Love's Slave (manxman)

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

(The infamous Naked Cowboy in Times Square)

Kamal

It's funny how you can live in a place like the world renowned New York City, almost smack dab in the heart of Times Square, one of the most famous locations in the world, and you take it for granted until you see it from someone else's eyes. It's been a little over three weeks since my family returned to America. Since that time, my parents, along with my brothers Farooq and Hamid have visited Jameel and I several times before returning to Los Angeles. Farrah and Yazmin remained in the city.

Farrah has immersed herself in her clothing line, and Yasmin returned began her residency at the hospital. They both have been wonderful, especially Farrah since we both work on the clothing portion of the family business. I've been devoting a majority of my time to Jameel, and she has graciously picked up my slack in the corporate offices. I still work via remote, but like I said. My main goal right now was making sure that Jameel felt safe and secure at all times.

It's definitely a work in progress building up Jameel's level of confidence in himself, but things were slowly progressing. I truly believed that by opening up a whole new world and exposing him to an entire range of different cultures, paired with his bi-weekly therapy sessions have worked wonders so far in setting him on the right path towards healing from the physical and psychological abuse my grandfather had heaped on the poor boy for years. My blood still ran red hot anytime my thoughts turned towards the old bastard and the atrocious acts he'd committed towards not only on Jameel, but also to his sacred religion, his family, and his lack of conscience over the years.

Dr. Talgar, Jameel's therapist was a godsend. Yazmin had recommended him. He was one of the leading Psychologist on staff at New York-Presbyterian Hospital, where she was doing her residency training. After speaking extensively with the man, I'd felt he was more than capable in helping Jameel work through his unique circumstances. Not only was the man fully versed on the Islamic cultures and practices, and how those beliefs affects Jameel's way of thinking, most importantly, he wasn't homophobic.

The good doctor truly believed that love is love no matter who you loved. It wasn't sin, nor was being attracted to someone who is the same gender as you a arbitrary choice. That above anything else that is what Jameel needed to understand and come to terms with. He needed to see that he isn't an unholy, or an abomination. I know it's easier said than done, especially if you had years of enduring abuse from someone telling you those lies on a daily basis and using your body in ways no one should to prove a point.

After Jameel's last visit the doctor had suggested that it may be beneficial to start taking Jameel out into the world and amongst people. So far he'd been content to remain inside my home, swimming in the bathtub or watching multiple movies in the media room. Whenever we had to go to an appointment or leave the house, I always had our driver taking us where we had to go. Just last weekend Nasim had taken some time off from college and all three girls had tried to entice Jameel out for a shopping trip, but he had shyly declined and retreated to his safe haven, the giant tub in the bathroom.

At first, I thought that his love for bubble baths was the cause of his delight in spending hours taking long baths in my oversized tub, but I've since learned from attending one of Jameel's sessions at his request was that he felt dirty at the hands of my grandfather. My heart shattered all over again when the gorgeous man admitted that he hadn't been allowed to wash himself after being thoroughly and brutally used. Grandfather had his man servant do the honors and the sadistic son of a bitch had made the cleansing process as demeaning and as painful for Jameel as he could. The mere freedom of being able to wash himself whenever he pleased was like heaven for him.