming emotions had dissipated. However, a sickening feeling engulfed her as she realized she had sought solace in his presence.

Teta Salma's words dripped with pity, just as she had anticipated.

She couldn't decide what was worse, the haunting memories of their forbidden touches or the faces laden with pity when those memories resurfaced.

Jana concluded that the pity, above all else, was what she despised the most.

When she finally mustered the strength to leave the confines of her bed, Jana sought solace in the pulsating water of the shower, still clad in her pyjamas.

Sitting in the center, she curled up with her legs pulled tightly against her chest, her arms resting on her knees. Burying her face in her arms, she succumbed to the overwhelming urge to cry.

And cry she did.

The hot water cascaded down Jana's body, mixing with her tears as they streamed down her face. 

Each sob echoed through the bathroom, a release of the pain that had been festering within her for far too long.

The haunting memories of their forbidden touches seemed to seep out of her pores, mingling with the water, as if the shower could somehow cleanse her of the guilt and shame she carried.

But as the water continued to pour over her, Jana couldn't escape the faces laden with pity that haunted her mind. What was to come. The sympathetic glances and whispered conversations that followed her wherever she went felt like a constant reminder of her perceived weakness.