His chest is moving rapidly but he otherwise appears calm. “I did not come here to argue with you.”
“Yeah, well, what did you come here for, Zahir?”
He pierces me with his obsidian eyes. “To tell you that three hours ago, your father boarded a flight bound for Qabid. He will be here by nightfall.”
14
Amy
IT’S LIKE THE WORLD has tipped completely off its axis. I can’t breathe properly, my eyes are stinging and I realise tears are running down my cheeks, landing on my silk-covered breasts; I’m shaking like a leaf.
“You’re not serious?”
He stands, reaching for a pair of boxers and dragging them on. “This was our deal, wasn’t it?”
He’s right, it was, but I don’t want to think in terms of a deal anymore. Our marriage started off as a means to an end but it feels like so much more than that. And yet it can’t be! A minute ago he was telling me any children of ours won’t be allowed to see my father and I don’t think I can cope with that. It will kill dad.
It’s all such a mess!
I feel torn between the only two men I’ve ever – loved. There, I said it. Finally. The word has been rolling through my subconscious for days now and I can’t ignore it any longer. I love my husband. I don’t know how or why, perhaps it’s some kind of fatalistic attraction, some ancient, primal connection dictated by the stars, or perhaps it’s just that I’ve never met anyone like him? He’s overwhelming and nothing in my experience could ever have prepared me for the experience of knowing him, let alone being married to him. I spin away, stalking to the window, unable to stop the quivering in my hands. I grip them in front of me, my pulse going haywire.
I’m torn between Zahir and my father, but I know where my loyalty lies. I’ve had a lifetime of loving my father, and he’s endured sixteen years of suffering and displacement at the hands of this man. My husband.
I press a fist to my mouth, aching with the awful reality of this.
I’ve only known Zahir for weeks. Maybe I don’t actually love him. How can I, after what he’s put dad through? Maybe this is just sexual infatuation? Maybe it’s something I can control?
“Yes.” My voice emerges as a barely-there whisper. “That was our deal.” I harden my heart, strengthening my resolve as I turn to face him. I can see the concern in his face and ignore it, tilting my chin defiantly. “I want to see him as soon as he lands.”
Zahir’s eyes narrow.
“No.”
I jerk my head away, fixing my gaze to the wall.
“So I do have to ask your permission for everything I want to do?”
“Your father is considered a security threat. He will be debriefed once he lands –,”
“Debriefed?” I squawk. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Relax.”
“How can I relax when you’re going to have your henchmen drag him off the plane and, and, and –,”
“And take him to a hotel where they will go through the conditions for his return, explain the security monitoring he’ll be subjected to before giving him an escort to his home?” He says softly.
“That’s awful. He’s my father! He deserves better than that.”
“No, Amy. He deserves much worse, but this is what I have asked for and so it will be done. Believe me when I tell you there are many within my government who would wish him to be thrown in prison.”
I know he’s not adding the rest of the sentence: or worse.
I shudder, squeezing my eyes closed. “How can you all be so wrong about him?”
“Once he’s settled, within a few days of landing, you’ll be taken to him.”
“Why do I feel like I’m a prisoner too?” I remark, crossing my arms over my chest.