by Nana Prah
You’re not the only one. Zareb chugged down the rest of the mango-guava drink. “What could she have been thinking?”
“She’s pretty vocal about your hard and fast rule of not training women being asinine and needing to be amended. Besides, you know she doesn’t need a reason to do anything.”
If he wasn’t fuming, Zareb would take a moment to appreciate how well his mother had executed her machinations.
“Reb, what’s bothering you most?”
“The fact that I’ve been lied to and deceived isn’t enough?”
Zed clicked his tongue as he waggled a finger. “I don’t think so. Be honest. You’re in love with Malika.”
“She’s dead to me,” he mumbled.
The statement fell miles short of holding the vitriol that it should. As soon as he learned how to eradicate her from his every thought, then it would be true.
“You don’t allow any woman close enough so you can even dip your toe in that particular river of emotion.”
He glared at his twin. “What’s your point?”
“You’ll use any excuse to stay out of a relationship.”
The quiet in the apartment registered. He berated himself for not noticing it before. A glance at his watch showed the time to be ten. “Where’s my nephew and Rio?”
“Visiting her friend. They’ll be back soon”
A topic change was just what he needed. “Bachelor for a few hours, then? Must be nice. What were you up to?”
“As I was saying, it’s not so much the charade that’s upsetting you, but the fact that you’ve found someone you trust enough to want a commitment with.”
Which then gave her the access to shred him emotionally. Trust was overrated. Relationships even more so. The walls were closing in on him, and the air had become stale and hard to draw in. He needed to get out of there.
In a flash, as if anticipating the move, his brother blocked his way when he stood.
“There’s nowhere you can go that you can hide from me, so I don’t know why you’re trying. Consider me your mirror.” Zed chuckled at his little joke. “Admit that you want her in a forever kind of way, forgive, and then go after her.”
“You know it’s not that easy.”
“Things are only as difficult as we make them. Do you love her?”
Looking into the steel-grey glinted version of his own eyes, Zareb couldn’t lie or hide. “Yes.”
“Ha! I could see it coming from a mile away. Now go talk to her to find out her side of the story. If it’s legitimate, which I have a feeling it is, then hook up.” Zed pointed an index finger. “Believe me, you never want to let the woman you love go.”
Zareb recalled the misery Zed had gone through before ending up with his wife and child. “If your situation is anything to go by, then I don’t want to ever experience it.”
“Does that mean you’re going to her?”
He couldn’t. Not when thinking about her dishonesty still caused his shoulders to tense. He’d probably end up saying something he’d regret if he met with Malika now. Would the pain ever go away enough for him to not see a lying, scheming, dubious woman? Not the first to have screwed him over.
“I’ll think about it.”
Which he wouldn’t.
***
“How many times do you want me to tell you what happened?” Malika asked her friend.
Shoshana had video-called to inform her about their latest client and had ended up with an earful of the Zareb debacle.
A night of crying had left her voice hoarse and her nasal passages congested. The red, puffy eyes had been a dead giveaway to her misery.
“At least four. My memory is crap, and I need to be able to write some of this down when we get off the phone so I can capture it in full and grand detail if I ever have to write your biography.”
Malika snorted.
“Girl, I’m serious. Anyone who gets stabbed with a fake sword needs her own book. By the way, congrats on whooping those guys’ asses. You being an Olympic contender will draw in the clients.”
“I won’t be going anywhere if I don’t find a coach. Zareb is out of the question.”
“Why? Just because you lied to get him to acknowledge your skill doesn’t mean he won’t train you.”
“Come on, Shoshana. Stop being sarcastic.”
“I’m being sincere. If the fact that people lie stopped progress, everyone’s resumés would have to go through some intensive scrutiny.”
“This is a lot more serious than that.”
Her friend grunted.
“Not from where I’m sitting. You have the potential to be the best at what you do. I’m sure he recognizes that and wouldn’t be stupid enough to lose the possibility of claiming you.” Shoshana waved her hands. “No. Forget I said that. Come back to the US. We’d love to have you. We need even more representation of Black female excellence in the Olympics. Get your ass back here.”
For the first time in a couple of days, Malika laughed. “You’re too much.”
“What did the queen say?”
Yesterday, she’d drudged up the strength to meet Queen Zulekha for lunch in her quarters. The conversation had been both touching and frustrating. Just like the woman.
“He takes after me in more ways than my other children,” the queen had said. “We have a lightning-quick temper, but it burns out easily. It’s sad.” She’d sighed, as if lamenting her inability to sustain a state of rage. “In the end, our initial reactions are quite cathartic.” A royal finger had pointed to the ceiling. “Maybe not for the person we explode on.”
Didn’t she remember that her son had cast out all women from entering his coaching sphere for the past couple of years? He possessed more than a short-fledged temper.
“That’s just it. He didn’t yell or even chastise me.” Malika’s shoulders had slumped. “He avoided me.”
She’d jumped at Queen Zulekha’s unexpected clap.
