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I laugh. “Fine, let me be really, really clear.” I reach for his hand, carrying it towards myself slowly, then place it palm-side down on my stomach. “It’s not a chicken and it’s not a cow, and I’m not sure if it’s a boy or a girl, but we’ll know soon enough.”
His eyes fly wide. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope.”
“You’re pregnant? With my baby?”
I laugh again. “Well, if it’s not your baby then that would be awkward. And impossible,” I hasten to add.
He makes a groaning noise. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just, I had no idea.”
“I know. I wanted to be sure it was safe before I said anything. You’ve been so busy with the new education rollout, I didn’t want to distract you.”
“Oh, Amy, this is the right kind of distraction. This is literally the best news I have ever been given.”
“Gosh, so you like the gift then?”
“I think – though it is a close call – I like this gift even more than the chicken. And I like you most of all.”
I stand onto the tips of my toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “That’s a relief, because you’re completely stuck with me.”
“Promise?”
“Forever and ever.”
It is Zahir in the end who brings about a truce. And not quickly; it takes time. I grow enormous with our baby, round and definitely-not-glowing, and then he is born, a perfect little bundle with Zahir’s eyes and my mother’s smile that makes the discomfort of pregnancy completely worth it. Motherhood changes me. I am aware of a river that runs through me, channelling life and existence, history and the present, the promise of the future, a river that connects me to my son, and which also connects me to my father, my father to my son.
And yet, I still ignore my father, unable to soften towards him when I think of what he might have done to my husband.
It is Zahir who changes my mind, who gradually softens me, so that eventually, nervously, I agree to meet with him. And despite what Zahir has always said about his involvement with my father, he came with me. Not because he wanted to – I could tell how hard it was for him – but because he knew I needed him, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me.
The meeting is a beginning. My father did great wrong, and yet he’s still my father, a man who’s also capable of great goodness and kindness, a man I have always loved. The relationship will never be simple and straightforward again, but the relationship persists and because he understands that a piece of me is missing for as long as my father and I are estranged, Zahir works to bring us together, gradually reintroducing my father to my life, always watchful and listening to me, making sure I’m ready, always supporting.
By the time our son turns one, I am pregnant again, and my father is the first person we tell. A river connects us, and the ancient grudges and enmity seem impossible to remember now, as love has permeated every aspect of palace life. Even love for my father, because Zahir made sure of it.
THE END
The Billionaire’s Cinderella Captive
XENAKIS I
All the characters in this book are fictitious and have no existence outside the author’s very-vivid, non-stop imagination. They have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names and are pure invention (mwah-ha-ha).
All rights reserved. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reprinted by any means without permission of the Author.
The illustration on the cover of this book features smokin’ hot model/s and, as gorgeous as they are, bears no relation to the characters described within.
First published 2022
(c) Clare Connelly
Contact Clare:
http://www.clareconnelly.com
Blog: http://clarewriteslove.wordpress.com/
Email: [email protected]
