Conveniently His Princess

Shaheen’s pursed lips were the essence of disapproval. “No, she hasn’t been married or even engaged.”

He smirked in self-satisfaction at the accuracy of his projections. “At her age, by Zohaydan standards, she’s already long fossilized.”

“How gallant of you, Aram. I thought you were a progressive man who’s against all backward ideas, including ageism. I never dreamed you’d hold a woman’s age against her in anything, let alone in her suitability for marriage.”

“You know I don’t subscribe to any of that crap. What I’m saying is if she is a Zohaydan woman, and a princess, who didn’t get approached by a man for that long, it is proof that she is generally viewed as incompatible with human life.”

“The exact same thing could be said about you.”

Throwing his hands up in exasperation, he landed them on his friend’s shoulders. “Listen carefully, Shaheen, because I’ll say this once, and we will not speak of this again. I will not get married. Not to become Zohaydan and become your minister of economy, not for any other reason. If you really need my help, I’ll gladly offer you and Zohayd my services.”

Shaheen, who had clearly anticipated this as one of Aram’s answers, was ready with his rebuttal. “The level of involvement needed has to be full-time, with you taking the top job and living in Zohayd.”

“I have my own business…”

“Which you’ve set up so ingeniously and have trained your deputies so thoroughly you only need to supervise operations from afar for it to continue on its current trajectory of phenomenal success. This level of efficiency, this uncanny ability to employ the right people and to get the best out of them is exactly what I need you to do for Zohayd.”

“You haven’t been working the job full-time,” he pointed out.

“Only because my father has been helping me since he abdicated. But now he’s retreating from public life completely. Even with his help, I’ve been torn between my family, my business and the ministry. Now we have another baby on the way and family time will only increase. And Johara is becoming more involved in humanitarian projects that require my attention, as well. I simply can’t find a way to juggle it all if I remain minister.”

He narrowed his eyes at Shaheen. “So I should sacrifice my own life to smooth out yours?”

“You’d be sacrificing nothing. Your business will c

ontinue as always, you’d be the best minister of economy humanly possible, a position you’d revel in, and you’ll get a family…something I know you have always longed for.”

Yeah. He was the only male he knew who’d planned at sixteen that he’d get married by eighteen, have half a dozen kids, pick one place and one job and grow deep, deep roots.

And here he was, forty, alone and rootless.

How had that happened?

Which was the rhetorical question to end all rhetorical questions. He knew just how.

“What I longed for and what I am equipped for are poles apart, Shaheen. I’ve long come to terms with the fact that I’m never getting married, never having a family. This might be unimaginable to you in your state of familial nirvana, but not everyone is made for wedded bliss. Given the number of broken homes worldwide, I’d say those who are equipped for it are a minority. I happen to be one of the majority, but I happen to be at peace with it.”

It was Shaheen who took him by the shoulders now. “I believed the exact same thing about myself before Johara found me again. Now look at me…ecstatically united with the one right person.”

Aram bit back a comment that would take this argument into an unending loop. That it was Shaheen and Johara’s marriage that had shattered any delusions he’d entertained that he could ever get married himself.

What they had together—this total commitment, trust, friendship and passion—was what he’d always dreamed of. Their example had made him certain that if he couldn’t have that—and he didn’t entertain the least hope he’d ever have it—then he couldn’t settle for anything less.

Evidently worried that Aram had stopped arguing, Shaheen rushed to add, “I’m not asking you to get married tomorrow, Aram. I’m just asking you to consider the possibility.”

“I don’t need to. I have been and will always remain perfectly fine on my own.”

Eager to put an abrupt end to this latest bout of emotional wrestling—the worst he’d had so far with Shaheen—he started to turn around, but his friend held him back.

He leveled fed-up eyes on Shaheen. “Now what?”

“You look like hell.”

He felt like it, too. As for how he looked, during necessary self-maintenance he’d indeed been seeing a frayed edition of the self he remembered.

Seemed hitting forty did hit a man hard.

A huff of deprecation escaped him. “Why, thanks, Shaheen. You were always such a sweet talker.”