“That’s even better. It means he wasn’t truly angry. He’ll get over it. Yes, we deceived him, but he’ll understand once you explain.”
Malika had slapped a hand to her chest and regretted it as pain shuddered from her wound.
“Me?” It had come out as a high-pitched wheeze. “Wouldn’t it be better coming from you? It was your idea for me to act like a young man.”
“No, darling. I can’t get involved. This is between you and Zareb. The resolution of this conflict will set the stage for your future.”
“But ... but …” she had sputtered, not believing what she’d heard. The queen had been intrusive throughout the whole venture, and now, she was willing to back down? Unbelievable.
“I’m sure he’s figured out my involvement, so I’ll have to smooth his ruffled feathers. If I attempt to advocate on your behalf, he’ll fight it.” She’d tapped a finger to her chin. “I believe he gets his stubbornness from me, too.”
No doubt.
“You mentioned leaving the palace tomorrow. I wish you wouldn’t.”
“What’s the point of staying? The doctor said that I couldn’t start training again for a few weeks. Besides, Zareb won’t look at me, much less coach me. Not after …”
Queen Zulekha had sliced into her egg fried yam as if Malika’s world wasn’t crumbling.
“Have you asked him?”
“Well, no. I presumed that after everything that happened, he’d sack me.”
The queen’s keen eyes had held hers. “Can I suggest that you talk to my son before slinking away and hiding in your family home?”
Malika had sighed. “I’m afraid.”
“Of what?”
She’d bitten her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. “That he never wanted me. Not enough to try to give us a chance after I messed up so badly. His pride was caught up in the situation, so I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me.”
A sob had escaped.
The queen had pushed her seat from the table and come to her.
“Oh, my sweet Malika.�
��
The tenderness of the older woman’s embrace had been reminiscent of her mother’s, and the dam of emotion had broken.
“That’s it, sweetheart, let it all out. You’ve been strong for much too long. Helping to take care of your family after such a grievous loss. Sacrificing your fencing career, putting your business in jeopardy by moving across the world, and now this.”
The tears had cascaded down her face as she’d held onto the queen. The woman who offered her the closest thing to a mother’s love.
Replete from crying, she’d felt better. Not back to her normal self, but she could see that running away wouldn’t help her get back the man she loved.
“Thank you, Queen Zulekha.”
Soft hands had clasped her cheeks. “You are mine. I’m not trying to, and never could replace your mother, but please call me Mama.”
Her eyes had watered again. She’d heard Zareb call her that. “Mama.”
The queen’s throat had bobbed with a heavy swallow. “Good.”
Her voice had come out husky, and she’d cleared it as she returned to her seat.
“Can I give you some advice.”
Even more comfortable with the older woman, Malika had chuckled. “Can I stop you?”
“You’re a quick learner. It will please me to teach you the ways of becoming a princess while you recover from your injury.”
Her mouth had dropped open. The queen had reached out to hook a finger against her chin and raise it.
“Lesson number one. Royalty does not gape.”
“I don’t understand. I’m not a princess. Why would I need to learn to be one?”
The smile had been worthy of a portrait. “Because, my darling, the moment you marry my son, you will be one.”
“But … I …”
“Mark my words. Zareb will forgive you. It will help if you’re always in his domain. I find that I can avoid the temptation of cake when it isn’t in the house. Once it’s in front of me, it’s as good as consumed.”
“Am I supposed to be cake?”
The queen had laughed. “No, he doesn’t eat sweets. You’re going to be what Zareb loves most in the world.”
She had raised her brows. “What’s that?”
“Someone to protect.”
Malika blinked at the screen to find Shoshana waving and calling her name.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“Did the queen tell you that you didn’t have a chance?”
“The opposite,” she said with a bit of hope. “She told me not to give up on him or my dream.”
“The queen sounds like me. She must be amazing!”
“She definitely is. Just like you.”
“Aww.”
Malika rolled her eyes. “Let’s get to work.”
Shoshana’s orange-glossed lips turned downward. “I’d rather hear about you and Zareb doing the deed. Was it good?”
“I’m not discussing it,” she said as she nodded several times with a loopy grin on her face.
Her friend laughed. “I knew it. Nobody gets this upset when the sex is bad. I’m glad you’re feeling a little better. Since I can’t get the tea, I’ll settle for making more money.”
“Smart woman.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You called for me, Mama?” Zareb asked in a droll tone resembling his sister Amira’s when she was being her respectful type of sassy.
He’d spent the past couple of days after the tournament doing two things: avoiding a confrontation with the domineering, controlling woman who’d raised him, and trying to get over Malika.
He’d discovered that getting Malika off his mind was as futile as tracking an angel. Her essence had tainted everywhere he enjoyed, so how could he forget about her? He’d slept in a room at the palace just so he didn’t have to look at his couch, bed, or bathroom and recall how their time together had been the most incredible experience of his life.
“Don’t stand at the entrance sulking, love.” She patted the couch. “Come in and sit.”
