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Not that there was a reason to hurry back.
Not from the evidence of the past two weeks anyway.
It had been then, six weeks after that magical time in Aram’s new apartment and the breakfast in Barbados, that Aram had suddenly become insanely busy. He’d neglected his work so much that the accumulation had become critical.
She understood. Of course, she did. She knew exactly how many people depended on him, what kind of money rode on his presence and expertise. She’d been neglecting her work, too, but Johara had picked up the slack, and she was not so indispensable that her absence would cause the same widespread ripples his had. She appreciated this fully. Mentally. But otherwise…
The fact was, he’d spoiled her. She’d gotten reliant on seeing him each and every day, on being able to pick up the phone, day or night, and he’d be eager and willing to grant her every wish, to be there with her at no notice. When that had suddenly come to an abrupt end, she’d gone into withdrawal.
God. She’d turned into one of those clingy, needy females. At least in her own mind and psyche. Outwardly, she was her devil-may-care self. At least, she hoped she was.
But she was something else, too. Moronic. The man had a life outside her, even if for three months straight it had seemed as if he didn’t. She’d known real life would reassert itself at one point. So she should stop whining now.
And now that she thought of it without self-pity, going to Zohayd was a good thing. She’d been twiddling her thumbs until she and Johara started the next project. And by the time she was back, he would have sorted himself enough to be able to see her again—at least more than he had the past two weeks.
She speed-dialed his number. The voice she now lived to hear poured into her brain after the second ring.
“Kanza—a moment please…” His voice was muffled as he talked to someone.
Feeling guilty for interrupting him when he’d told her he wouldn’t have a free moment before seven, she rushed on. “I just wanted to tell you I’m going home in a couple of hours.”
More muffled words, then he came back to her. “That’s fantastic. About time.”
That she hadn’t expected. “It—it is?”
“Sure, it is. Listen, Kanza, I’m sorry, but I have to finish this before the Saudi Stock Exchange opens. ’Bye now.”
Then he hung up.
She stared at the phone.
Last night, he’d said he’d see her later tonight. But she’d just told him she wouldn’t be able to see him because she was traveling and he’d sounded…glad?
Had she unwittingly let her disappointment show when he’d been unable to see her for the past two weeks, and he now thought it was a good idea if she did something other than wait for him until his preoccupation lightened and he could see her again?
But he hadn’t even asked why she was going or how long she’d stay. Sure, he’d been in a hurry, but he could have said something other than fantastic or about time. He could have said he’d call later to get details.
So was it possible he was just glad to get her off his back? Could it be that what she’d thought were unfounded feelings of impending loss had just been premonition? Was the magical interlude with him really over?
She’d known from the start he’d just needed someone to help him through the worst slump in his life. Now that he was over it, was he over his need for her?
That made sense. Terrible sense. And it was only expected. She’d dreaded that day, but she’d known it would come. She’d just kept hoping it would not come so soon. She wasn’t ready to give him up yet.
But when would she ever be? How could she ever be…when she loved him?
Suddenly a sob tore out of her. Then another, and another until she was bent over, tears raining on the ground, unable to contain the torrent of anguish anymore.
She loved him.
She would forever love him.
And she would have remained his friend forever, asking nothing more but to have the pleasure and privilege of his nearness, of his appreciation, of his completion. Of his need.
But it seemed he no longer needed her.
Now he’d recede, but never really end it as he would have with a lover. She would see him again and again whenever life threw them together. And each time, he’d expect her to be his buddy, would chat and tease and reminisce and not realize that she missed him like an amputee would a limb.
Maybe going to Zohayd now was a blessing in disguise.
