Ashes and Light
Page 33
He crossed the garden, looking up to the slopes of Kohi Asamayi where the kites were flying free in the afternoon wind. She went to him there, praying he would listen.
“Michael?”
She placed a hand on his arm in the golden light of the afternoon. Those shattered pale eyes cut straight to her heart. He still didn’t believe, had lost the drive to live. It was testament to him he’d come here at all, and oh Allah, she didn’t want him to leave.
“Michael, I….” Dared she tell him how she felt? She would if she could only know he’d believe. She realized she was no longer chasing after Yaqub. He was at peace. It was Michael she had to heal, to love.
In one motion of surrender she stepped up to him and his arms took her in. She pressed into him, became one with him, as her arms encircled his neck.
“Michael.” It was all she managed to say before his lips were on hers.
“Praise Allah, Khadija.” He kissed her face again, again, again. “When you’re with me the window of my soul opens and you heal me. Give me a reason to stay in Afghanistan. Will you be my wife?” He murmured it into her hair, her neck, her heart.
She nodded and all the broken pieces of her honor, her life, her past were mended. Her body filled with a great light.
She knew, across the garden, the sun would find her papa smiling.
About the Author
Karen L. McKee is a well-traveled writer who has explored the cultures and countries that border Afghanistan. She is the author of literary, erotic and fantasy fiction. She lives on the west coast of Canada with two Bengal cats that aren’t quite as well traveled as she is.
If you’d like to learn more about her, visit her alter-ego at www.karenabrahamson.com.