Nura

By Anna T. Pope

Nate Robins has it all. He is a brilliant trauma surgeon, ex-marine, and a certified genius with a wonderful wife and more money than he could ever hope to spend. But it all comes crashing down when a school shooting results in his wife's premature death.

Suddenly alone for the first time sin

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anna T. Pope
• Release date: Oct 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798868954610

Book preview

The Beginning 

Oct. 2011, Morocco

Where is it? Is it here?!

The excited shout was followed by a whirlwind of wild curls as the dark-skinned teen came crashing into the room, almost falling over her feet in her haste.

It’s here, it’s here! Calm down, you crazy girl, before you bring the whole house down! Malika exclaimed, shaking her head at her niece as the girl tried to cover up the pieces of the vase that had ended up on the floor when she stormed in as if the sound of the glass breaking had somehow slipped Malika’s notice.

Sorry, auntie, Nura said, looking properly chastised but for a glint in her eye still present as she eyed the big envelope clutched in Malika’s hands.

Here. the woman sighed before handing it to her, knowing full well that her niece wouldn’t be able to concentrate until she read its entire content.

I’m in! I got in! Nura screamed after a minute, making Malika almost fall out of her chair at the suddenness of it.

I swear you are going to give me a heart attack one of these days, Nura. she chastised, trying for a glare, but as she looked at the girl and saw her elated face, the image of pure happiness etched into every inch of it, she just smiled indulgently and got up to give her a proper hug.

Congratulations, habibi. I knew you could pull it off. she said as Nura hugged her back and felt tears starting to soak into her dress.

What am I going to do? You know that father will get mad when he finds out. I seriously doubt that he’ll let me attend. And if he doesn’t, there is no way I can go. I have no money. Nura said once she calmed down as she sat beside her aunt, feeling slightly dejected. 

We’ll figure something out, Habibi. Don’t you worry. her aunt said, patting her back comfortingly, and even though Nura still had doubts, she couldn’t help but smile as she hugged the letter declaring that she had been accepted into the University in Madrid close to her chest.

~

Get your hijab and come downstairs, Nura. There is someone your father wants you to meet. her mother’s stern voice drifted from the doorway, making her look up from her book. The woman was unsmiling like usual, her eyes scanning the mess strewn across Nura’s room with a disgusted look. Thankfully, she chose not to comment and just turned around and left, telling Nura that she better hurry herself because if her mother thought there was no time for a fight, then those guests must be important.

Nura got out of bed, frowning in confusion as she went to do as her mother had asked, thinking about the mysterious person her father wanted her to meet. It was an unusual request since, on most days, her father was happy to pretend that she didn’t exist, choosing to focus solely on her brother, whom he was grooming to take over his spice business once he was old enough. 

She pulled the hijab on, the material soft and lovely-looking with its dark red color and small white petals painted sparsely over it, but as she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt as if she would suffocate if she didn’t take it off.

It was not that she hated it or what it represented; on the contrary, she thought it was a wonderful thing and always admired the other girls and women she encountered on the street during her walk to and from school. Still, when it came to her, there was just something that didn’t feel right.

She sighed and closed her eyes for a second or two, breathing in and out evenly until she was sure she was in the right mental state to endure her father’s presence before leaving her room and going downstairs.

As soon as she entered the room that her father used to greet guests, her heartbeat spiked up as her eyes fell on the people gathered around the table filled with cups of tea and an assortment of sweets, pastries, and fruit. 

Nura, daughter, there you are. her father said as he stepped closer, catching her elbow tightly and pulling her toward their guests.

This is Nura, my daughter, he said to the man standing a few feet away. The man, who must have been close to fifty, his hair streaked with grey and receding at the temples, his belly big and almost bursting out of the smart, white shirt in the middle, smiled widely at the sight of her.

His beady, black eyes slid down her body and back, making her shiver in disgust as a vicious glint appeared in them, and his smile turned gleeful.

