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“I also thank you. From the bottom of my heart. My time with you has been something I will always look back on with wonder.” He kissed the top of her head, forcing himself not to breathe in her sweet fragrance. “You must promise me that you will look after yourself.”
“You too,” she snapped, but the fight had left her. How could she argue with such obvious determination?
“You are not going to kiss me goodbye?”
She didn’t turn around. “No.” A sob was wrenching through her chest. “Just go, Zamir. Please.”
* * *
For days, Olivia was incapable of anything except breathing.
Of course, she couldn’t stay in Zamir’s hotel room. Not when every single inch of it reminded her of him. Of them. Of perfection.
She’d returned to her own apartment, and bit by bit, she’d made it through each day. But she’d barely eaten. And she hadn’t drunk. She’d simply sat, and stared. And tried to make sense of how she could have been so wrong.
She had loved him. She had loved him as a fish needs water and the sky needs stars. She had loved him with the intensity of having been designed to do so.
And he had walked away from everything she’d offered. As though she meant nothing to him.
Only she knew that he had cared for her! He’d never said it, but how could Olivia not know? He loved her. He loved her as she loved him. But he cared more for his country and crown than he did her. Could she understand that? Could she forgive him such devotion?
On the fourth morning, she managed to eat some toast and drink a coffee. She wasn’t sure she’d ever touch tea again.
On the fifth day, she actually dressed in something other than a tracksuit.
And six days later, she listened to her voice mails and read her emails. And hope died anew as she saw that there was nothing, absolutely nothing, from Zamir. Not so much as a ‘Hey, I’m here safe.’ He had gone, and it was as though it had all been a crazy dream.
Ten days later, Olivia could still barely function. She was in an unbreakable fog. Anger occasionally came to her, and it brought strength. She was right to be angry with him! He’d made her love him, and then he’d left. With his actions, if not his words, he’d promised her the world; and then he’d left. Yes, she was angry all right.
And what about Ra’if! Another piece of discarded junk in Zamir’s spectacular rise to the throne. It was an ungenerous thought, but she was warming to the role of the scorned woman.
But the anger was transient. It was always replaced by despondency.
Almost three weeks after he’d disappeared, Olivia forced herself to leave her home. She convinced herself that if she could dress like herself, and party like herself, then she would be a step closer to returning to herself.
And so she pulled on a pair of skin-tight leather pants and a silk top that tied around the neck, and she met up with some of the girls who worked for the agency. It was rare for them to have a night off together, and Olivia had told herself she’d regret not making the most of it.
So she’d gone out, and she’d danced, and she’d drunk champagne, and she’d flirted with the hottest guys she could find. And then she’d come home, miserable and alone, but worse, because the next day, she was also hung over.
But somewhere, in the fog of post-alcohol-pain, her mind wandered again to Ra’if, and she felt a rush of guilt.
Why hadn’t she thought of him more? Why hadn’t she thought of him sooner? For they had both been left by Zamir, only he was couped up in hospital.
It all happened very quickly. She organised one of the agency’s vehicles and pointed it in the direction of the clinic. She knew the way well; she’d only been a passenger, but she’d been an attentive one.
She turned the car radio right up to avoid hearing her own thoughts, for they were becoming increasingly clouded by doubt as she got closer to the facility.
She slid her car into the space reserved for visitors and stared up at the building.
Was she being stupid? Was she crossing some kind of line?
She pushed the door open before she could lose her nerve completely, and walked up the staircase.
A receptionist with a badge that proclaimed her name to be Delores sat behind the counter. “Hello. How can I help you today?”
Olivia cleared her throat. “I have been sent by his royal highness Zamir Fayez,” she lied convincingly.
“Ah!” Delores’s smile was so rich with relief that Olivia felt guilty for deceiving her.
