“I think going back to St. Basil is what I want,” Mena said. “Regina and Omar are both there. They say ‘hi’ by the way and thanks for saving my life … again.”
Julian laughed, then kissed her on the forehead. “Did they really think I wouldn’t?”
Mena paused, emotions choking her throat as she worked to push past them.
“Julian, I don’t know how to thank you for everything you did in Africa. You risked your life over and over again to find me. To save me from getting killed.”
Julian was quiet. His soulful brown eyes expressed an infinite wave of love, filling her to the brim and threatening to take her under. She hoped he felt how much she loved him in return.
Mena continued, “You were my relentless hero, not letting anything stop you from rescuing me. I will never forget what you did and I will never take you for granted again. I promise you that I will do anything and everything to protect our love. I’m all in … with you.”
Chapter Sixty
The door to the elevator dinged, opening into the opulent lobby of the Queen Palm Hotel.
Mena glanced left and right, then stepped outside into the fray of tourists milling about the grand establishment. She’d been lucky that Julian had already left the hotel to run errands when she got the text message. Glancing down at her phone, she checked the location of the private cabana again. Number 15 near the waterfall pool and closest to the beach.
She didn’t have much time to get rid of him.
Julian would be back in a few hours and then they had dinner with her parents tonight at Caleb’s house. She was determined to not let this meeting ruin her day. Everything had changed for her after facing down death over and over again in the desert of northeastern Kenya. Mena knew without a doubt that she wanted nothing more than to be with Julian forever. A commitment she cherished. She never thought she’d get married again, but now that was all she wanted.
Julian had been giddy and secretive about his outing today. She had a feeling they were on the same page and by dinner tonight, they would be engaged. The last thing she needed was her past coming back to ruin this day for her.
Taking the winding path past the Olympic sized pool, through the jungle enclave and out toward the outer pool decks, Mena scanned the numbers on the cabanas until she saw 15. It was discreet, the opening partially hidden from the view of anyone walking by and the furthest from the hotel. At least he gave her that courtesy.
As she stepped toward the cabana, the fabric curtain opened and she went inside. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at the man she’d married four years ago. Dr. Michael Marsh. He hadn’t changed one bit, still the same handsome doctor she’d made the mistake of falling in love with.
“What took you so long?” Michael asked, walking toward her, his hazel eyes concerned as he stopped mere feet from her. The kind eyes that she’d fallen for so many years ago. “I’ve been worried sick since the bombing at the museum. When you didn’t show up to meet me, I knew something was wrong. I kept trying to find you, but the Kenyan police didn’t know anything. Then I heard you were on that private plane that crashed landed on one of the outer Palmchat Islands. I got here as fast as I could.”
“You shouldn’t have followed me to Kenya, and you shouldn’t have come here either,” Mena said, remembering the coral peonies that had arrived at the Irungu Center before Tubeec’s attack. The exact flowers from her bridal bouquet had arrived on what would have been their fifth anniversary, January 13th.
“Don’t say that,” Michael said, reaching for her. Mena slipped away from his touch, walking deeper into the cabana.
“What happened to your arm?” Michael asked, closing the space between them. “Let me take a look at it.”
“Don’t touch me. You’re a damn neurologist. That doesn’t qualify you to assess a gunshot wound,” Mena said, exasperated by the proximity of him.
“Gunshot wound? Who shot you? What the hell happened on that plane?” Michael asked. The genuine concern in his tone rattled Mena, shaking her resolve.
“I’m fine. I’ve been checked out by the best doctors in St. Killian. I don’t need a second opinion,” Mena said. “I don’t have all day to waste with you. Why have you been trying to get in touch with me? What do you want?”
“You.” Michael’s eyes twinkled as the words oozed from his mouth.
Her mouth fell open. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me. I want you. I want us back. Somewhere deep inside of you, I know you still love me. You didn’t want our marriage to end just like I didn’t. We were both blindsided. But now, everything has changed. We belong together and if you could accept the truth of what really happened, we could get back everything we had before. I’ve never stopped loving you,” Michael said.
“You love me so much that you didn’t tell me you had not one, not two, but three other wives across three states. Do you know how disgusting it feels to know that you tricked me and lied to me! You were a polygamist, juggling four wives at one time—”
“I was not married to all of those women!” Michael screamed back at her. “The day I met you, I walked away from all of them. I swear to you. When I stood before that minister on the beach in Miami and vowed to love you, I believed I was free of all the mistakes of my past.”
“But you weren’t! What about Emma and Alexis? When you married me, they both thought you were their husband,” Mena said.
“No, they didn’t. I hadn’t been around them much in years,” Michael said.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Yes. Both Emma and Alexis signed affidavits that they were aware of my marriage with Courtney and knew that our unions were not valid,” said Michael.
