His Hired Bride (The Sheikh's American Love 1) - Page 24

FOURTEEN

The rest of the night at the gallery went slowly. Despite a few conversations and even two great sales thanks to Rafiq’s earlier efforts, I was in a gloom that couldn’t be lifted by a few smiling faces. Even the money didn’t help, now that Rafiq’s series of purchases had meant I was safe in that regard. Rafiq’s departure had hurt something much deeper inside of me.

As a storm of emotions raged inside me, I mechanically went through the motions of closing the store, counting down the day’s numbers, and turning off all the track lights except those which lit the front window through the night.

Fury at Rafiq for his bold and public exhibition competed with the feelings I had for him deep in my heart. It wasn’t that his words had hurt me; in fact, my heart had soared to hear that he had feelings for me like I did for him. But it was the way he did it, and that he was so oblivious to his own life that he thought I would immediately believe he was ready to settle down with me.

He was a conundrum, thoughtful and thoughtless at the same time. How did I reconcile that to my aching heart? How could I commit to a man like that?

Lost in my thoughts, I almost wandered up to my apartment out of habit before I remembered that “home” was somewhere else right now—Rafiq’s penthouse. Dark clouds gathered in my chest. Would he even want me there now, after I publically rejected his advances?

I couldn’t imagine that he would. He was probably embarrassed, and angry. There’s no way Rafiq would want this arrangement to continue, and it was probably for the best, anyway, that it didn’t. As much as I was going to miss having him in my life…

I shook the thoughts out of my head. No, I couldn’t do that to myself. Rafiq didn’t belong in my life. He was a temporary, albeit exciting, diversion, and nothing more. This would end, and my life would go back to normal. I would be fine.

The thoughts didn’t make me feel any better. Instead, I tried to focus on hailing a taxi and counting the stoplights on the drive until we arrived at Rafiq’s building.

My nerves became hotter and hotter as the elevator ascended. A thousand scenarios ran through my mind; of Rafiq starting a fight or saying something to hurt me. Even knowing I would have to look at those broken, sad brown eyes again, filled me with heartache.

But when the doors opened, it was into an empty, dark apartment. Rafiq wasn’t home, and hadn’t left any indication to his whereabouts as far as I could tell. As I wandered through the rooms to ensure I was alone, I checked my phone again to make sure he hadn’t texted, but there was nothing.

Somehow, his silent absence hurt worse than if he had been here waiting to rage at me.

As I walked around the penthouse, all the details of the furniture, lighting and artwork started to burn into my brain like I was trying to save it to remember one cloudy day. I was going to miss it, I realized, and not just because of the luxury. I wanted to remember every part of my time with Rafiq.

It didn’t take me very long to pack the things from my room back into my overnight bags. After I was done, I sat on the end of the plush bed. Listening to the silence of the penthouse, my thoughts became too heavy to take. I thought about going into the painting room to get my frustration out, or maybe settling down in the living room in front of the enormous TV that Rafiq had hanging on the wall and just drowning my emotions out with some numbing entertainment.

But my feet didn’t want to move me from where I was sitting. Instead, I simply kicked my shoes off and snuggled up in the plush, expensive bed of my temporary bedroom one last time.

There was no doubt in my mind that Rafiq was out drowning the pain from my rejection with booze and other women. The realization stung my heart, as true as I knew it to be. I wanted him here in my arms, and yet, at the same time, I didn’t, because I wasn’t sure I had the guts to face him without falling apart completely.

Tears dripped on the stark white of the pillow beneath my face.

It didn’t seem like he would be home tonight. With my bags already packed, I could be out of here first thing in the morning, and then this insane adventure would be over. My life would go back to its own struggles, and I would once again be without Rafiq.

My heart ached even as I fell asleep.

Tags: Holly Rayner The Sheikh's American Love Billionaire Romance
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