by Dona Sarkar
“I don’t know what to do.”
“This is one of those times I’m going to tell you what to do, and you’re going to listen,” Lana said firmly, putting her arms around me. “Go to him and give him a chance to explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain.”
“Everyone deserves that chance, Mars. What are you gaining by not giving him that chance? Do you want to live with regret forever?”
I was silent.
“He’s changed you. Anyone can see that. You need to let him know how much before he disappears and you never see him again.”
“I don’t know what to say to him.”
“You need to tell him what he means to you. Trust me on this one, Mars. You don’t want him to go away without him knowing that. That is one regret you will carry forever if you let him go like this.”
CHAPTER 23
The Proposal
I watched the sun rise the next morning, remembering the night I had spent with Zayed. I had been so afraid to ask him the questions I had that night. Afraid of ruining what we had, afraid to know the truth. I was no longer afraid. I knew what I had to do and that there really was only one possible outcome. There had only ever been one possible outcome, no matter how much I had fought it.
I got dressed and reached the U before any college football traffic could clog the bridge. I tailgated my way into Zayed’s apartment building behind one of his neighbors and knocked on his door. The apartment door flew open as I stood by, stunned.
It was empty. Everything was gone. The furniture, the books, Coconut, Zayed. Only spotless hardwood floors remained. It was all gone. I realized with a sense of dismay that he had meant what he’d said. He really was leaving Seattle.
This was still not going to deter me; I was going to talk to Zayed today. Not bothering to move my car, I ran the few blocks south to the College Prep Institute and found my administrator friend at the front desk.
“Hey, Mars!” She was just as perky at this hour as she was at the end of the day.
“Do you have Zayed Anwar’s contact information?” I knew I was probably being rude, but I needed to find him, and he needed to hear what I had to say.
She gave me a strange look. “Why?”
“I need to . . . tell him something. It’s about my score.” That was a half truth. I did want to tell him about my score and my admission into Michigan.
“Well, I can give you his email information.” She looked on her computer screen. “But I don’t have his phone number.”
“You don’t have his new address? He moved.”
She shook her head.
I turned to go. I would get Bree to find him. I couldn’t believe he had really just disappeared and had left no information as to where he was going. “Thanks. I’ll find him.”
“Mars, he’s upstairs if you want to talk to him.”
I was halfway up the staircase before she could finish.
For once I knew what I was doing. I knew exactly what needed to be done and how I was going to do it. The previous afternoon, the conversation with Lana, it had been pure clarity. I realized that I could control certain things, but the rest had to happen as it would.
I saw Zayed across the room, setting a cat carrier down on his desk. Just moments later, he looked up and spotted me. He stood staring with a look of disbelief. I heard a tiny “mew” from the carrier. Coconut!
“I need to talk to you.”
He walked toward me and then past me. “Let’s go to the roof.”
This time he lead me up the flight of stairs and pushed open the creaky old door.
“Is this real—” he started to say.
“Sit down,” I practically yelled, gesturing toward the edge of the roof, the exact spot we’d become so familiar with during the blackout. “Where is all your stuff? Why is your apartment empty? What the hell is going on?”
Zayed looked confused. “Mars, there’s so much I have to say to you.”
“Are you leaving town?”
He took a deep breath. “Yes, I am. This is my last week before I leave for San Francisco.”
“You’re running away? That’s your solution to your problems? Just pretending it never happened? Do the lies never end for you?” I sounded harsher than I’d meant to, but it hurt me deeply that after everything he and I had shared, he would just leave town without telling me where or when.
“I’m sorry for not telling you the truth. By the time I understood your story and the loss of your father, I’d . . . I’d fallen in love with you. I was afraid that you wouldn’t speak to me if you knew,” he rushed on. “My case officer also told me I shouldn’t involve you. That it was dangerous.”
“You were right to think that. If you had told me, it would have been over on day one. I never would have fallen for you.”
Zayed’s expression was sorrowful. “Is that what you wish?”
“Sometimes.” I answered honestly.
“I was hoping . . . I don’t know. That if enough time passed, you could forgive me. That was stupid.” Zayed sighed, rested his chin in his two hands. “I was cherishing each day because I knew that the moment you discovered who I was, it would be over. I wanted to tell you, more than anything, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t lose you.”
“But you did. Lose me, I mean.”
“Did I?” His eyes darkened, closed, then opened again, this time averted from my gaze.
“Absolutely you did.” I was firm in the response. He had betrayed me and deceived me, and though I had told him everything he’d asked, he had done nothing but lie to me in return.
“Oh.”
I could see that I had dashed whatever hopes had propelled him to the roof that quickly.
“I was ready to cut you out of my life. I was well on my way. But then I got this.” I pulled out the acceptance into the University of Michigan and set it down next to him.
Zayed broke into a smile as he read the first few lines. “I knew you would get in. I knew it. What was the score? Are you going?”
