“I mean,” Mira went on from the backseat, her voice half an octave higher as always in Rashid’s presence. “You return her so late every night it’s always after I go to sleep.”
Rashid looked at Mira in the mirror with that tranquility that Laylah knew indicated unending patience with her for being her best friend. It still amazed her that there wasn’t the least bit of male appreciation in his eyes for the fiery and statuesque beauty who turned heads wherever they went.
He inclined his head in gallant apology. “I am sorry if I’ve been the reason for disturbing your sleep.”
“That’s not what I meant!” Mira spluttered, as always out of her depth around Rashid.
Laylah could sympathize big-time. Rashid’s larger-than-life vibe could mess with anyone’s balance. Especially those with XX chromosomes. It had to be loving him that much, and his unlimited indulgence with her, that made her function somewhat normally around him.
Mira elaborated, “Hey, I’ve been having the time of my life with you guys these past weeks. I love the ride home every day from work in this wonder car, and in the company of my favorite couple in the world. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all that wish-fulfillment stuff you keep pulling—flying me in private jets, getting round-the-clock medical attention for Dad at home and taking me out with you to places I didn’t know existed, not to mention the magic wand you’ve touched our business with. I’m just wondering, since you’ve been condensing your working hours to the bare minimum to make more time for each other, why not stay in the same place to have even more time together?”
“According to Laylah,” Rashid said, “it’s because I’m terminally archaic and can’t evolve beyond my Azmaharian programming.”
Yeah. She’d told him that. And a few more elaborate frustrations. He would be with her only during “appropriate” hours. But he wouldn’t hear of her spending the nights at his place, or her reputation would evidently disintegrate to ashes. The only time she’d spent the night with him had been that first night.
But that paled in comparison to another matter.
Tonight was their one-month anniversary.
At least it had been. Now after midnight, the day had passed.
And Rashid hadn’t asked her to marry him again.
She’d remained on pins and needles all day, thinking he’d say something during their late lunch. He hadn’t. Then at dinner, he’d invited Mira along and had so far said nothing.
Because Mira was around? Why invite her if she’d cramp his style? What did it all mean?
Had he rethought his offer? Decided it had been rushed and rash? With her being so free with her favors, maybe he thought he’d been wrong to worry about her “honor” when she wasn’t worried about it herself. Maybe he thought he should just enjoy what they had.
She’d want that, too, as long as it was long-term. But what if his change of heart meant that whatever he thought they had wouldn’t last long? What if he started winding down gradually to an inevitable end? Maybe he’d made that decision early on, and that was why he’d been adamant about her not moving in or even staying the occasional night. Maybe he didn’t want to cloak their intimacies in any kind of permanence.
She tried to shake off her doubts, listen to the almost one-sided conversation between Mira and Rashid. She couldn’t.
He pulled up to their building and said good-night to Mira, who responded with the self-possession of a starstruck schoolgirl, before she exited the car, murmuring for Laylah to take her time.
She didn’t. After a kiss that she initiated and he ended too soon, Rashid said that he had to rush away.
She stood on the sidewalk watching him drive off, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the weather creeping into her bones. She hadn’t thought twice about what it meant any other night when he’d dropped her at her place and driven off. But tonight...
Could it be he didn’t realize what tonight was?
No. No way. Rashid forgot nothing. And since he’d said nothing, maybe he just had nothing to say.
It was a long time after he’d disappeared that she’d dejectedly turned and entered the building.
Unable to face Mira again, she waited outside their apartment, struggling with tears, until she heard silence inside.
Once in her room, she rushed into the shower, dissolved the hot tears she could no longer hold back in hotter water, as suspicions overtook her thoughts.
Why had he insisted on Mira’s presence tonight of all nights? Had he needed her as a buffer against any possibility of intimacy? Today had been the first day without any form of that. Had he considered today, instead of being the beginning of a new phase in their relationship, to be the beginning of the end? Had her prophecy come to pass? A month in her company had been more than enough, and she’d started to grate on him?
But last night he’d made love to her with as much hunger as ever. Was that not enough anymore, and being the chivalrous knight that he was, he was trying to find a painless way out of this mess? What would she do if this was true?
After a night in a hell of uncertainty, morning brought with it the searing light of realization. Why Rashid was pulling away.
It had to be because she’d told him she loved him.
At first, it had been in the throes of passion, then gradually afterward she’d said it at every opportunity. She hadn’t worried when he hadn’t said it back. She’d thought it had been too soon for him, but she had been certain it was coming.
What if, instead of being truthful with him about her emotions, as she’d thought she should be, she’d only pressured him? And his response to her fervor, when he believed he couldn’t reciprocate it, was to pull away?
Unable to hold back anymore, anxiety and urgency eating through her restraint, she snatched her phone up, dialed his number.
He picked up on the second ring. She recognized the background sounds. He was in his car.
“Laylah—”
She cut him off before he could say anything more. “I didn’t...didn’t mean anything when I said I loved you. Please, just forget I said it.”
Eight
A cacophony of sounds was all Rashid heard after Laylah told him to forget she’d told him she loved him.
It wasn’t until a policeman knocked on his window that Rashid realized the noise was a storm of honking.
He’d braked in the middle of the street.
He didn’t remember ending the call with her, or what exactly he said to the policeman. He only knew he found himself parked in front of the entrance of her building, staring up at her window, one thing pummeling through him.