The Sheikh’s Sham Engagement (The Safar Sheikhs 3)

“As far as I know, yes, it’s set to open on time.” Nasser huffed, sitting back in his seat.

“Great,” Fatim went on. “And what is the competitive pay package to be offered to the starting teachers?”

Nasser just blinked. He had no freaking idea. And he hated that of course Willow was the one who knew all these answers and more. “Do you want me to text Willow to tell her to be here? Because you’re asking questions that only she can answer.”

That came super snarky. Both his brothers cocked a stern look.

“There’s something wrong in the bedroooom,” Amad whistled under his breath.

Fatim leaned forward over the table. “Do you just want to talk about it already? Calla already told me Willow moved out. So let’s just hear it.”

Amad nodded. “Yep, Vanessa told me, too. Your secret’s out of the bag. I mean your cat. God, English idioms.”

Nasser looked between Fatim and Amad. Yes, he did want to talk about it, but talking about it meant that he’d be forced to stop ignoring it. And he loved to ignore the big, bulky issues. It was just easier that way.

“Willow is going to leave me,” he blurted, the words nearly sticking in his throat.

Amad reeled back, a confused look on his face. “No, she’s not.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything—” Nasser started to stand, reaching for his phone and folder.

“Stop.” Fatim held up a hand, using that commanding king voice. “Sit down. Stay.”

“I’m not a dog,” Nasser muttered, leaning back into his chair.

“Point taken. Now continue,” Fatim said.

“I found a folder on Willow’s computer that made it pretty clear she plans to bolt soon. And with our baby no less. I found all sorts of hints about flying with infants, looking for European visas, the long-term issues of living in Germany…” He scoffed. “It’ll be like the first time she left me. I already know it.”

Amad blinked. “So have you asked her if she plans to leave?”

“No,” Nasser spat. “I already found her plans. Besides, the issues we had before? Yeah, they’re still here. And bad. It’s not even worth fighting to make her stay.”

“Whoa,” Amad said. “Whoa now. You just said it’s not even worth fighting for your unborn baby.”

“No, I said it’s not worth—” Nasser tried to correct.

“I heard what you said. And believe me, what you said is that you don’t think your family is worth fighting for.”

Amad’s words thudded over the table, and Nasser worked his jaw back and forth.

“Brother, you are hotheaded and you are passionate,” Fatim said in a softer voice. “We love it about you. You love so hard. But you’re scared, and I get it. You have a family now. Whether you want one or not. And we were not raised to let family run away just because of some stupid issue.”

“It’s not stupid,” Nasser said. “She’s obsessed with planning, and it cramps my style.” He shrugged.

“And that’s it?” Fatim asked.

Nasser sighed, swiping his phone on. “Look. I’ll show you. This calendar? It makes me want to puke.” He pulled it up, swiping through the various screens, at the built-out task lists for every individual day. “See this? This is the digital rendition of a shackle. And I didn’t sign up for that shit.”

Fatim smirked. “I kind of like it, actually.”

“Let me see.” Amad reached for the phone and peered at it, swiping through screens. “It’s a little bulky and overly detailed, but it’s not a shackle. It’s just your girlfriend’s preferred method of organization, brother. Get over it. It doesn’t have to mean anything for you.”

“Yeah, well I don’t use it, and that’s going to cause the end of our relationship.”

“Aw, look at this.” Amad smiled down at the phone, then showed the screen to Nasser. “She leaves you love notes.”

He snatched it out of his hand. “What?” He started scrolling but got frustrated and turned the screen off. “Whatever. Point is, we’re too different.”