A Secret Birthright(31)

Rose wouldn’t be distracted. “Emad and I have nothing like the same condition. I don’t have melodramatic tendencies and I’m not letting self-perpetuated worries stop me from taking whatever happiness I can now. We’re free grown-ups with nothing to stop us from having whatever we want together. Apart from your baffling reluctance, I can say the same about you and Fareed.”

Gwen exhaled dejectedly. “I’m not free.”

“Because you’re a single mother? And I can’t fathom your position because I’m not? So enlighten me, what are women in your situation supposed to do? Sacrifice your personal lives at the altar of your children’s upbringing?”

Gwen stared sightlessly at the mansion’s gardens. She wished with all her heart that she could share her burden with Rose, that everything wasn’t so complicated, so impossible.

Why had Fareed of all men turned out to be the one who awakened the woman in her? And so completely, so violently?

To add to her heartache, Rose added, “And anyway, don’t knock temporary. You of all people know that nothing, starting with life itself, is permanent. Think about that and make up your mind.”

She swallowed a lump at another impending and permanent loss. “My mind is made up, Rose.”

Before Rose could counterattack, Fareed’s rich baritone curled around Gwen’s sensitized nerves, filling her with regret for what would never be.

He was walking toward them, with Ryan in his arms. He’d said, “I have an announcement to make.”

Her heart pounded so fast that she felt the beats merging like the wings of the hummingbird Rose had compared her to.

Fareed stopped before them, so beautiful and vital that a fist of longing squeezed her heart, stilled it into its grip.

“I’ve done and redone every test there is. And the verdict is in. This magnificent boy is on his way to a full recovery. I expect he’ll walk in a few months’ time.”

Gwen’s hands shot to her lips, stifled her soundless cry.

She’d been monitoring Ryan’s every notch of improvement obsessively, and from her experience with neurological progress, she’d been hoping for the best. But to have Fareed spell out such concrete conviction, put a time frame on it, made it all real.

Ryan would walk!

She raced with Rose to Fareed to drown him in thanks, to pluck Ryan from his arms, then from each other’s to deluge him in kisses. Ryan thought this was a new game and threw himself from one set of arms to another, giggling his delight.

But as Emad joined them and dinner followed, Gwen’s euphoria drained gradually.

She’d known the day when Fareed would announce the completion of his role in Ryan’s care was fast-approaching. She couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome. There was no better outcome. For Ryan.

For her…

It was clear from everything Fareed said and did that he thought this day would mark the beginning of that temporary inferno Rose had urged her to hurtle into. She knew it would only herald the end. She’d thought she’d be ready for it. She wasn’t.

As their “family” evening continued, Fareed’s nearness only made it harder. She couldn’t stop herself from feasting on his presence like it was her last meal.

And he made it worse still by no longer tempering the desire in his eyes, by barely touching his food, too, showing her that the only thing he hungered for was her.

For the rest of the evening, as she escaped his unspoken intentions, she struggled to convince herself that walking away would be survivable.





Gwen was suffocating.

Tentacles were tightening around her throat, cutting off air and blood, holding her back. Her arms reached out, but the tentacles jerked her tighter, immobilized her. The shadow she was reaching for tumbled in macabre slow-motion down the abyss.…

“No!”

She heard the shout ring out even as she felt it tear out of her depths…and her eyes shot open.

She jerked up, her hands tearing at the nonexistent noose.

It had been another nightmare.

Knowing that didn’t help. She still gasped, trembled, feeling like the day of the accident all over again. Crushed, torn, strangled by panic and helplessness.

In the months since, night terrors had plagued whatever sleep she’d succumbed to. During the day, anxiety attacks had dismantled her psyche. It hadn’t helped that she knew there had been nothing she could have done.

She stumbled out of the bed. It was 2:00 a.m. She’d barely slept an hour. No use thinking she’d sleep again tonight. She was afraid to, anyway.