When he did as ordered, she tucked a stray loc into his loose ponytail. He’d had little energy to make himself presentable lately. Something that further aggravated him. At least, he hadn’t let the situation distract him from work.
“I see that you’re irritated,” she said in a saccharine tone that grated on his nerves.
He kept his mouth shut. What did she expect him to do? Rage at her? He’d never disrespect her in that manner. Although the passive-aggressive silence hadn’t been his natural style, he’d utilized the tactic that would emphasize how deeply he’d been affected by her betrayal.
She triple-clicked her tongue. “I’d expect this avoidance from your siblings, never from you. You must really love Malika to do something so anti-you just to get back at me.”
His head started to ache from how hard he clenched his jaw. “She’s a liar. And you aided her.”
“Yes, I did. But it was for your own good. I’m sure deep down, you knew something was off about the lad. Your intuition wouldn’t have failed you.”
He’d be damned before admitting to the sparks of attraction he’d experienced when he’d touched Sule or the kiss they’d had because he’d reminded him so much of Malika. “It doesn’t change the fact that she isn’t who she said she was.”
“Did she ever tell you she was a male?”
“Now you’re insulting my intelligence. She portrayed one, and that’s the same as admitting it.”
“You have a point.” She smoothed her palm over the skirt of her dress. “Her mother, God rest her soul, used to send me videos of her fencing. Her raw talent reminded me so much of you. When she refused to travel far from her family for fear of losing someone close again, I wanted you to work with her.”
“You could’ve just asked me.”
“I know you better than you know yourself sometimes. You would’ve declined the request, even coming from me. You had set your mind to not coaching women, and that was the end of it. Besides, even if you had said yes, you would’ve never gotten involved with her romantically, and that was more important.”
The energy it took to keep his face void of expression could’ve charged a depleted cell phone battery to full capacity. “Why?”
Her smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “You two belong together. You’re not the only observer in this house.”
Oh, how he knew. As children, they couldn’t get away with anything because she’d catch them, if not before the act, then right after.
“Zareb, you need to talk to her.”
No, he didn’t. Even after just two days, his anger and resolve to keep her out of his life had started to fade, replaced by the deep longing to see her again. He feared that an encounter would lead to forgiveness. He couldn’t let her back in his life only for her to deceive him again.
“You found the perfect person to coach. You know that she’ll be going to the Olympics with or without you. Don’t you want to be the one to help get her there?” His mother paused to let the words sink in. “Promise me you’ll reach out to her and discuss what happened.”
He stood and said nothing. Making such a vow meant he’d have to honour it.
“One.” She paused. “Two. Don’t make me get to three. Say that you’ll see her.”
Had he regressed to a four-year-old all of a sudden? He restrained from scuffing the toe of his shoe on the parquet floor. “Fine. But I’ll choose when.”
That gloating smile of hers deepened his frown.
“Don’t wait too long, sugar cane.”
He left her apartment with a plan to stay as far away from Malika as time and space would allow.
***
Zareb stopped short at the sight of Malika seated across from his desk when he strode into his office. He’d have to fire every single member of his staff.
“How did you get in here?”
The letter she dangled between her fingers bore his mother’s handwriting. “It gives me permission to go
wherever I please in the palace.”
He held in the groan of frustration at his mother’s meddling. The past week had been tough knowing that Malika had remained on the palace grounds. He’d even watched her through the security cameras as she’d walked through the hallways. The creepiness of it wasn’t lost on him.
The objective of spying had been to wean himself from wanting her with so much desperation that it made his hands shake. It hadn’t worked. His bulging eyes had stayed glued to the monitor as his body ached every time he saw her. All the while, his mind called him a thousand sorts of stupid for staying away from the most amazing woman he’d ever met.
The cold shoulder treatment should’ve provoked her to leave his country. It would’ve been a lot easier to get over her without being tempted with her presence every day.
With Malika in the same room, each beat of his heart shouted the word forgive as a rush of blood in his ears. Controlling himself from stepping close enough so he could have her firm body melting against him was proving to be an extraordinary challenge.
The room seemed to shrink as he stalked around the periphery to get to his desk. The barrier would help him to control his urges. If only he didn’t leap over it to reach her, he’d be fine.
“How may I help you?”
Her back straightened at his cordial politeness.
“I’m here for three reasons. The first is to tell you how sorry I am, Zareb. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t have a reason that’s good enough to have ever deceived you. I could’ve found another way. A different coach, but …”
She swallowed hard enough for him to hear.
“I wanted you. A fellow African who defied the odds of being from a small country to make it to the Olympics and won. I wanted to follow in the greatness of your footsteps. To pursue my dreams like I’d promised my mother when she’d been dying. How I went about it was reprehensible. I thought about telling you so many times, but I didn’t, and that’s not good enough. I can understand if you never forgive me, but please know that I’m sincerely sorry.”
The apology had been everything he’d envisioned. Was he ready to forgive? He held her warm brown gaze. He would’ve done the same thing in her place, especially with his mother’s support and prodding. Nothing stopped him when he set a goal.