“We’re talking about you right now,” I reminded him. “I realized so many things when I got that letter. You knew I would never speak to you again, but you still didn’t give up on your belief in me.”
“And I never will.”
“I need you to do something else now, Zayed.”
“Just tell me.”
“Now you need to believe in yourself.”
He seemed to hang his head.
“You have to. How can I, or anyone else, if you don’t? You’re running away to another city to catch another terrorist. What will you do there? Lie to some other girl?”
He looked shocked. “There will never be anyone else.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that. In my nineteen years, there’s never been anyone else. And there won’t from here on out.”
“Zayed, you need to have a life of your own. Put down roots and start being honest with people around you.”
“I have so much to make up for.”
“You need to make peace with what’s happened. You need to understand that your brother made mistakes and hurt many families, some Iraqi and some American, but there was nothing you could have done. He wouldn’t have listened to you.”
“I should have turned him in earlier. I should have been able to stop it. I could have saved those people.”
“You can’t blame yourself for his actions.”
“But I do,” he said.
“I know.”
I sighed.
“My father, he . . . he’s taken lives in the name of his country.”
Zayed gazed at me, those stormy gray eyes full of sadness.
“He did those things because he wanted to protect his country and his family.”
“He was a good man.”
I nodded, agreeing. “You thought you were doing the same. You are a good man too.”
I suspected those were tears in Zayed’s eyes. “I went about it the wrong way. I was
stupid and—”
“I forgive you. I realized I was blaming you for things that I believed you represented. All I wanted was to feel safe, and I blamed you for taking that away from me.”
“And now?”
I bit my lip, ready to take the next step.
“I want more than just to feel safe. I want to help you.” I hurried on as I saw hope and light on his face. “But things can’t be like they were.”
“Anything.”
“You have to trust me. You have to tell me what you’re going through.”
“I will. I promise I will.”
“You’ll do better than that. You’ll continue to write in your journals.”
“Did you read them?”
“Every one.”
“I want you to continue to read them. I want you to know everything.”
I lowered my eyes. Suddenly, I felt awkward, uncomfortable. Now what? We couldn’t go back to where we had been. That was impossible.
He held out his hand for mine. “Please?”
As on that first day, saying that our gazes met was a complete understatement. There was promise of a future, as long as I was able to leave the past where it belonged.
There was only one way for me to find out. I reached out and took his hand.
A sea of visions blurred my eyes: my father and me fighting the day before his deployment, the day the letter arrived in the mail, Zayed telling me there were only ashes left.
I knew Dad was gone, but at that moment, I felt him with me. Peaceful and hopeful, urging me to move forward, to take a chance on someone who loved me and was willing to give me what I wanted.
I twisted my hand, firmly encapsulated inside Zayed’s. The hand that belonged to my nightmare. The hand that belonged to someone who came from a world that had taken my protector from me. The hand of someone I couldn’t be without.
“I have a proposal for you.” I watched our fingers, entwined together. They looked right. Complete. “I want you and Coconut to come to Michigan with me.”
“You’re going for certain?”
“I accepted this morning. And I got an application for you, too.”
I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed seeing Zayed’s sly grin.
“They have a fine graduate program in modern Middle Eastern and North African studies. There is a very large Muslim youth population there. People to whom you can teach those valuable lessons you’ve learned.”
“I knew you were capable of great things, Mars. I knew it from the night of the blackout. Thank you for giving me this chance.”
“You’re also spending Christmas with us this year. As part of our family, not as a guest.”
Zayed smiled. “Am I dreaming?”
“You’ll wish you were once you see the demands I have of you.”
“Why are you giving me this chance?”
“You said before you believed we were meant to be together, that you are here only to serve me. I need you to prove that to me over and over again.”
“I will never stop proving it to you. I will prove it to you every day for the rest of your life.” He hadn’t stopped grinning. “Don’t you see? My brother and your father have conspired to bring you back to me. I will never let you go again.”
“No, you won’t. That’s part of accepting the proposal. You will never lie to me again. Ever.”
“I accept your proposal on all conditions. I swear to never leave your side again. I am dedicated to you for the rest of this life and the next.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I said sternly.
“Watch me keep it.” Zayed’s voice was suddenly much lower. Husky. So sexy. “I will do anything for you, Mars.”
* * *
Zayed and I had both risen from the scattered ashes of war, scarred from painful pasts but still here. Some mystical force had made sure our lives from across continents and worlds had met and become entwined.
Now it was up to us to make sure they stayed that way.
Done talking, Zayed pulled me into him and brought his lips—finally—down on mine.
It was well worth waiting for.
Don’t miss Dona Sarkar’s
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CHAPTER 1
Quinn
Why did he have to ruin everything by proposing marriage? Quinn Montgomery shook her head, wishing the previous night had been some sort of bad dream. The velvet box, exactly the size of an engagement ring, weighed heavily in the hidden pocket of her sixties-style shift dress. Everything had been going incredibly well. Why not let a good thing be?
