by Sophia Lynn
It took her hours before she could drift off into a light and unsatisfying sleep, and in her dreams, she was searching for her girls while on the phone with Halil. He was trying to give her directions to find them, but his voice was garbled, and she couldn’t understand him, couldn’t make him speak up or speak more clearly . . .
***
Myriah woke with a jolt as the flight attendant announced the plane beginning its descent. There was bright sunlight beyond the plane window, and she looked out over the airport close to Ealim’s capitol.
For a moment, she felt a stab of relief that her journey was almost over, and at the same time, she felt that same terror rise up in her, the need to know what had happened to her loved ones practically choking her.
She stumbled off of the plane feeling as if she hadn’t slept at all, and there were two more men in dark suits who hurried her to into the car. Unlike in the United States, there was no troubling with customs or identification. Apparently being a guest of the sheikh himself had some advantages.
During the drive into the city, Myriah turned to the man sitting with her.
“Are you a father?” she asked, and he hesitated for a moment before responding.
“Yes,” he said reluctantly. “Three boys.”
“I have three girls. In my position, wouldn’t you want to know what had happened to them? Please . . . please tell me something. Anything.”
He hesitated, and shook his head.
“I’m so sorry. I cannot.”
Myriah gave up at that point. The tears that she had been fighting back for so long started to flood down her face, and that was how she was escorted into the royal palace, her eyes full of tears. She was led through long marble passages, down long sweeping staircases, and everywhere she looked, she saw guards.
Then a final door was opened and she saw Rose sitting on the ground, the girls around her, playing with soft blocks.
“Rose!”
Rose looked up, and then in a heartbeat she was across the room, throwing herself into her sister’s arms. That was as unlike the cool and sarcastic Rose as could be, but Myriah just grabbed on to her sister, weeping in frenzied relief. Then she reached for her girls, who were confused by her crying, and set free a collective howl of their own.
It felt like she couldn’t get enough of them, couldn’t get enough of holding them, and hugging them and simply reassuring herself that they were all right. It felt like it was hours later before she finally dried her eyes and looked at her sister. Her girls were safe, that was all that mattered, and now she could consider other things.
“Rose, what the hell happened?”
Chapter Twenty
Myriah
Early the next morning, the phone they had given her chirped softly, and Myriah woke up with a start. She felt that strange and unbalanced feeling that came from being disoriented by time and date. She had no idea what time it would have been in Boston. All she knew was that right now, there was a thin gray morning light coming through the windows.
She fumbled with the phone and saw that the notification was a text from Halil.
Can we talk when you’re awake?
She hesitated for a moment, and then keyed in her response.
I’m awake now, but what about the girls? They’re exhausted, and I just don’t know if I can leave them.
The response was fast.
I’ll send Kamala up.
She supposed it made sense that Kamala would be with them as well, and she couldn’t resist smiling at the young woman when she appeared at the door.
“They’re asleep right now, probably won’t be up for a few hours yet, but I’m happy to see you,” she offered, and Kamala smiled at her.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of them while you speak with the sheikh.”
For a moment, Myriah looked down at her clothes with dismay. There had been pajamas in her size in the closet, but no other clothes, and then she shook her head. She had just experienced the worst twenty-four hours of her life, and it would take a royal proclamation to get her into real clothes any time before noon.
She started to regret her casual attire when she followed the silent man in black through the palace. It was grandiose, every inch what she had imagined when it came to thinking about fairy tales and happily-ever-afters. Myriah felt small and insignificant, but then the man indicated that they had arrived, and she forgot all about how out of place she was.
What am I going to say? What in the world am I going to do?
Almost timidly, she opened the door that had been indicated. It led to a gorgeous study, lined with books and studded with tall windows that stretched up into the second story above. As the door clicked closed behind her, she saw Halil look up from a tablet he was browsing at the desk, and the flood of relief that flowed through her told her more about the truth of her emotions than almost anything in the world could have.
“Halil—”
There were a thousand things she wanted to say, a thousand more things she wanted to do, but before his name was even out of her mouth, he was across the room, sweeping her up in his arms. He held her a little too tight, and she was still painfully aware of how shabbily she was dressed, but in that moment, all that Myriah cared about was being with Halil, being in his arms, and against her will, tears welled up in her eyes again.
