The Sister (The Boss 6)

“Like when I go to work on Monday,” I pointed out.

“Yes. I’m nervous about that.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“Well, I worry about how you might feel. That you might worry I’m trying to…”

“To steal Neil away?” I shook my head and looked down at the tabletop. “No. I could think a lot of things about you, but not that you would do that.”

“A lot of things?” He looked taken aback. “Should I be concerned?”

I tried to smile, but it faltered. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just… My only reservation is that you and Neil have more in common than you and I. And even he and I when I really tally it up. I’m worried I’ll feel left out. Or like a third wheel.”

El-Mudad considered silently, for long enough that I worried I might have offended him. Then, he said, “No. You and I share some very important things in common.”

My eyes watered, remembering. When Neil had been in the hospital after his suicide attempt, El-Mudad had told me his own story of a past lover—the one who’d inspired him to use the name Emir—who’d had a problem similar to Neil’s.

Their story hadn’t turned out as well.

“On the surface, we don’t have much in common,” he went on. “But those things you feel Neil and I share don’t bind us the way you believe they do. It was the last year that brought me to this point, to love you both the way I do.”

I thought back to that week he’d spent with me, the way he’d come to stand by me at the darkest time in my life. He’d told me he loved me, and he’d proved it in a hundred small ways. Reminding me to change my clothes, take a shower, eat a meal, care for myself when I didn’t care about myself. He’d pulled me back from the brink of my own crisis, and he’d been under no obligation to me or to Neil.

And he’d taken an enormous risk to get involved, after what he’d been through, himself. How had I not realized that before?

“You do, don’t you?” I asked, stunned. “You really do love us.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” He never took his eyes from mine. “I’m sincere in all things, Sophie. I don’t have the unkindness to hurt people for sport.”

“I would never have thought that of you.” I was just confused at how and when it had happened. “But I also never thought you would fall in love with us. Or that we would fall in love with you.”

My heart swelled. I loved him. Neil and I love him. How was that possible?

I’d been raised to believe that love was between two people, and anything outside of that was cheating. If you fell in love with another person, it was a problem—not a blessing. In a few short years, all of that had been turned upside down.

“If I had ever imagined it would turn out this way, perhaps I would have run,” he admitted, toying with the napkin rolled around his silverware. “This is a frightening prospect to me, Sophie. You worry about me having more in common with Neil, while I see you with him and think it isn’t possible to have that same connection with the two of you. But if I could change my feelings…I wouldn’t.”

“My, my, don’t we look tense?” Neil startled us both, and we looked up guiltily. But why? We hadn’t been discussing anything he couldn’t hear. This was as much his conversation as ours.

“Not tense,” I explained. “Just working some things out.”

“Sophie is afraid she might become a third wheel,” El-Mudad stated bluntly. “Because you and I share so many common interests.”

“Oh, I don’t think that would be a problem,” Neil said, as though it would be the easiest thing in the world for us all to trio up without someone being left behind. And while his easygoing dismissal might have been a little rose-tinted, it did make me feel better. Neil and I were married. Without flattering myself, I could say that I was one of the most important people in his life. It did seem a little silly to think he’d throw me over just because El-Mudad could talk about supercars with him. And El-Mudad and I cared about each other; he’d no sooner hurt me than I would hurt him.

“That’s what I said.” El-Mudad gave an easy shrug. “And there are still so many ways we must get to know each other.”

Ways that don’t involve tragedy, I finished for him mentally.

“Like dancing?” He inclined his head toward the dance floor, where a few couples danced—badly—to “Uptown Girl.”

“By all means,” Neil said, not bothering to hide his disgust.

I rolled my eyes. “That would be lovely. Even if this is a weird song to dance to.”