The Sheikh's Stolen Bride-To-Be(34)

And it broke my heart.



It only took me a couple minutes to gather my things. I debated leaving  the dress Jalaal had bought me the day before, but I figured he wouldn't  have a use for it anyway. That, and part of me felt like without a  physical reminder of this weekend, I'd talk myself out of believing it  had been real.



Half an hour later, I was back in my old hotel room at Caesar's Palace.



The fantasy was officially over.









I thought about Jalaal the whole flight home. It wasn't a long flight,  but it still made for some pretty significant thinking time. I couldn't  help but wonder what things would be like if I were still with him. We'd  probably be in first class. Maybe he'd even have his own plane. We'd be  sipping champagne and holding hands, and there wouldn't be any kids  kicking relentlessly at the backs of our seats.



It seemed pointless to follow that thought process, but I did. I  couldn't stop it. I kept wondering if he'd found me gone yet. He must  have. Did he care?



The longer I spent away from him, the more I tried to convince myself he  didn't. By the time I reached my apartment building, with its peeling  facade and grimy call-board, I was having a full-blown fight with  myself.



I kept wondering if I should have stayed in Vegas a little longer. After  tasting the finest the world had to offer, my life as I knew it felt a  little stale. I knew I wouldn't always feel this way. The contrast was  only so stark now because it was still so fresh.         

     



 



Yet, for now, part of me felt like I'd cheated myself out of a good time  based on guilt. Not even just a good time-the best time. A  once-in-a-lifetime kind of happening that I was sure lots of women would  have killed for.



But then I reminded myself that Jalaal probably had a weekend like that  every weekend, just with a different woman. Las Vegas was a revolving  door of fresh company. We had both gotten what we'd wanted out of our  time together. It was pointless to keep thinking about it.



Except I still wanted more. Of him-only him. Not having to worry about  money was nice. The luxury was fun. But really, it was Jalaal that I was  missing.



I lugged my suitcase up to my apartment, wishing Sam's smiling face  would be there to greet me. He always made me feel better. He didn't  even have to try. Some days it felt like he just instinctively knew when  something was on my mind and exactly what I needed to make me feel  better.



I wondered what Sam would do if he were home now. He'd probably insist  that I go right to bed. He hated bedtime, but he knew how much I loved  it. He still didn't understand why I didn't need a story read to me  before bed, but since he couldn't read yet, he let it be.



I missed Sam, so much. I missed my dad too. They were coming home on  Tuesday, which wasn't too far away. I would probably be too busy at work  to miss them too much. Maybe if I tried really hard, I could just sleep  until I had to go to work tomorrow afternoon.



I pretended Sam was there with me, telling me to take care of myself. I  was too tired to think of doing anything other than rolling into bed, so  I left my suitcase by my bedroom door and crawled under the sheets.  They smelled like home.



It shouldn't have been so disappointing.