The Sheikh’s Disobedient Bride(64)

“—and I’m done. Finished. I need something else. Something you can’t give.”



It was like a knife in her chest, plunging through her breastbone into her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get air, couldn’t get anything in or out of her chest. It felt like he was killing her, destroying her. Acid tears sprung to her eyes and her throat ached, as she took a step backward and then another. “You were the one that insisted we marry. You were the one that pushed. You—”



“I was impulsive. Wrong. The marriage will be annulled.”



“Annulled.”



“It will take some paperwork, maybe some money changing hands, but within a few weeks you will be single again.”



She reached for the ornate trunk in Tair’s room to steady herself, needing something to give her courage. Strength. “You can say that, but we made vows. Promises. Promises I fully intend to keep.”



“You’re not in America. This isn’t Hollywood,” he continued coldly, ruthlessly, “this doesn’t have a happy ending. This is life. Reality. I was wrong to think you could live here, be here. I was wrong to think you were the right woman for me. You’re too different. Too—” and he broke off, searching for the right word, “Difficult.”



Tally just looked at him, unable to find words or her voice.



“I don’t want everything to be a fight,” he continued mercilessly. “I have men to fight with. You don’t behave like a woman. Instead of letting me be the master, you’re always trying to take over, take charge and I’m tired of it. Bored. Better to end it now before things get complicated.” He nodded at her flat belly, knowing she’d just had her period, knowing she wasn’t pregnant and obviously not wanting to take another chance. “Pack whatever you need. Your cameras and memory cards will of course be returned to you.”



That afternoon they traveled in silence through the crowded streets, past small neighborhoods and walled estates, palm trees shocking green against whitewashed buildings and the cobalt blue sky.



Arriving at the private airport used exclusively by royalty and the wealthiest of the wealthy, Tair walked Tally from the limousine to the jet on the tarmac.



He moved to take her elbow to help her up the stairs but Tally shook him off. If he was sending her away he didn’t need to be so damn helpful.



He entered the jet with her, checked to make sure everything was okay before putting her small knapsack on the cream and red wool carpet.



Fighting tears, Tally stared at the carpet, thinking even her khaki knapsack looked forlorn.



“You’ll be home before you know it,” Tair said. “Soon this will just seem like a bad dream.”



She shook her head. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t make a single sound.



Tair leaned forward to kiss her goodbye but she stepped back, moving away. If he didn’t want her, he couldn’t kiss her, either.



“It just wasn’t mean to be,” he said.



“You don’t love me?” she asked, finally finding the words even though they were horrible to say.



He was silent and then the answer came. “No.”



Tally turned away so she wouldn’t have to watch him leave. But as the airplane door closed Tally felt as if her heart was being ripped apart.



He didn’t love her.



Four words, four little words but words with the power to cut. Crush. Break her.



Like he just did.



Tally couldn’t even cry, not then, not during the flight that went on and on. Not while the taxi took her from Boeing Field’s executive airport home. Not while she struggled to unlock the door of her apartment.



But once the door shut, once she turned on the lights and looked around the place she hadn’t been in nearly six months her control shattered.



He didn’t love her. He’d never loved her. It was just a bad mistake.



The first week she was back she didn’t think, couldn’t think, couldn’t even function. Tally spent more time in bed than out of it. More time with her face buried in her pillow crying her eyes out than functioning like a normal human being but she couldn’t function. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Could only cry as if her heart were breaking. And it was breaking. It was shattering into little pieces of nothing.



He was horrible, hateful. How could he have sent her home like this?



How could he care so little that he’d just toss her aside? Throw her away as though she were garbage. Refuse.



It’d been so long since she’d been rejected like this, so long since she’d felt so bad about herself.