His expression tightens. “Your father was not involved in that.”
“He knew about it.”
“Not at the time.”
Zahir’s knowledge of the facts is incredible. I cannot believe he kept all this from me. I have spent our entire marriage falling in love with this man and he’s been holding so much information back from me, deciding what I should and shouldn’t know. I feel infantilised and mistrusted.
“So they killed him? This group my father was a member of?”
“Your father was the reason for the group – they wanted a Hassan ruler. As for my father, he was gradually poisoned, yes.”
“Oh, God. I can’t believe this.” I reach around for a chair, feeling like my knees are about to give way. Zahir moves quickly, coming to me and putting an arm around my waist.
“I did not want you to know this.”
“Well, I do.”
“I am furious that he told you.”
“And I’m furious that you didn’t,” I say angrily. “I’m your wife, damn it. What kind of marriage can we have if you keep this sort of thing from me? I married you to bring my father to Qabid – a man who was complicit in the death of your own father. How the hell could you keep this from me?”
A muscle throbs in his jaw. “My father would have understood. The necessity of peace in the eastern regions justified this.”
“So marrying me was worth it, then?” I shake my head. “I guess it’s too soon to tell. After all, maybe there will still be dissent.” I feel physically ill. “All this time I’ve been thinking that I’m in bed with the enemy and really it’s the other way around.”
“You are not my enemy,” he rebukes quickly.
“Aren’t I?”
I can’t see him properly. My eyes are misted, rage and sadness welling inside of me.
“And nor is your father. A long time ago, he was involved in something, but it is yet to be seen if that threat persists.”
“I don’t share your viewpoint,” I say. “I believe people should pay for their crimes and what he did is criminal. You exiled him not to save yourself but to punish him, yes?”
“It was a precaution. Not one I undertook out of concern for my own life, but given the lack of safe heirs, any threat to me had to be treated seriously. There was no line of succession.”
“There still isn’t,” I say, numb to the core.
“No, not yet, but soon.”
I shake my head, feeling rubbish. I pull away from him, bitterness creeping through me. “I’m not pregnant.” The words are wooden, despite the chip of pain in my heart. “I found out the other day. It’s why I went away. I couldn’t bear to tell you.”
A sharp exhalation of breath is his only response.
“I did not expect it to happen straight away,” he responds after a beat has passed.
It’s such a rational response and somehow that hurts even more. Again and again, I am confronted with evidence that we are on completely different wavelengths. I have been heartbroken but he’s not, because he doesn’t have a heart. Not where I’m concerned. The only thing he loves is this damned country. Grief wells in my chest.
“When we were first married, you said something along the lines of, we’ll always hate each other, but at least we have chemistry. Something like that. I thought you were just interpreting my feelings, my hate. I didn’t think, for one moment, you had a reason to hate me too.”
He doesn’t say anything. My heart twists.
I feel alone and I’m glad. I want to be alone. I feel let down and disappointed by the two men I love, the two men I’ve felt torn between I now feel a sense of disconnect from. It’s jarring and I ache all over.
“I would never have agreed to this if I’d known.” I turn to face him, needing him to understand that. He’s very stiff, very straight, staring at me like I’m speaking in a foreign language. “I had no right to ask you to bring dad home.”
“You did not ask.”