Nura, this is Mr. Yazid. He owns the chain of stores where we sell our spices. He’ll be your husband once you finish high school. her father suddenly proclaimed with a big smile, something she rarely saw directed at her.

And as soon as those words hit her ears, she was suffocating again. She couldn’t breathe, and her heart was beating up a storm in her chest as she took a step back and then another without realizing it until she was actively running out of the room and up the stairs, not stopping until she was in her room, behind locked doors.

Nura! she could hear her father’s voice booming from the other side as she slid down to her knees, feeling utterly numb while her entire life flashed before her eyes.

What is the meaning of this!? Open this door right now! the man continued to shout, but she could barely hear his voice anymore, her mind echoing from her own screaming.

She was mad. No, she was more than angry; she was absolutely furious. 

Husband! That slimy, fat rat is the man she’s supposed to marry! Hell no!

She stood up and fixed her clothing slowly, not minding one bit her father’s ragging on the other side of the door as she did so before she calmly opened the door to be met with her father’s red face.

Her head snapped back in the next moment as her father’s palm connected with her cheek, a fierce burn spreading through the skin soon after, making her vision swim with tears.

You insolent little child! How dare you disrespect me so in front of our future in-laws!? I have never been so humiliated in my life! I will call them back, and you will go back down and apologize for your abhorrent behavior. Is that understood!? the man screamed in her face, a vein in his forehead fit to bursting, so big was his anger.

No.

Excuse me?

I said no, Nura said as she straightened up, her chin up and her head held high as she faced off her father.

I’m not going to apologize, and I’m certainly not going to marry that man. I’m going to Madrid. I’ve applied to the University there and just got accepted. I’m going to study graphic design, and there is nothing you can do to change my mind. Nura said, her voice confident and strong despite feeling the opposite. 

And as her father’s face suddenly went slack, not a trace of anger or any other emotion in it, her blood turned cold. 

Goodbyes 

Jan. 2012, New York

Time of death: 07:30 pm. 

Nate pulled the bloody scrubs off, as if they had offended him, and tossed them into the disposal bin, his jaw clenched tight as he tried to control his emotions, one steady breath at a time.  

He had just started to calm down when he saw the surgical nurse pull a white sheet over Millie’s head, and all his efforts were immediately washed down the drain. He quickly turned away since his eyes started burning with tears of anger and frustration. He desperately needed some air, so he almost ran out of the operating room and straight out of the building as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. 

As soon as he was out in the open, the tears broke out, and Nate found himself sobbing like a baby and not the experienced surgeon he was. 

He wasn’t sure why his reaction was so violent. Millie was not the first to die on his table; she certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

Maybe it was the fact that she was only five, and being an ex-military trauma surgeon, Nate was more used to dealing with older patients, war-wounded veterans who knew exactly what they were signing themselves for, as the constant shadow of death hung over their heads like a silent promise.  

But Millie was so young, innocent, with a whole life to live, and for it to be snatched away before she had the opportunity to live, squeezed something deep inside Nate, making it harder for him to breathe. 

He took big gulps of air, trying to calm down since he still needed to go and inform her parents, and just the thought of it made his stomach roll as if trying to eat itself.  

After years of working and dealing with death in the military and then his own hospital, Nate still couldn’t help but hate that part of the job.  

How do you go and explain to the parents of a five-year-old that they will never see their daughter again? 

People in his profession usually say that you must detach yourself and look at it as a job and nothing more, but Nate was never able to do that, no matter how much he tried, something he now cursed himself for.  

He allowed himself a couple of more minutes to just breathe in the harsh winter air and to think about the only good thing about this whole situation, the fact that he was going to go home to the love of his life after the dreaded talk was over and done with. And just the thought of Eli was enough to put a slight smile on his face as he felt the worst tension finally leave his body. 

~

As soon as he entered the house, the smell of cooked food assaulted his senses, making him smile. 

