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“Yes.”
“And still you hurt her for years, as she apparently hurt you as well.” Angele understood now it had gone both ways, but that certainly did not give her more hope for her own future. “If you two, loving each other, could do so much emotional damage, how much worse in a marriage that only one person feels love?”
“Zahir is not a man to love.” Her father’s instant answer without even pausing for thought to consider which of them felt that love was another brick in the wall Angele was trying so hard to build around her heart.
“My flight is leaving in a few minutes.”
“You are not leaving Zohra.”
She heard the threat in her father’s voice, but she ignored it. She’d taken precautions to make sure she could and would leave today. She’d finagled a spot on a private plane headed to the States. So, even if the commercial flights were grounded while the royal guard searched for her, she would be going. Even so, she had timed her call to her father so that it would take a miracle for her flight to be discovered and stopped in time.
“Please, accept it. The press release has already gone out.”
“We can say it is a hoax.”
“I’ll do a live interview.”
“You will not.”
She would do whatever it took to stand by her decision and let her silence tell him so.
Her father cursed fluently in Arabic. “Malik will disown our friendship.”
“He’s not that vindictive.”
“It is a matter of pride.”
“Yours. If it was all that important to either of the kings, one, or both of them, would have pressed for an official date before now. The agreement has been in place for a decade.”
“You have only been an adult for five of those years.”
“Half a decade.”
“They are pressing for it now,” he said, rather than argue the point.
Very typical for her father. Focus on the now, on the positive and ignore everything else.
She wasn’t so sanguine and never had been. “It’s too late.”
Her father cursed again and she winced. She had known this conversation would be hard, but had foolishly thought herself immune to her father’s disapproval.
“I love you, Father. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me one day.”
She hung up before he could say anything more.
She went through VIP customs, barely registering the words spoken to her or those she used in reply. Her heart ached. Whoever said emotions are felt in the head had never been in love. Her chest felt tight, like any second her heart was just going to give up and stop beating.
No matter what she’d said in her letters or on the phone to her father, walking away from Zahir was the hardest, most painful thing she’d ever done.
Last night had been the most amazing experience of her life, but then she’d looked at those pictures again and she knew. No matter how good a lover Zahir might be, he didn’t love her. Only right now, she almost thought living with him without his love would be better than living without him at all.
She forced her feet to move forward, to climb the stairs to the private jet. The owner said something to her. She replied, but couldn’t remember what either said as she buckled herself into her seat. She did remember pleading a headache, glad when that seemed to buy her the silence and privacy she needed.
She didn’t know the retired statesman or his wife very well and they appeared content to keep themselves to themselves. As far as they knew, they were doing a favor for the Royal House of Zohra, but they clearly didn’t expect conversation.
For which she was grateful, rather than offended. She wasn’t up to it. It was taking all her strength to stay in her seat and not return to the palace and a passel of angry royals.
The captain had just announced he would be taxiing into position for takeoff shortly when Angele’s mother’s number showed on the screen of her phone. She turned it off as the engines warmed up.
