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And when her release triggered his, she didn’t look away. Lacey let Hafiz know how much pleasure she received from watching him. She heard his hoarse cry before she closed her eyes, allowing exhaustion to claim her.
* * *
Lacey’s eyes bolted open. The first thing she heard was the drone of the high-speed ceiling fan. Then she noticed the sheets tucked neatly around her body.
Panic crumbled on top of her. She jackknifed into a sitting position and looked at Hafiz’s side of the bed. It was empty.
“No,” she whispered. “Noooo.” She pushed the sheets away as if he would suddenly appear.
She wildly looked around the room. She knew she’d asked for this night only, but she wished she had asked for more. Much more. Even if she knew it wasn’t possible, she would have thrown her pride to the wind and begged for more time.
Lacey stumbled out of bed and grabbed for her robe. Hafiz’s side of the bed was warm. There was a chance that he was still there.
“Hafiz?” she called out with a nervous tremble as she tied the sash of her robe. The silence taunted her. Biting down on her bottom lip, she opened the bedroom door. Hope leached from her bones as she stared into the empty drawing room.
Lacey slammed the door shut and ran to the window, her bare feet slapping against the floor. She ripped the curtains to the side and searched the quiet streets.
Her heart lodged in her throat as she saw the familiar figure walking across the street.
For a brief moment, Lacey thought she was mistaken. The man didn’t stride through the streets with regal arrogance. Hafiz walked slowly. Hesitantly. His head was bowed, his shoulder hunched.
She raised her fists, ready to beat at the glass and call for him to turn around.
Instinct stopped her. She knew it was hard for him to walk away. Probably just as difficult as it was to let him leave. She had to be strong. For him, if not for herself.
She pressed her forehead against the window, letting her fingers streak against the glass. “Hafiz...” she cried weakly.
Her eyes widened as she watched him slow to a halt. It was impossible for him to have heard her whimper. Hafiz turned slightly to the side and caught himself before glancing at her window.
Her heart pounded until she thought her ears would burst from the sound. She needed one more look. Just one more so she could carry it with her to ease her loneliness. She needed another look to remember that she was loved once.
But she also didn’t want him to turn around. She needed him to be strong. She needed to see his strength and know that he was going to be okay. That he was going to stand alone as he had before he met her.
Lacey pressed her lips together, her breath suspended as Hafiz paused. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she felt her future clinging to this moment.
Hafiz straightened his shoulders and resolutely turned away. Lacey felt shell-shocked. Her future took a free fall into the dark and desolate abyss.
It was a bittersweet sight for her to see Hafiz stride away. She stared at him, sobbing noisily until he turned the corner. Her gaze didn’t move from the empty spot just in case he changed his mind. Her vision blurred and her eyes stung as she kept watch for the possibility that he needed to steal one more glance.
But it wasn’t going to happen. He was strong enough for the both of them. The knowledge chipped away at her as she sank against the wall into an untidy heap.
It was over. They were no longer together.
Lacey felt as if she was going to splinter and die. And she had no idea how she was going to prevent falling apart without Hafiz holding her tight and giving a piece of his strength to her.
CHAPTER FIVE
HAFIZ REALIZED HE must have looked quite fierce by the way the office workers cowered when he strode in. Too bad, he thought as he cast a cold look at a young businessman who had the misfortune of being in his eyesight. Hafiz didn’t feel like altering his expression.
Usually he looked forward to coming into his downtown office in the afternoon once he had met all of his royal duties for the day. It felt good to get out of the palace that was as quiet as a mausoleum. Although it had been built by his ancestors, the historical site—or the people inside it—didn’t reflect who he was. The royal viziers were too concerned with protocol and tradition. They didn’t like any new idea. Or any idea he had.
