Zafir gave a tight smile at the running joke. “That suggestion is looking less outlandish and more practical every day.” His mouth twisted on the words. He was not quite ready to face what could be inevitable.
Ra’id snorted, then sobered as he saw the gravity in Zafir’s expression. “You’re really considering it.”
“She’s nineteen. Young, educated traditionally, but she’s continuing her schooling, planning to be a doctor.”
“So she’s smart, but perhaps not as interested in playing politics as she is in helping all people,” Ra’id suggested.
“Exactly.” Not a bad match at all.
“Pretty?”
Zafir cut him a does-it-matter? look.
Ra’id only shrugged. “It helps.”
“I never did give you that herd of goats for taking my ugly sister off my hands,” Zafir drawled, making Ra’id’s mouth twitch with humor. Ra’id had begun drooling over Amineh before they’d left third form. If he could have, he would have married her before she’d finished school. Their father had been gone by then and it had been up to Zafir to insist his sister pass her A levels before she could marry.
She had, and not only had she been able to marry, but she’d also married for love. Zafir knew she believed he’d come to love Tariq’s mother, but it was not an emotion he’d ever aspired to. It had been his father’s weakness. The driver of actions that had been his undoing.
Love, for him, was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Another arranged marriage for the sake of peace was his lot.
“You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do to assist,” Ra’id said.
“Appreciated,” Zafir said, slapping his friend on the shoulder as he moved away. “I’ll let the children know.” It was an excuse to see Fern. They did their best to avoid each other during the day, which made him feel a heel, but what option did he have? He’d promised her he wouldn’t cost her her job.
“Promise them you’ll send Tariq to us for a few weeks. I’ll find a pocket in my schedule after my cousin’s wedding. It will soften the blow,” Ra’id said.
Fine for Tariq and the girls, but how would he soften the blow to himself?
* * *
Amineh was sitting in on Fern’s lesson today, lending her excellent art skills to sketches of “my favorite animal spotted in the oasis.” When Zafir arrived to say everyone would be leaving in the morning, her tiny class erupted into disorder. Amineh was most vocal of all.
“You know I can’t ignore these things,” Zafir told his sister testily.
Fern was afraid to look at him, certain she’d betray her distress. This was it. The end of her nights with strong arms around her, the scent of a man on her skin, his lips whispering praise and compliments into her soul. It wasn’t just the pleasure he gave her that she’d miss, but the illusion of closeness. She was sure he laughed with all the women in his bed, told them all they were pretty and tasted like honey and smelled like wildflowers, but this was her first experience with pillow talk and she loved it.
As he walked away, she couldn’t help a yearning look at his back, wishing life wasn’t so unfair—
He moved out of sight and her gaze came back to the group and Amineh’s alert, probing stare.