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“It was for the best.” Millie was pleased her voice sounded level and calm.
“And then?” Farrah prompted.
“When your father passed away,” Millie said gently, aware that the pain was still fresh for Farrah. “We saw one another again at the funeral. This time, it was Zafar who was grief-stricken, and me who could offer comfort.”
Farrah’s lips compressed in something like disapproval. “So you were here and he took advantage of the fact you have the biggest heart of anyone I know?”
“It wasn’t like that,” Millie said quietly. “It was just…I don’t know. Hard to explain. We were drawn together. It was as though no time had passed, in a way.”
Whatever Farrah might have thought about that, she kept quiet, allowing Millie to continue. But what came next was almost impossible to reveal, even to her dearest friend. “You might want to switch your drink for something stronger,” Millie said with a half-smile.
“What is it, Millie? What’s going on?”
“That night, after the funeral, was — it wasn’t planned but — I fell pregnant. With Zafar’s baby.”
Farrah’s face was pale, her lips parted on a gasp. “What?” Her gaze dropped to Millie’s midsection, concealed by a loose linen top. “I don’t believe it.” She reached out, pressing her hand to Millie’s stomach and gasping once more when she felt the roundedness there. “That was five months ago! When did you find out? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Millie grimaced. “I know. I hated lying to you, Farrah, but it’s all so complicated. It’s a mess. I needed to tell Zafar, obviously, and it felt wrong to tell you before him. I couldn’t have told you I was pregnant without telling you who the father was, and so I had to wait. Plus, you had the wedding to get through…And I kind of needed time to get to grips with it myself, as well.”
“OhmyGod. You’re going to have a baby. My niece or nephew!” Farrah smiled, reaching out once more and patting Millie’s tummy. “I can’t believe this.”
“You’re not mad?”
“Oh, I’m mad,” Farrah responded quickly. “But I’m also over the moon.” She pulled her hand back. “How did Zafar take the news?” Anguish showed in Farrah’s face, because she knew as well as Millie that Zafar never had any intention of having a family of his own. He’s always told Aziz that the duty of providing an heir would rest on his shoulders.
Millie sucked in a deep breath, bracing herself for what came next. “Well, he was surprised,” she murmured.
“I’ll bet. Babies are definitely not on his agenda.”
“No, I know,” Millie murmured. “And I made sure he knew that I didn’t want anything from him. I don’t expect anything.”
Farrah’s eyes narrowed. “He’d never accept that.”
“You’re right,” Millie nodded softly.
“So what?” But Farrah knew. Her eyes swept shut and she shook her head slowly from side to side. “You’re going to marry him, aren’t you?”
* * *
“What’s wrong?”
Millie startled, the intrusion unexpected and unwelcome. She brushed a tear from her cheek and stood, glaring at Zafar. “Don’t you believe in knocking anymore?” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I did knock. Twice. When you didn’t answer I grew worried.”
“Oh.” She looked away from him then, hating that he’d seen her like this.
“You’re crying.”
“Gee, am I?” She muttered, wiping away more tears.
He crossed the room in several long strides, until he stood in front of her, his powerful frame dwarfing her. He stood perfectly still, arms crossed, like a statue. Only his eyes moved, roaming her face for answers. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head, wanting him to leave.
“You’re upset.”
Do you have any idea what you’re doing, Mills? He’ll never love you. He’ll never care about you. He’s just not wired that way. Zafar was born and raised to rule Abu Qara. He puts that above everyone and everything else. This is a disaster waiting to happen. You’ll be miserable here.
