“But Jalal still hasn’t decided how to settle this whole mess between himself and Haidar!”
“Then tell Jalal to get his gorgeous butt settled, and tell your fiancé the truth before it messes up your newly fixed relationship!” Cherie came down beside her, hugged her to her side. “Listen, I took your advice and I’m getting back together with Ayman. We’re even moving out of Azmahar so we can adopt. And as you jogged my mind back into the right place, I have to return the favor. Besides, the first time I nudged you to go after your man, you ended up with the biggest catch of the century in your net and the freaking origin piece of the Pride of Zohayd jewels on your hand. So am I good, or am I good?”
Roxanne hugged her. “You’re superlative. I owe you far more than I can repay. And oh, I’m so happy about you and Ayman.”
Cherie fluttered her lashes at her. “This means you forgive me for the mess I made of your immaculate place?”
A laugh burst out of her tight chest. “I’ve come to believe immaculate is overrated. And by the way, Haidar is asking if you’ve thought of his offer to finance your catering project.”
“Have I thought?” Cherie jumped up in elation. “Apart from Ayman, I haven’t thought of anything else. The moment you tell me you cleared things up with him, I’m hitting him with my proposal!”
After more nudges to tell Haidar, Cherie left Roxanne alone. In turmoil.
Cherie was right. It wasn’t all about Jalal and her promise to keep his secret. She was scared to upset the perfection, the balance. Haidar would be disappointed she hadn’t felt confident enough in their relationship to tell him. And after they’d agreed they’d never hide anything from each other again.
But she hadn’t been hiding a thing. She just forgot about everything when she was with him. The only time she’d remembered Jalal lately had been when she’d told him, as her friend, about her and Haidar. The conflict of interest hadn’t crossed her mind since Haidar’s proposal. The only time she’d thought of the kingship issue in the past two weeks had been with Haidar, discussing his prospects and plans.
But Cherie was right again about needing to tell Haidar the truth. And Jalal was wrong about Haidar. Beneath the bitterness and alienation, Haidar loved him, or he wouldn’t have been so hurt by his accusations. She should be the one to bring them back together, as she’d had an unwitting role in the formation of the fissure that had torn them apart. She’d summon her inner negotiator, go after Jalal—
The bell chime had her jumping.
God, her nerves were shot.
Which wasn’t strange, with so much at stake.
She rushed to the door, opened it, found Jalal standing there.
“Gebna sert’el ott! Speak of the cat!” she exclaimed, dragged him in and into a hug.
Jalal chuckled, hugged her back. “And he comes bounding. Konti b’tenteffi farweti ma’a meen—who were you plucking my fur with?”
“I wasn’t talking about you, just thinking of you, really.”
“I should hope so, since you texted me to come over.”
“But I…”
A key turned in the door. Cherie? She’d come back this soon?
Next second her skin almost pooled to the ground. Haidar.
Her heart stopped as she watched him walk in. One thing became clear at once. He wasn’t surprised to see Jalal. Which meant…
He was the one who’d arranged this. He must have texted Jalal from her phone when she’d been at his house a few hours ago.
He kept his eyes trained on Jalal. Her dazed gaze moved to Jalal, saw her same shock mixed with as powerful dismay, even if it had a different origin.
Silently, Haidar approached them as they stood frozen. He stopped feet away, bent slightly. A sharp smack jolted through her, had her heart stumbling like a horse on ice as her eyes searched out the sound’s origin. A dossier on her coffee table.
Haidar straightened, still looking at Jalal. “These are the analysis reports that Roxanne supplied you with, that you were building your campaign around. I thought it only fair to inform you that they no longer constitute an edge, since I have them, too, in case they were the resource you were banking on to get ahead in this race.”
Heartbeats blipped inside her chest, none pumping blood.
She didn’t have to examine the dossier to know. It contained what he’d said. He knew. About her arrangement with Jalal.
But…he didn’t seem angry. Or disappointed. He seemed…nothing. She could feel nothing from him. That opaque wall was up again. Was he hiding his disappointment or…or was this nothingness real?
