同心难改 英文原著小说.doc

I Can’t Think Straight SHAMIM SARIF For Hanan, the love of my life, who taught me that truth could be stranger than fiction, and much more beautiful. And for Ethan and Luca, my loves, my life. Chapter 01 Amman, AND THEN THERE was the question of getting dressed, and time was running dangerously short. Reema could hardly spend this last hour before her daughter’s engagement party arguing with Halawani about the cake. It was evident from the bulging smear of gold icing that was still slipping down the fabric-draped wall of the vast entrance courtyard that it was her own idiotic staff who had damaged it, probably Rani, wanting to be in charge of the fragile tower of soft sponge and peaked icing, and instead staggering into the wall under its unexpected weight. What did Halawani bake his cakes with anyway, to get that heaviness? As though the more substance and solidity the thing had the better. It crossed her mind that perhaps she should have ordered it sent from London, or better yet, Paris. But if Reema was to be honest with herself (which she had spent a lifetime successfully avoiding, since honest appraisal of one’s motives only caused more trouble than she had energy or inclination to deal with) she had not felt her daughter deserved it. Not for the fourth engagement. Three previous French sponges had already been sent for, admired and eaten, and then she had been forced to taste the bitterness of their regurgitation in her mouth when the engagements had been called off. Although, this time, she was sure that the betrothal would stick. This time, she was hopeful that at the age of twenty-eight, and despite two expensive, American degrees behind her, Tala had finally learned the most important lesson of life – that love and ideals were not actually real. Everyone loved the thought of them. Reema herself loved to read about them in books and watch them on television. But there was a reason why romance and passion were so suited to fiction; and to learn this lesson