“I’m sorry,” Halil said, his voice little more than an anguished whisper. “I am so sorry. I couldn’t tell you, and I couldn’t warn you, and when we couldn’t find you, I thought I was going to go out of my mind with fear and with pain . . .”
Myriah wished that life was as simple as her heart was insisting it was. She was with him now, and that was all that was important. It was the only thing that mattered. Then she got a hold of herself, and somehow, she found the strength to push him back.
“Halil, what happened?” Her voice was shaky but firm, and he nodded. It seemed to pain him to let her go, but somehow he managed it, standing up straighter like a soldier on parade.
“A domestic threat,” he said. “There were whispers through my intelligence network that some foreign groups had gotten a hold of information about the girls. About you. There were even some indications that they might be planning something—”
“Like a kidnapping?” Myriah said, her hands and face numb.
“Something like that. At least . . . we suspected.”
“So . . . it wasn’t a real threat?”
Halil smiled a little, his expression more grim than not.
“It turned out to be an immaterial one, a plot hatched by foreigners who were wishing into the void and guessing at the rest. However, all of my security staff takes warnings of that sort seriously, and I . . . I now must as well.”
Halil looked as if he couldn’t resist. He took Myriah’s hand tightly in his, and the next words out of his mouth shocked her.
“Forgive me.”
“Forgive . . . you?”
Halil’s face was a mask of sorrow.
“I should have done better to protect you and the girls. I should have made my case to bring them to Ealim sooner. I could have forced the issue, and even if you hated me, at least it would have been done—”
“Glad you didn’t do that,” Myriah murmured, but Halil continued.
“In the end, I acted to protect our girls because they are precious to me, but also because they are citizens of Ealim and my duty to them always comes first. I couldn’t wait for you. I wanted to. Believe me, it killed me to move the girls to Ealim and to leave my security staff to find you, but the girls . . . I thought the girls needed me.”
When he finished, Halil’s eyes closed, as though he was exhausted. When Myriah reached for him, he jumped, his eyes wide.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Myriah said, her voice fierce. “Nothing at all, I swear. The girls are the most important thing, first, last, and always, do you understand? You should never, ever feel guilty for putting them first, for choosing them! If you did other
wise, maybe then I would be furious with you. And . . . maybe I even understand the rest, the silence, and the need of the security guards to stay mum on what was going on . . .”
“It was considered a necessary precaution,” Halil said with a flinch.
“I understand. But maybe, if God forbid something like this happens in the future, we can change it. But the truth is that, my darling, you have done nothing to be ashamed about. I promise you. The girls are safe. They are safe, and they are happy, and at the end of it, that is all I want. That is all that I have ever wanted.”
She was ready for his embrace this time, and she sunk into it willingly. His arms around her were all that she had ever wanted, all that she had ever needed, and now she was with him. It was the only thing that mattered now that Leah, Mina, and Katie were all right, and there were no words spoken for a long time.
When Halil finally pulled back a little, Myriah grinned up at him.
“You look after the girls. You look after my sister. You look after me. Those are just a few of the reasons why I love you.”
He stared at her, and Myriah shrugged, slightly self-conscious.
“You don’t have to say it back. I won’t be offended. It’s just something I’ve realized for a long time, and I didn’t want to . . . What are you doing?”
To her shock, Halil was going down on one knee in front of her, reaching for something in his pocket. Was it . . . ? How in the world could it be . . . ?
“Halil . . . what are you doing?”
“What I’ve been doing is waiting,” he said softly. “I have been waiting for the right time, the perfect moment, the place in our crazy lives where this would make the most sense. Then I realized that that moment didn’t exist, because I cannot put this off a moment longer.
“Myriah, we have been through so much together, and in such a short amount of time. All unlooked for, we have a family together, and now I want to close that circle. You are the bravest and brightest and most perfect woman I have ever met. You have already given me three beautiful girls, and though they would be enough for any proud father, I want more from you.”
“More?”