And if it was…why? And how had he found out? When?
He’d brought up Jalal only yesterday, seemingly in passing, as if he knew nothing. But he couldn’t have uncovered all that information during that time. So had he already known when he’d mentioned him? Had he been out to see if she’d come clean, or…?
A suspicion too terrible to contemplate detonated inside her.
No. She wasn’t suspecting him again. She’d promised. Vowed.
But…God. He no longer seemed like the man she loved more than life. He was again the unknowable quantity, the inaccessible entity he’d been. The ice in his eyes was obliterating everything, leaving only stone-cold doubts and possibilities.
Could he have known about Jalal from the start? Investigated and put two and two together? He did have an uncanny deductive mind. It wasn’t only possible. It was probable.
It appeared to be the truth.
But if he’d known, why had he never broached the subject?
Because you wouldn’t have told him anything. Not as things stood between you at first.
So was that why he’d pursued her again? To get her to the point where she would talk? And supply him with better information than she’d given Jalal?
She had given him far more info than she had Jalal, thinking she’d been discussing Azmahar’s future with her fiancé, discussing his major worries and plans.
Had it all been to beat Jalal at the game, again?
His mother’s cold venom came back to her in a scalding rush of memory. Her pride in his long-term manipulative powers, which he’d inherited from her, the woman who’d plotted a region-smashing coup for over thirty years and almost pulled it off.
He’d once said he was her updated and improved version.
Would beating his brother again, for a throne no less, explain everything that had happened between them? Cold logic said that made more sense than what he’d professed. That his emotions had always been so powerful they’d survived the years of humiliation and alienation, that he loved her now above everything, as she loved him.
She had been wondering if it was possible for anyone to have all that, to be so happy. Had she been right to wonder, because no one could? Because none of it had been real?
Her world teetered on the verge of collapse.
Then he looked at her, his eyes empty. And it did.
* * *
Haidar looked at Roxanne and knew. Hearts did break.
She’d wept in his arms with pleasure, pledged love and allegiance. And she’d again hidden something of major importance from him. She hadn’t trusted him. She hadn’t put him first.
She never would.
He now faced the truth at last. What he’d been trying to run from all his life. His mother had been right. No one would ever love him. He inspired nothing but deficient, distorted emotions in those he loved. The proof was his mother’s love itself. That monstrously manipulative, obsessively possessive emotion.
But he’d also been right about himself. He hadn’t and wouldn’t change. He couldn’t live with having less than all of her.
That left him with none.
He stood facing the two people who had almost full monopoly of his emotions, formed the major part of his being. They’d again found it right to exclude him, to alienate him, to shut him out. All he could do now was relinquish hope. Accept that no matter what, he’d be forever alone.
“That’s why you went after Roxanne this time?”
The dreadful growl yanked him out of his numbness.
He blinked, found Jalal in his face, his expression demonic.
“And to think I was agonizing over how to mend the rift between us, over what I accused you of, thinking I was wrong the more I thought about it. I was only wrong in imagining the depth of your depravity. I don’t know how I never saw you for the monster you really are all our lives, but you deserve to be alone for the rest of yours. And although I didn’t really want to be king, I’ll now do anything to take that throne, to stop you from taking it.”
Haidar barely registered his twin’s abuse, let alone understood it. He saw nothing but the betrayal on Roxanne’s face, felt nothing but the agony blasting off her.
But…why would she be the one feeling betrayed, agonized?
Because she was? By what? His choosing to save himself pain by giving up and walking away as she’d once done?
Suddenly, the enormity of his mistake crashed on him.
He’d been wrong.
If she chose to exclude him, he shouldn’t consider it mistrust, or a deficiency of love. She had a right to help Jalal if she believed he’d make a better king. Even if she didn’t, he was her friend, and she had every right to help him, do anything she chose to, his opinion or consent, or even knowledge, not required. And it stood independent from her relationship with him. It didn’t affect her love for him, that she maintained parts of herself he had no access to.