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Fearing that he would start singing her praises, and her face would end up cracking like broken china, she hastily cut him off, saying shortly, “Can you just get to the part where you find out you two make the perfect couple for a V.C. Andrews novel?”
“I would’ve gotten to that part,” he pointed out, “if not for your constant interruptions.”
“Just get on with it.”
“To be honest, there’s not much left.”
If that was true, Hyacinth thought, then why has all the light gone out of your eyes?
“We promised to keep in touch when summer ended. When I came back to Ramil, I was surprised to find Cecile at the palace. I asked her why she was there, and she said she had no idea either, only that her mother said there was someone she wanted Cecile to meet.” Rayyan’s lips twisted. “At that time, we both thought our parents might have been on to us, and that they approved of our relationship.”
“Were they?” Hyacinth couldn’t help asking. “On to you, I mean?”
“I stayed in the drawing room to wait with her, and when her mother came back, she was with my uncle—-”
“Prince Arthur?”
“Nem.” Yes. The sheikh’s tone became icy. “I remember how pleased he was at finding us together, and seeing it, I remember how that had made me even more hopeful as well. It was the most blissful five seconds of my life, followed by the five worst seconds—-”
I should have known a smart young man like you would have figured it out for yourself. While I can’t publicly acknowledge Cecile as my daughter, I hope I can count on you to take your cousin under your wing.
Hyacinth waited for the sheikh to say more, but when he gazed at her, she could only shake her head, incredulous at what the emptiness of his silence was suggesting. “That can’t be it,” she protested.
“Actually,” the sheikh drawled, “that can be it, and that was it.”
“But you loved each other—-”
“We were cousins.”
“Didn’t you even try to talk—-”
“We were cousins.”
“Will you stop that?”
Hyacinth couldn’t blame the sheikh for stiffening at her sudden scream. The truth was, she had shocked herself, too –
But it was his fault, really, she thought numbly. How in the fucking world could he expect her to remain calm when all the time he was speaking, she could see in his eyes how much he was hurting, how much he had been hurting all these years –
“I know you,” she said tightly. “I wish I didn’t, but I know the man you are, and I know...you wouldn’t...you wouldn’t have given up just like that.”
A ravaged expression shattered the cold mask on the sheikh’s handsome face at her words, yielding a split-second glimpse into his soul –
Oh God.
“You’re right.”
How he had loved her.
“I told her I’d give up everything for her.”
How he still loved her.
“And she gave me her answer by betrothing herself to another man—-” Rayyan’s voice died when he saw the tears rushing down Hyacinth’s face, and he stared at her in disbelief. “Are you actually crying for me?”
“You don’t need to say I’m stupid. I already know I fucking am.”
A hoarse laugh escaped him. “You really are one, aren’t you?”
“W-What?” She made an angry swipe at her eyes, but the damn tears still kept pouring down like an unstoppable storm.
“Majamira.” She was exactly that – a tiny insanity, because here she was, crying her heart out – for him. “I wish I had met you—-” He stopped speaking, but it was too late, the smile she gave him telling her she already knew the rest.
Because the thing was, he had met her first. Hyacinth was four years old when she had first come to the palace, and Rayyan had been sixteen – one full year before Cecile had even entered the picture.
Hyacinth dug her nails into her palms. He was right, she thought numbly. She was insane. She had to be, to wish that he wasn’t hurting right now – even if it meant having another woman love him back.
“You wasted your wish,” she muttered. “You know that, don’t you?”
There was a tense moment of silence, and then the sheikh said, “Nem.” Yes. Because he owed it to her. Because it was the least he could do. Because it was always fucking like that between them, Hyacinth loving him, and Rayyan hurting her –
“So that’s it then?” Are you sure? Her eyes were still shining. Can’t you really love me?
“Anti-climactic, isn’t it?” I wish I could. He slowly reached over to ruffle her hair. But I can’t.
She grabbed his hand before he could touch a single strand of her hair. He waited, half-expecting her to fling his hand back at him, but after another moment, she slowly pressed his hand over her heart.
From the very start, you only let me in your life because of her.
