Chosen as the Sheikh's Royal Bride

Beth looked down at her tightly clasped hands over the blanket, willing herself not to cry. Her voice trembled as she said in a low voice, “So, how does the divorce thing work?”

She was proud of how casual her voice sounded. As if they were discussing something of little importance.

Emotion crossed his handsome face, emotion that was quickly veiled.

“It doesn’t have to happen immediately. We can take our time.” He took a deep breath. “I have no intention of just throwing you out—”

“Why not? More efficient that way.” She kept her voice cheerful, to hide how her heart was breaking. “Better for the kingdom to end our secret marriage before the scandal goes any further.”

Omar looked her straight in the eyes.

“Beth,” he said in a low voice, “is there any reason why I shouldn’t divorce you?”

“None.” She looked away. What could she do, plead with him to choose her over his country? To make Beth his priority, instead of his duty to the throne? He didn’t love her! “I’ll leave today.”

“At least let me call my lawyers, arrange a fair settlement for you. I don’t want you to think—”

“I don’t want your money.” Her heart was aching. In another moment, she might break down into sobs. If this was the right thing for them both, why did she feel so awful?

“Beth, there’s no reason to—”

“Please, Omar,” she said softly. She couldn’t meet his eyes. “Just let me go.”

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he covered her clasped hands with his own. For the first time, his skin was cold to the touch. As if the fire had gone out.

He repeated something to her three times. Then he said quietly, “Say the same words back to me.”

She did, then waited, her whole body trembling with the effort it took not to collapse, to cling to him and beg him to let her stay and ask why, why, why, he couldn’t love her.

Omar took a deep breath, and removed his hand.

“It’s done,” he said. “We’re divorced.”

She swallowed. “Just like that?”

“As it started, so it ended. The lawyers will have you sign a stack of papers before you leave, to make it all legal. Once it’s filed with the courts this afternoon, it’s official.”

“Oh,” she said dully. “Good.”

Reaching out, he cupped her cheek and gave her a trembling smile. “You deserve a life of good things, Beth. Security. Freedom. And love. Love most of all. All the things I could never give you.” He kissed her forehead. His voice broke as he whispered, “Goodbye, habibi.”

And without another word, without another look, he walked out of Beth’s life—forever.

* * *

Omar felt like he couldn’t breathe as he watched Beth leave the palace an hour later, followed by servants carrying her suitcases and bags.

It was for the best, he told himself fiercely, standing in the window of the throne room. Beth was right. Ending it quickly, rather than drawing out the torture, would be a mercy to them both. Now they knew she wasn’t pregnant, there was no reason to continue. Not when it was so destructive to his country’s peace—and to Beth’s.

Yet, as he’d spoken the words to divorce her, they’d tasted like ash in his mouth. And now, as he watched her leave, his body shook. He wanted to run after her, to grab her, to never let her go.

Is there any reason why I shouldn’t divorce you?

None, she’d said. Please, Omar. Just let me go.

So he did not move. He could not keep Beth here, and watch as her spirit was broken, one tomato, one rock at a time. He could not force her to remain married forever to a man who did not know how to love her, even if he weren’t already bound by endless duty to his country.

He could not trap another woman, watching the bright light inside her slowly fade, until, in her despair, she walked out into the desert to die.