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“I’m so sorry you went through that.”
He took her words and stored them in his heart. “Thank you.”
“It must have been very hard.”
“Yes.” His eyes were almost mocking when they met hers. “I don’t know what you wish me to say, habibi. I am not being deliberately evasive, only most people do not cope well with grief. Do you want me to lie, and tell you that I got over it? That it was not the worst thing that could have happened?”
“No,” she said simply.
“Fine. It was very difficult. I was always at my mother’s feet. And my mother was not like her predecessors.”
“In what way?”
“Royal women are traditionally very hands-off in the raising of their children. It was believed that there are far more suitable people to care for future princes and princesses than their mother. Nannies, tutors, governesses. We had all of them, but our mother spent a good portion of every day with us. When she wasn’t engaged in her royal duties, she was playing with us. Cooking with us. Reading to us. My father used to tease her, I remember, but he loved how she adored her children. He told her she was spoiling us, and on reflection, he was right. Had we never known the brightness of her love, we would never have suffered so badly with its removal.”
Olivia swallowed. The tears in her throat were painful. “But you wouldn’t be the man you are today, with this enormous heart and propensity for good.”
“But perhaps Ra’if would not be shackled in a hospital, recovering from years spent trying to blot out his inner-pain with whatever drug he could find.”
“Your mother could never have known she would leave you.”
“No,” he agreed. “I have come to accept that.”
“And her love for you was a blessing. I still believe, no matter how hard you have found it to live without her, that you were better served by the short years she was able to lavish you with affection and attention.”
“I have never reached that conclusion with any certainty,” he said honestly. “But I defer to your wisdom, Olivia Henderson.”
“My mother died almost five years ago.” She cleared her throat. “It will be five years this Christmas.”
He was very still beneath her. Despite their growing closeness, Olivia had steadfastly stayed silent on matters to do with her family. He waited impatiently for her to continue.
“She was an incredible woman. I don’t think I ever saw her sit still for longer than five minutes. She ran our vineyards, and when we were a little older, she built accommodation on site for tourists. She cooked like a dream, and she sang beautifully, which is strange, because my sisters and I are all tone deaf. She also loved to swim, and dive. The water was like a second home to her.” Olivia sighed. “There was nothing unusual about the day we lost her. She’d done the dive hundreds of times. She was after Crays for the weekend guests.”
“Crays?” He interrupted softly.
“A
type of shellfish.” She swallowed. “Anyway, she went out early, and when she wasn’t back at her usual time, we knew something was wrong. My sisters and I went down to the water. There was no sign of her.”
He waited silently.
“They found her body the next morning. Locals went in and pulled her out. She’d got caught between two rocks. They must have shifted while she was in there.” Olivia shivered. “Even an experienced diver like mum would have panicked. You go through your air real fast once you start to stress.”
“A terrible waste. I am saddened for you to have experienced this.”
“Thank you,” she repeated his earlier response back to him.
“So you were nineteen?”
“Yes.”
“And your father?”
“We don’t know anything about him.”
“How is this possible?”
Olivia kissed him gently, her body beginning to ache for more than conversation. “Because he was a horrible pig of a man who cheated on his wife with our mum. She didn’t know. She was young and in love. She never questioned him.”
