The Sheikh's Destiny (Desert Nights 3) - Page 48/50

There could be nothing worse than what they’d already shared.

Haidar let her know there was always worse. “He said he should have never come back, should have died in one of those wars or in the desert, that it would have saved everyone endless trouble. He also said he understands if you don’t want him near his child and he’ll abide by anything you decide.”

Desperation drove her to her feet. “Where is he?”

Haidar’s face twisted. “The place that means the most to him.”

She jumped on that. “I heard he bought his old family home.”

Jalal shook his head. “We thought that at first, but we realized that’s not where he’s been happiest.”

“Then where?” she cried out.

Haidar exhaled. “His Chicago loft.”

* * *

During the trip to Rashid’s loft, Laylah sank deeper in despair. What if Haidar and Jalal were wrong about his whereabouts? What if they’d been right, but he’d already left? She couldn’t dare believe their rationalization of why he’d go there. After all she and her family had put him through, how could he consider the place where they’d started their relationship to be the place where he’d been happiest?

She’d come alone. She couldn’t bear for anyone to come with her to the one place she’d been her happiest. Where she’d been Rashid’s. Before the world had intruded and almost destroyed everything.

A few steps into the vast loft had her battered nerves jangling. With that familiar pleasure that burned through them.

Rashid was here.

Then he materialized out of the darkness at the mezzanine.

After staring down at her for an eternity, he started down the stairs. “You didn’t have to come. I’ll grant you the divorce and anything else you ask for.”

“I—I’m not...I’m here to...” She swallowed the jagged lump of agony in her throat. Then she blurted out, “They told me everything.”

Harshness replaced the blankness on his face. “I will make them regret telling you.”

“You should have told me.”

“You should never have known any of this.”

“I had a right to know. It’s my mother who did this to you.”

His face hardened more. “You had enough spoiling your memories and soiling your psyche where she is concerned. There was nothing to be gained if you knew more, and so much to be lost.”

He’d been protecting her. When he should have used this to hit back at her, at least to defend himself.

“What she did to me were the misdemeanors of an overbearing mother who didn’t know when to let her daughter breathe on her own. What she did to you was an unforgiveable crime.”

The turbulence in his eyes ratcheted up. “And that’s why I didn’t want you to know. So you wouldn’t feel like this. I never wanted to add this to your disillusions.”

And she couldn’t bear being away from him for one more second. “Rashid...”

He jerked away from her. “Don’t. Don’t touch me, don’t even come near me. It’s not safe. I’m not safe.”

A sob hacked her chest. “Ya Ullah ya, Rashid...I’m so sorry...”

“Don’t...” he gritted. “Don’t pity me. Just don’t.”

She lunged at him, hugged him with all her strength even as he tried to push her away. “It’s not pity...ya Ullah...it’s rage and regret and pain so fierce it shreds my heart with every breath.”

Trying to undo her frantic hold, he groaned, “No, Laylah. Don’t feel bad about it. You had nothing to do with this.”

She clung harder. “It’s still my mother who did this to you.”

His arms fell to his side, surrendering to her embrace. “It’s in the past. Let it go. I have.”

She raised her face, seeing him blurred through the tears. “It’s very much in your present, in your future.”

“I swear to you, it’s not.”

“I know about your PTSD,” she sobbed.

His headshake was adamant. “Memories of that ordeal are no longer what’s fueling my instability.”

Tears slowed down. “What is then?”

His shrug was forced. It told her he was going to lie. Then he did. “I guess it’s self-perpetuating now.”

And she had to know. “Is that why you never slept with me?”

His nod was difficult. “It’s why I don’t have anything around me when I sleep. I used to wake up with things broken, with sheets shredded and mattresses gutted with the shards.”

He’d been killing his abusers over and over in his nightmares.

“I couldn’t risk lashing out at you as I wrestled with my demons, even when I thought I had my condition under control. Then it was no longer under control, and I even had episodes while awake. I can no longer be around you.”

“If memories aren’t why your PTSD flared, what is? Was it the stress of seeking the throne, the fear of losing it?”

He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he let her see all the way into him for the first time. “It was the stress of seeking you, of having you yet not having you, and the fear of losing even that much of you. And I managed to fulfill my fears. I literally became Majnun Laylah, making it imperative to inflict your loss on myself. But then I lost you irrevocably that day you discovered my original plans. I only kept telling myself I might get you back. It was when I faced that I never would that my PTSD crashed back a hundredfold. You were the one who started me on the path to true healing and losing you has plunged me into worse than my worst days.

“I thought everything inside me was long dead. But you resurrected it all, made me discover hopes, emotions and needs I never knew I had. I suddenly found myself dependent on another human being. It was glorious, yet scarier than any mortal danger I had ever been exposed to. Then—everything went to hell. Knowing I’d lost your respect, your love, that I had broken your faith and your heart, being unable to heal you, is something I can never heal from.”

And she charged him, deluging him in tears and kisses and pledges. “You never lost me or my love. You never will as long as I’m still alive, since that’s all I am—love, for you. I was stupid and hurt and trying to protect myself. But I made that deal with you so I would still be with you, in hope that you’d love me someday, if only a fraction as much I love you. I’ve loved you forever, will love you forever.” She pulled away to look into his eyes, her heart twisting. “But how can you love me, after what my family, after what I did to you? You should hate me.”