Love? he called out and heard Eli calling for him from the kitchen. He took off his coat and hat and hung them on the rack before making his way over there. He stopped at the doorway as the burden of his horrible day finally eased off his shoulders at the pretty picture in front of him.  

Eli was checking the lasagna baking in the oven, apparently not satisfied as she put it back in, her little body covered with the ‘Blonds do it better!' apron she had gotten as a birthday present from Nate’s best friend, Megan. Nate smiled as he remembered Eli going tomato red from embarrassment when she opened the gift, but he knew the blond secretly loved it. 

Hi, love, Nate said as Eli looked up, her dirty blond curls bouncing around her head and a brilliant smile spreading over her face. 

Hi, she answered, walking up to him. He put one of his hands on Eli’s dimpled cheek, the other tangling in her wild curls as he lowered his head to kiss her softly.  

At the feeling of warm breath on his lips, Nate’s blood warmed up, as it always did in her presence, so he deepened the kiss while slowly guiding Eli backward until her back collided with the table.  

Nate’s tongue invaded her mouth in a scorching kiss as he tore the apron off, his hands traveling all over Eli’s body before lifting her up to sit on the table. Eli’s hands wrapped around his neck as Nate pulled her closer so that he was standing between the blondes' parted legs, their bodies flush against each other and soon they were lost to the world, and not even the smell of burnt food was enough to bring them back anytime soon. 

I love you, Eli., Nate said to his wife of two years when they were in their bed a couple of hours later, Eli’s head on his chest and his nose full of the blonde's curls. 

I love you too, honey, she whispered back before their breathing slowed down and they were asleep. 

~

Feb 2012, New York

Nate stared at the white, wooden coffin being lowered into the ground, his mind completely blank and his body frozen in time.  

He knew that everyone expected him to say something, but he just sat there staring at Eli’s smiling picture, praying that this was a horrible nightmare and that he would wake up soon with her damned curls in his mouth. 

What do you even have to say when the love of your life is dead? 

She can’t hear you anymore, and the rest of them don’t deserve to hear the words reserved only for her.

After the funeral, the house was full of people offering condolences and words of comfort, but Nate could only think about how much he wished they were the ones six feet under the ground and not Eli.  

He knew that that was a horrible thing to think, and maybe he was going to go to hell for it, and he’d most definitely feel guilty about it later on, but at that moment, all Nate felt was anger.  

At them for being alive, at the son of a bitch that killed her, at himself for not being there to protect her, and most of all at Eli for leaving him alone even though she had promised to always be by his side. 

Are you sure? I can stay, man, for as long as you need. Megan said as they stood at the front door, saying goodbye. The house was blissfully empty again, seeing as everyone had already left, and it was just Nate and her now.  

I am sure, Meg. I need to be alone now. Nate rasped out, his throat hurting a bit as he realized that that was probably the most he had spoken the whole day. Megan nodded slowly, her eyes shining and jaw clenched, but managing to keep it together.  

Nate knew that this was hard for her, too, since Megan had loved Eli like a sister, but it still didn’t change the fact that he didn’t have the strength or the will to be there for anyone right then. 

Meg eventually waved goodbye and left, and Nate closed the door slowly behind her. 

He walked through the empty house aimlessly for a while, going into every room as if expecting that the next one would be the winner and that he would somehow find Eli in there, reading or grading like she used to do until he found himself back in the kitchen standing in the doorway. 

His eyes wandered over the room, looking but not really seeing anything until they froze on the colorful piece of material lying by the stove. The ‘Blonds do it better!' apron lay there, and he felt his eyes starting to sting as his legs carried him toward it. 

He gently took it in his shaking hands, as if afraid it would rip apart at the contact and vanish just as Eli had, before pressing it to his nose and inhaling hard, letting the scent of cinnamon invade his senses as he fell to the ground.  

This was the first time he cried since the shooting, Nate thought, as he sobbed into the piece of clothing still smelling of her until the exhaustion pulled