“I want to wake up next to you every day. I want to go to sleep with you every night. I want to walk with you through the streets of my country, which is also the country of our daughters and which will be your country if you only say yes to me. I want you to be recognized by all my people as the woman who rules next to me, and someday when we die, I want to be set up in the sky as two stars, looking down on the world that we have created together. Myriah . . . will you marry me?”
Halil pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket, and when he opened it, Myriah gasped at the ring inside. It was a single large diamond of the palest blue shade, surrounded by at least a dozen small diamonds around its edge. It was a gorgeous ring, gleaming like the star Halil wanted to become someday, and for a moment, Myriah couldn’t speak.
“Say you love me again,” she said finally, and he smiled.
“I love you. More than all the world.”
“Yes. Halil, yes, I will marry you!”
He rose swiftly, putting the ring on her finger at once, and then he caught her up in his arms. The joy that flooded through her was pervasive and perfect, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had found her match, her man, the only one who could be a father to her girls, who would be by her side forever.
When he put her down again, he kissed her, and it was a long time before Myriah could think of anything else.
“And you’ll keep us safe? No matter what comes?”
“Forever,” he swore. “The Sheikhs of Ealim protect what they love, and by all heaven, I love you.”
She took him by the hand.
“Come on,” she said with a delighted smile. “Let’s go tell the girls.”
Epilogue
Myriah
One Year Later
When she woke up, Myriah was sore, slightly fuzzy-heated, and still exhausted all the way to her bones. The private suite at the hospital was comfortable, but it was nothing compared to the comfort of the palace that had become home. They had said she would be able to go home in a week, and come hell or high water, she was holding them to that.
A glance at the clock over the door told her that it was going on ten in the evening, and she smiled at the hunched shape that was sleeping in the chair next to her. Even as she watched, Halil stirred, and then he stood and smiled at her.
“Sleeping well?”
“Dozed off and slept longer than I thought I would. How are they doing?”
“No change. They fell asleep not long after you did.”
Before the words were even out of his mouth, a thin cry rose from the crib next to her, and then a second one joined it.
“Ah, good timing,” Halil said, and Myriah smiled.
“Pass me one, and you hang on to the other?”
“Of course.”
Despite the fact that it would be quite some time before she could do anything about it, there was still a tired part of Myriah’s thoughts that lingered on how very good Halil looked when he peeled his T-shirt over his head and handed her Malik before cuddling his twin brother Ali close to his chest. Myriah brought Malik close to nurse, something inside her relaxing a bit when she felt him latch and start to suck.
“Are the girls doing all right?” she asked softly.
“Not bad at all. Pretty crazy to see you, but Rose has been keeping them entertained with pictures of you and the new boys.”
“Five kids,” she said with a soft laugh. “We’re definitely more than outnumbered now.”
“Divide and conquer, that’s the way we’ll do it,” Halil said lightly. “But we probably have until these little ones start to toddle before we have to start thinking strategy.”
She brushed gently at Malik’s soft, downy, dark hair. She wondered what kind of future her boys and girls would have. Would they get along with each other? Would they fight? Who would be darling little angels and who would be wild to the point where she and Halil would need to tear out their own hair? There was no way to tell. Life was always so unpredictable, and in the end, all she could do was hope and pray that it would turn out well.
Halil glanced up from nuzzling the top of Ali’s head with his nose. “What are you laughing about?” he asked, coming closer.
Myriah took a moment to kiss him before she replied. It reminded her of how close he had insisted upon being while she was giving birth. There was absolutely nothing that would comfort her, that would alleviate any of the pain or calm her terrified mind, besides feeling him close, his lips pressed against her forehead, her hand held tightly in his.
“Only how unexpected the world is sometimes,” she said. “Just a year ago, I had three daughters, and we were all on our own.”
Halil smiled at her with a light that could warm her forever in his eyes. In many ways, she had come to realize, he had been alone as well until that fateful day in Ealim.
“And now, you have three girls, two boys and a husband who will never, ever let you go.”
“I do. I love you, Halil, and our family, so very much.”
“There’s no end to our love,” Halil murmured, kissing the top of her head. “No end to our family, and no end to us.”
THE END
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