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She scrunched her features sharply. "Did I say that?" sheasked abruptly.
He bit his tongue and paused before saying anything else. He knew what the solution was. Did Grace know? Or was she trying to avoid the obvious truth in all of this? What they should both agree to do.
"Look, this is complicated," Grace said. "You know that as well as I do."
Qazim shook his head firmly. "It's not complicated, at all." He leaned forward and gazed at Grace. "It's exactly as fate designed."
"Fate?" she said giving him an incredulous look.
Qazim nodded. "Of course," he replied. "Can't you see that? You and I belong together, Grace. We always have," he said.
He saw her body stiffen at his words. "We don't belong together, Qazim." She glared at him. "Don't you remember? I walked out on you."
Qazim tilted his head. "And I know why you did that."
She sighed irritably. "You were suffocating me," she exclaimed.
For a moment he was taken aback by the strength of that accusation.
"Suffocated?" he asked disbelievingly.
Grace leaned back against the seat and stretched out her legs, crossing her ankles. It was as if she'd backed herself into a corner and she had nowhere to go. As if she wanted to fend him off, prevent him from declaring the only sensible course of action open to them both, now that there was a baby to consider.
For a moment, he thought she looked amazing, sitting there like that, her arms folded, her lips pouting. Defiant, as usual, Qazim realized. He wouldn't have expected anything else from Grace.
"You can't tell me there was anything destined in any of this," she said peering at him.
"I do," he replied emphatically.
Grace snorted and shook her head. He saw her jaw tighten as she turned her head to look out of the window.
Qazim moved closer. "Grace, habibti..." he started to say.
"Don't call me that!" she snapped turning back to face him.
He froze and gazed at her, seeing the color of fury on her cheeks.
"I'm not your beloved, Qazim," she declared. "I never was, and you know it. I was just another one of you conquests."
Qazim shook his head gravely. "That is where you are completely wrong, Grace." He shifted forward and rested a hand against the back of the seat. He was closer to her now, and he saw her gaze flicker hesitantly toward his hand.
"You are my beloved," he continued undeterred. "And you always will be. When I said those words to you, I meant them."
Qazim moved his hand closer to her. He caressed her loose locks of blonde hair which settled against the leather of the chair. Her hair felt soft against his skin. He wanted to lift it to his face, inhale the sweet scent of it, stir beautiful memories.
Grace didn't move an inch. Qazim gazed into her eyes. "You must believe me, Grace. My life has been empty since you left."
Grace arched a brow. "Why don't I believe that? You seemed happy enough at the meetings. In fact, you didn't come anywhere near me the whole time."
Qazim shook his head. "I wanted to respect your wishes." Grace scoffed, but he continued. "You had made your choice, and I felt honor-bound to accept it."
"Why is it always about honor, except when it comes to you getting want you want?"
He narrowed his eyes at Grace. "Are you accusing me a of being a dishonorable man?"
Grace hesitated before replying and then sighed heavily. "Of course not," she blurted out. "It's just that sometimes you talk like your brother. I sometime wonder if you aren't quite as modern as you like to think you are."
Qazim stiffened. "I am nothing like my brother," he declared. "Riaz chose his life in the desert. And now he is happy with a wife. It appears to suit him well, although it isn't a life that I would favor."
