He stopped and raked a hand through his hair. “But you’re not sorry.”
“I’m not?”
“No, this is what you expected all along. I can see it in your eyes when I talk to you.”
“Because I can’t say more than ‘I care about you?’ Don’t you think anything more is far too fast after only a month?”
“I don’t, actually,” he said, leaning low, getting so close to her lips that his breath was on her cheek. It burned him that that was as close as Jennifer would let him get to her. It somehow didn’t feel like just hours ago that those delicate, tender lips were covering every conceivable inch of his body. “I think that you can know very soon who you care about, whom you can be with.”
“I don’t, and the truth is, the people who matter are my mother and sister. I can’t disappoint them again. If Sydney makes it, I have to always be by her side, stay focused.”
“Of course, if you run away to New York now, if you just let the clock run out on our marriage until I secure the line of secession, then you don’t risk anything.”
“I’ve risked more in my life than you know,” she said, her voice distorted through her gritted teeth.
“Maybe, but I can see it all now. You’re going to pull the ripcord with me here and now, push me away because you’ve already convinced yourself no matter how hard I tell you otherwise that I can’t possibly love you back. You’re shoving me aside not for your family or Sydney’s health but because you’re a coward!” he said, panting hard.
“That’s not true,” Jennifer said, zipping up her suitcase and trying to shove past him.
He grabbed her arm tightly and spun her around to face him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me part of running isn’t because you’re scared, that this is about us too.”
“It’s about my family,” she said again, as if reciting some nursery rhyme or school fact by rote, but he noticed the way her eyes wouldn’t meet his.
“Then you can’t face the fact that I really could be the one for you. Admit that to yourself, at least. You’re trying to hide. I guess you’re not my wild one after all.”
Chapter Ten
“How is she?” Jennifer croaked out as she raced out of the elevator and into her mother’s waiting embrace with Rose standing close by.
Her throat was scratchy and hoarse, and that was her fault. She’d flown back from Paris on her own. After their fight, Bahan said he didn’t want to upset her anymore or be a “distraction” for her family. He’d also mentioned that he might as well fly back to Yemen for a bit, coordinate some contracts that his family’s construction and shopping emporium business was trying to solidify with their nearby neighbor Dubai. Oddly, he hadn’t mentioned those contracts before, but what did she expect? After she’d broken away with him, set their marriage up as a complete and utter marriage of convenience and for show, Jennifer couldn’t honestly expect him to stay.
Everything felt so hollow, like someone had scooped her insides out like a pumpkin at Halloween, and the tears on her flight hadn’t helped with the exhaustion or depression either. But that wasn’t her choice anymore.
All she could do was be there for Syd. To help support her sister as best as she could.
“She’s in a coma,” her mother said, before breaking down in tears again.
Jennifer shot an apologetic look at her secretary and best friend. “Rose, you’ve been amazing. If you give me a couple of hours to figure it all out, I’ll take a shift off and take you out for a huge thank-you dinner.”
“You don’t owe me anything, honey,” the brunette said, leaning over and kissing her cheek. “Just take care of her, and make sure that the doctors do everything they can.”
“You know I will,” Jennifer said, forcing her voice not to waiver. Her mother needed her to be strong, like always.
After Rose had disappeared behind the shutting elevator doors, she turned to her mother and led her to a plastic chair. It amazed her that even in the best hospitals, the waiting room chairs could also double for diabolical torture devices. Or bright orange parking cones.
“Mom, do you need to go home and get a change of clothes or a shower?”
Her mother shook her head, the graying strands of blond hair tangling over her face as she did so. “I couldn’t leave here if I wanted to. I have a bag with spare stuff and I can always shower in Syd’s room. She’s not going to be able to object…I…what if she can’t ever do anything again?”
Her mother started sobbing and that scared Jennifer more than anything else had, even Rose’s voice mail. She’d never seen her mother completely lose it before—not the day her father left, not with Syd’s other stays in the hospital, and not even when Jennifer told her about her sister’s need for a transplant. If even Carole Wilde thought that hope might be gone, then the situation was dire. Usually, her mother was the toughest damn woman she knew, as well as the biggest optimist. After all, where else would Sydney get her bubbly kindness from?
“She will,” Jennifer said, shushing her mother and rocking back and forth with her. “I’ll sit right by Sydney, hold her hand long enough for you to shower in the room. You’ll feel better when you’re clean.”
“What about you?”
She blushed, trying to think about how she’d explain her bath from last night. God, had it only been twelve hours since Bahan had made her scream in pleasure?
“I’m clean. Bahan’s jet had a shower facility on it.”