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Refusing to take the easy route, she called her father first. That conversation went much as expected, but when he blamed her mother for insisting Angele be raised in the United States, she’d had enough.
“Had you managed to keep it in your pants, I would have grown up in Jawhar. Don’t you dare blame Mom for this.”
His outraged gasp at her crassness had no problem translating across the cellular connection.
“In point of fact, it was your ongoing infidelity that convinced me marriage to Zahir would never work,” Angele added. “I will not put myself in the position of living as Mom did.”
“She never wanted for anything.”
“If you really believe that, then you’ve learned nothing despite your change in behavior.”
“You do not speak to me with such disrespect, Angele.”
“The truth is not disrespect.” He couldn’t even accuse her of a snarky tone, because her voice was as devoid of emotion as her heart right now.
She preferred the dead feeling to the pain that was sure to come as her final separation from Zahir sank in completely.
“Your mother and my relationship is not your business.”
“I agree, but that does not change the fact that your example is one I absolutely refuse to follow.”
“Zahir is not a hot-blooded man.” The words like myself were implied but not said.
Angele wasn’t about to tell her father just how wrong he was. After the previous night, though, Angele knew the truth. And the certainty that Zahir had spent similar nights with Elsa Bosch managed to pierce her numbness with a hurt that Angele chose to ignore.
So much for a decimated heart having no capacity for further pain.
“You cannot do this, Angele.”
“It’s done.”
“We will discuss this further later.” The royals of Zohra and Jawhar had nothing on her father for arrogance. “Right now, I am to meet Malik and Faruq. I am sure you and I both can guess the planned topic of our conversation.”
“You are not listening, though why that should surprise me, I have no idea.”
“Angele!” The shocked way he said her name spoke volumes.
“Please, Father. I love you, but I don’t want to live my mother’s life. I simply won’t. I delivered letters to both kings with my stated intentions and apologies before leaving the palace.”
“Leaving the…where are you?” For the first time, her father’s voice sounded worried rather than angry.
The car pulled up outside the airport. She got out without answering her father, or waiting for the driver to open her door.
Once her luggage was on the curb, she said, “I’m on my way home.”
“Your home is here.”
“It never has been and it never will be.” She sighed, ignoring the twinge in her heart the words caused her. “Please listen to me, Father. I included a copy of the press release I sent out to the major news agencies with the letters I delivered to the kings. Your meeting would be best spent deciding how to deal with the PR ramifications of my decision than trying to determine how to change my mind.”
“Of course we will change your mind.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Damn it, I changed my whole lifestyle to ensure this wedding would one day take place. You will not derail that in a fit of feminine pique.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Surely Zahir told you about the little talk we had several years ago. He’s always been your hero.” Her father’s tone implied he’d neither enjoyed the little talk nor the fact he’d lost his place as Angele’s hero.
