Sheikh's Fake Fiancee

Her mother leaned over and swept Syd’s bangs back from her face. “No, I understand all of that more than you could ever know.”

“And that’s why I’m messing up even now. I should be handling the tough stuff so you don’t have to.”

Her mom frowned back at her. “Oh, Jenny, you don’t really always feel that, do you?”

She stiffened, not wanting to reveal too much, but she was also beyond exhausted. She just wanted to crawl into her bed and cry. Jennifer had spent weeks trying to be strong, and she couldn’t do it any longer. Maybe, in a way, she’d been strong since Syd was just a baby and her dad had left. It was too heavy a burden to carry any longer.

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “It’s just that I feel all the time like you and Syd are my responsibility. I feel like since Dad left, I have to fix it.”

“You don’t have to fix anything. Sweetie,” her mother said, leaning closer and stroking her cheek, “don’t you understand that I have to take care of you?”

“But it’s just us and Dad left and Sydney was sick, and we all had to do the best we could. I just knew you were so upset for so long and working three jobs. Someone had to help.”

“And you did. You’ve always been my good girl, but you don’t have to anymore.”

“It just feels,” Jennifer started, her voice thick with emotion, “like everything gets pulled out from under us. You can’t trust guys. Dustin was a cheater and so was Dad. You can only rely on yourself, and I have to help you the best I can.”

Her mom squeezed her shoulder. “No, honey. Sure, we help each other, but you never have to take care of me. You never have to feel like you’re the mom. We’re a team.”

“I can try, but I just want you to be happy.”

“But if you make yourself miserable and exhausted, then I’m not happy. Please, I can see the smile you’re trying to force for me. It’s okay to feel how you feel, to be scared for Sydney. I am too. But you don’t have to take the lead again. You don’t. And you’re wrong.”

“I am?”

“Yes, because not every man is untrustworthy. I know that you and Bahan had a fight, but he dotes on Sydney even now. He’s a good man. I…before Sydney got sick, I met a man out doing some errands in Frankfort. James and I have been dating a bit and exchanging texts. He’s sent me a card every few days I’ve been in New York.”

“You still date?”

“I went back to it once Sydney went to college. Some have been good and some bad, but there’s always that chance the next guy will be as thoughtful and kind as James. There are men as honorable as Bahan. You don’t close your heart off because off the bad ones. You can’t,” her mother said, emphasizing her point by sweeping Jennifer into a big hug.

That was the final straw for her.

The tears fell freely down her face and she felt her body shake as she sobbed. Her mom took her tightly and rocked her as she cried, letting out decades of frustration and not just about her struggle to stay stoic or the men who’d hurt her. No, it was more than that. It was all the worry for her sister and all the hatred she had turned inwards on herself, for her inability to love Bahan the right way. For being so stupid and cold as to push him away when her family should have been coming together to support each other.

“Shh, sweetheart, just let it out.”

“But Sydney…and then I shoved Bahan away. I…what if he never forgives me?”

There was a loud beeping sound and both women turned around. The doctor rushed in with the nursing team and Jennifer’s heart felt as if it might bust through her chest. Her eyes grew wide with disbelief as the doctor pulled the tubes from her sister and helped Sydney as the girl opened her eyes. The nurses held their hands up as her now alert and thriving sister went through a basic battery of neu

rological tests. When she’d cleared everything and her vitals had been taken twice, the doctor asked to take her mom outside and explain all of the changes, and then the nurses stepped to the corner, giving her and her sister some privacy.

“Are you okay?” she asked, the joy almost impossible to suppress as a genuine smile swept over her face.

“My mouth is dry and I feel weird from the tubes,” her sister admitted. “I just…did I have my surgery already?”

“No, baby,” she said, kissing her sister’s cheek. “Your sugar spiked and you were in a coma. Do you remember?”

“I remember watching cheesy Christmas specials with Rose, and then I felt dizzy. Am I better?”

They both turned to the nurses for clues.

The taller nurse, the one with the Snoopy scrubs, nodded. “The sugar levels are normal and she reacted typically to all neurological tests. We’ll be able to put her back in her slot for the transplant.”

“Great,” she said, hugging her sister tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, but I have to admit I’m double confused.”