Quinn should have known something was up when Shalin had insisted on a weeknight dinner at one of the nicest restaurants in the college town in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Chop House was definitely a “special occasion” place, mainly for long-time faculty and students’ parents. Right after the server had cleared away their dinner plates, Shalin had taken both her hands in his.
The first time, I was forced to marry against my will. Eventually I grew to love her, and when she died, I thought my life was over. Then I met you. Shalin had turned his focus from the candlelight to Quinn’s face.
Quinn, will you do me the honor of spending the rest of your life with me?
“Hey, you listening?” A voice with an edge of impatience snapped Quinn out of her memory.
“Wha—?” Quinn Montgomery spun her chair around. Kashmira. The last person she wanted to see right now. Quinn forced herself to smile for her mentee’s benefit. “Kash. Sorry. I, ah . . .”
Quinn stuttered as she noticed the knowing look on Kashmira’s face. You’re keeping something from me, it practically blared. However, this was definitely not the time to tell Kashmira about the very sudden and unexpected marriage proposal. She definitely would not handle it well.
Kashmira had a tendency to lock herself into a shell of gloom and immediately make everything about her own unhappiness. Quinn couldn’t deal with that now and suddenly make everything about Kashmira. Not on top of everything else. Like Shalin’s whisper lingering in her ear.
“You’ve been acting weird since this morning.” Kashmira tucked a silky strand of raven hair behind her ear and raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”
I’m in love with a completely amazing man and now he wants to take our relationship public. Goddamn.
“I’m late,” Quinn said instead as she glanced around the minuscule Teaching Assistant’s office she and another graduate student shared. She grabbed two textbooks off her overflowing desk and stuffed them into her bag. “Your dad’ll be pissed if I miss his lecture today. He’s expecting the students to come trickling in here with questions during office hours. The joys of ghazal poetry.”
Kashmira’s poker face gave no indication of whether she believed Quinn’s lie.
Quinn shouldered her red top-handle crocodile tote, one of her favorite vintage scouring finds, as she closed the door of the office behind her.
“I’ll walk with you. I’m here to listen.” Though Kashmira fell into step alongside Quinn without another word, her tone begged Quinn to confide what was really on her mind.
Quinn chose diversion over confession. “You went home this weekend, right? How was that?”
“Tiara-centered, as usual,” Kashmira said in an exasperated tone. “Her boyfriend, her friends, and the White Party. And how my life is so pathetic and boring.”
“The White Party?” Quinn barely heard Kashmira’s words. This speech was nothing new. When complaining about her fun-loving younger sister, Kashmira could find faults forever, though everyone knew Kashmira was Tiara’s biggest fan and supporter and would happily give up her sanity for her sister.
“Tiara’s getting her own apartment next year. Just so her boyfriend can come over whenever he wants. And my dad actually agreed. I mean . . .”
To
o sluggish to climb even the two flights of stairs on the muggy Monday, Quinn pressed the UP button on the elevator as Kashmira continued to revisit every detail of her last trip home to see her father.
Late spring in Michigan was usually cool and dry, rather than the sudden heat and humidity that hugged the city that week. Today the heat in the ancient, non-air-conditioned building was almost unbearable. Sunshine streamed into the dim classrooms and offices through smudged windows. Not exactly ideal studying weather. Stale dust tickled Quinn’s nostrils as she tried to focus her attention on what Kashmira was saying.
Despite Quinn’s diminished attention span, the hint of jealously in Kashmira’s voice didn’t go unnoticed as she continued to talk about her younger sister. Kashmira made sure—again—to point out that because Tiara had inherited all the looks in the family, she had a dedicated boyfriend at the ripe old age of nineteen.
Quinn gave Kashmira, not so old at twenty-two, a sidelong glance. Kashmira’s eyebrows were knitted together and her lips moved in words that Quinn didn’t care much about at this moment. When Kashmira smiled, her face absolutely lit up. She was a beauty. Even more so than her sister. However she hadn’t figured that out yet, and a dour expression was her standard.
Poor clueless Kash. If she knew what was really going on, Tiara would be the last thing on her mind, Quinn thought.
Quinn changed the subject—again. “Did you finish the first draft of that Overseas English Literacy paper?”
“Barely,” Kashmira said, and traces of worry lined her eyes. “I’m out of ideas at only fifteen pages. I don’t know how I’m going to stretch it to a full thirty.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
Quinn cringed as the elevator shrieked before making a struggling ascent to the fourth floor. She definitely did not want a repeat of last month when the elevator had stalled with her inside. Especially with Kashmira in this mood. She was relieved when the doors opened on the right floor for a change.
“I don’t know. Double-space?” Kashmira acted like she was kidding, but Quinn was fully aware that she was not.
Both women stepped aside to let a swarm of students gallop by, excited to enjoy one of the best things about Ann Arbor—sunny days on the Diag. “You need to do more research, Kash. Wasn’t this paper going to be the basis of your master’s research?”