The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(28)

“Yes, I… You haven’t gone through with it yet, have you?”

“No, I’m going to, but it’s tomorrow.”

“Oh. And our messages?”

“I’m sorry, I…I just didn’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay, my sweet girl.”

Her voice was so understanding, so heartbreakingly resigned, that I could have cried right then. I didn’t, though. No, the tears came a minute or so later, when Dad came on the line.

“Your mother won’t say it to you, Lacie, but I will. What you’re about to do is wrong, hands-down, wrong. It’s wrong for you, and it’s most certainly wrong for your mother and me. She’s gotten worse, you know.”

His words twisted a knife in my gut, but still, I couldn’t believe it.

“No. No, Dad, no, she…”

“She’s gotten worse, Lacie. She’d rather die than see you unhappy because of us. So, please, if you love us, don’t marry that man if you don’t love him. Come home.”

Now, the tears had come. They were streaming down my face, onto the receiver.

“Whatever you decide, we understand, honey. I just wanted you to know what was really happening over here.”

Dad’s voice was gentle, understanding, just as Mom’s had been, in a way that made my tears pour down more.

Just as I was about to respond, to gasp out how sorry I was, he gently said, “Goodbye, Lacie.”

And then, he had hung up and I was heaving with the words I still didn’t know, still couldn’t voice. Because I didn’t know—if this was the worst decision I’d ever made, or the first right one I’d chosen in a while. If I was dooming myself to a strange life of lonely regret or choosing one of exciting happiness and limitless potential.

Hanging on the door was my wedding dress, the beautiful lace, sequined gown I’d found after trying on what had seemed like hundreds of dresses with Rashid’s mother. Now, staring at it, remembering how the kind woman had gently asked me questions, then reassured me of my future with Rashid, I felt guilty.

Who was I to marry anyone, when I wasn’t even sure it was the right thing to do? It was worse than wrong—it was cruel to marry someone when I wasn’t sure of my heart.

The longer I stared at it, the more the dress called to me, as if in its intricate design was the answer to my dilemma.

Finally, I had no choice. I unzipped the delicate dress, careful to move the stubborn zipper slowly and not let it catch on any of the swirling tufts of fabric. Stepping into it was easy enough; it was zipping it back up that was difficult. I held my breath and yanked the zipper up. It hit the top with a jolt, sending me stumbling to the mirror.

There, still breathing deeply from the effort, I gazed at my reflection.

The woman in the mirror was beautiful. Her red-rimmed eyes were still streaming tears, but in a strange way, the tears matched the clear, sparkly jewels on the dress. The gown fit as if she’d been born in it, with every curve and line following those of her own body. And, this woman, this beautiful woman, was me. As I stared at her, she and I realized the same thing, simultaneously: I wasn’t ready for this.

A great trembling overtook my whole body and I raced out of there, my legs taking me to a destination even I didn’t know. The house was dark and I tripped, but didn’t fall. Only when my hand connected with the door at the end of the hallway did I know where I had been headed.





Chapter Twenty





Rashid




“Lacie.”

She was there, at my door, in her wedding dress. And yet, somehow I wasn’t surprised.

I let her in without a word and closed the door behind her. She took one look at me and the words spilled out.

“I’m sorry, but I had to come here and tell you. I can’t go through with tomorrow. My parents not only don’t approve, but the stress might actually be making my mom’s condition worse. Even if it weren’t for that, this doesn’t feel right. I like you, but I don’t love you. Not yet. I think I could, but there hasn’t been enough time—this has all gone so fast.”

I couldn’t form the words to reply yet, and stood there in stunned silence.

“I’m sorry,” she said miserably, although that didn’t make any difference.

And yet, I didn’t feel how I would’ve expected I’d feel. After these words, the words that meant the end of me, of my family, of everything that I’d worked so hard for my whole life, I felt relieved. I felt like I wanted to kiss her.

Instead, I tore my gaze away from her face, took her hand in mine, and squeezed it.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re right. This is exactly what I’ve been struggling with these past few days, too. Lacie, I like you, I really do—you’re everything I’d want in a partner; there just hasn’t been enough time. I don’t regret a second we’ve spent together. Not when they’ve been some of the happiest of my life.”

My hands were in hers, my gaze tracing the outlines of her face. When it settled on her lips, I closed my eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just didn’t—”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Not a thing in the world.”