Sophie (The Boss 8)

She seemed to think about it for a moment, then said, “That’s okay. Sometimes I get cranky, too.”

Rashida stayed very quiet throughout dinner. I wondered what Amal had said, but I couldn’t ask in front of her.

After they finished with their food, we sent the girls off to the den and promised we’d join them when we were done. I toyed with my fork to stop myself from picking up my phone. “What did Amal say before she stormed off?”

El-Mudad wiped his mouth and took a final sip of his water before answering. He couldn’t meet my eyes. “She said that Neil left to get drunk and that the two of you would kick us out when he came back.”

“Oh my god.” My heart hurt so bad it made my sternum ache. “You know that’s not true.”

“Of course, I know. And Amal does, as well. But when she’s hurting, she lashes out at others. Her pain doesn’t excuse her behavior, but...I understand it.”

“It’s too much to feel.” I knew that overwhelming emotional anger, too. “Please, talk to Rashida. She adores Neil. I don’t ever want her to think—”

“Consider it done. Why don’t you put Olivia to bed tonight, and I’ll discuss things with my girls, then?”

“Sounds good.” I pushed back from the table.

“Wait. We need to talk.”

“Please,” I said, lifting a hand. “Please, don’t make a decision about leaving us. Not tonight.”

“I’m not leaving you! I wouldn’t even think of it!” His dark eyes shone with hurt. “Sophie, please. Trust me enough to believe that I won’t run from you.”

“I do trust you.” I did, though I felt as though I were about to be scolded. Which was silly; El-Mudad only ever treated me with respect. My emotions were so out of whack after the afternoon we’d had. “I’m sorry. I keep expecting some other, hideous shoe to drop.”

“I know. This experience is surreal, and we’re all…” he flailed his arms a bit. “But I need to be fully informed about what’s happening here. I missed quite a lot of it, trying to collect my children before border agents could scoop them up.”

El-Mudad was usually easy-going. He was the peacemaker of the three of us, preferring calm and kindness to Neil’s blunt reason and my occasionally histrionic reactions. Now, he was just as angry as either of us could get.

I took a deep breath. “We’re pretty sure Valerie and Laurence reported us. They said we had drugs in the house, and Olivia wasn’t safe. The only person who would have known that drugs had ever been hidden in this house is Valerie.” The words picked up speed as they tumbled out of me. “She knew exactly where, El-Mudad. The social worker knew about the drugs he’d hidden in the bookshelf. Only Valerie knew I’d found coke in there. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that your girls got dragged into this, and I swear to god there isn’t anything in this house right now.”

“I know there isn’t.” He reached across the corner of the table and took my hand. “I only wanted to make certain I knew all of it. You must stop being afraid that I’m going to leave you.”

“We’ve brought all of this drama into your life. Neil and I are drama magnets or something,” I lamented.

“Do you remember what happened when Neil went to the hospital?” El-Mudad asked patiently. “Did I run from you?”

“You kind of ran toward us.” I laughed ruefully and covered my eyes, dragging my hands down my tired face, stretching it out of shape.

“And I would do it again. A hundred times.” He leaned in, his deep, intense eyes holding mine. “So often, I felt helpless, knowing you two needed me but not being able to be there for you. When we separated, even though we were not so serious as we are now, I despaired. I wanted you. I needed you both. But I couldn’t tell you. Now that I’m here, do you think I would run away?”

I leaped from my chair and threw my arms around his neck.

“Hey, hey,” he chuckled against my ear, pulling me into his lap. “Stop this. You must stop worrying that I’m going to leave the two of you. I’ve never been so happy as I am now.”

Speaking without crying would have been too tricky, so I just let him hold me.

“We should check on the girls and put Olivia to bed,” he said after a few moments.

I wiped my eyes and nodded. An embarrassed laugh bubbled up through my foolishness. “I’m sorry I’m so dramatic.”

“We’ve all been through a lot today,” he reassured me. “Let’s take this one minute at a time.”

I moved through Olivia’s bedtime routine automatically. It seemed as though I should say something to her about what had happened at dinner and school, but without knowing how much of the situation she could comprehend, everything I could think of to say felt wrong. Even if we’d had a book that addressed the subject, Olivia only wanted Fancy Nancy. As the oft-read story concluded and Olivia still hadn’t asked about anything going on around us, I wondered if it were possible to scrape through this entire experience without Olivia ever realizing something was amiss.