Omar spent a restless evening in his penthouse after Marian’s outburst. His throat was tight, and he couldn’t get a full breath of air, no matter how deeply he breathed. His game plan was to give her space and go over to her hotel after dinner.

But around eight p.m., he got the news from Annabelle—Marian had flown home.

The revelation crushed him, made him both dizzy and exhausted at the same time. He reached for his phone to call her, but again it clicked straight to voicemail. Of course it would—she was hundreds of miles up in the air. He didn’t leave a message, choosing instead to pace his living room while he concocted a plan.

What now? He certainly couldn’t leave things in the state they were now. If only to get his side heard, to let Marian know the truth, to have her not hate him. But if things really went his way, he’d have a chance to tell her how he felt. That she was more than just a special woman—she was the only woman he’d ever felt tempted to try anything with. Since before Anahita even.

One thing he would do now. He hurried into his office, finding the familiar book of love letters scattered across his desk. He reread them occasionally and had done so more often during Marian’s stay. He’d turned to them as a guide, but they’d led him into a thicket. He had to get rid of them.

It was time to end the chapter.

He settled into his desk chair, spreading the letters out one last time, just as he’d done so many times over the past two years. He studied each one carefully, appreciating for the last time the curls of her Farsi, the angles of her English, the poetic way she had of writing to him, even while laid up in bed during his work days. The letters served as a sort of journal of their quickly arcing relationship, one that started as strangers but ended as heartfelt lovers.

But that story was over. It had been over for a long time. And he could not deny his emotions, especially his feelings for Marian. Not for Anahita, not for anyone else. It was simply impossible.

Omar read each letter for the last time, smiling at her musings, laughing at some of her observations about his brothers or the hospital staff. And when he’d combed through everything, he scooped them all into a pile and carried them into the living room.

He pressed the electric starter for the gas fireplace, watching as the controlled fire leapt to life. And then, one by one, he tossed the letters into the hungry orange flames, watching as each one was swallowed up into a black abyss in the heart of the flame. He fed the fire until he had no more to feed it, and then he sat for a long time watching the paper disintegrate into ash.

It was almost eleven p.m. when he snapped out of it, and he immediately called his father.

His father’s groggy voice answered. “Hello?”

“Sorry for the late call,” Omar said, feeling suddenly breathless. “But I have to go to America.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “For what?”

“Marian.”

His father sighed. “What?”

“Will you support my decision?” His throat tightened. He’d go whether or not he had his father’s blessing, but it would be nice to have it. “I’ve fallen in love with her. I want to be with her. And she left the country thinking I’d used her. I have to go make it right.”

There was a soft chuckle from his father. “You boys never cease to amaze me.”

Omar relaxed a little. “This is just something that I have to do.”

“I’m happy to see that you’ve healed,” his father said. “Go to her. We’ll make sure everything is covered at the office.”

Omar hung up the phone, his entire body buoyant with excitement. This just didn’t feel necessary, this felt more right than anything he’d ever done. He texted Annabelle to see if she was still up, and she called almost immediately.

“Is everything okay?” Her voice sounded strained.

“It will be,” Omar said. “I need your help. I want to fly to New York to surprise Marian, but I need some information first.”

Annabelle hummed appreciatively. “Do I smell a grand gesture in the works?”

“Not as good as being a border detainee, but we can’t all work at Imaad’s level,” Omar cracked. “We parted on bad—well, horrible—terms. I have to go make it right. And I don’t think I can survive without her, honestly.”

Annabelle cackled. “Oh, God. Like I didn’t see this coming from a mile away.”

Omar grinned despite the anxiety gnawing him alive. So many things had yet to fall into place. Every second, his plan coalesced more inside his head.

“This has to be a surprise. But I need her address and contact information for someone who can help me over there.”

“The first one is easy. And the second is…” Annabelle paused, and then squealed. “I know who it is! Layla! One of her closest friends in NYC. I can send you her information as soon as we hang up.”

“Great.” Relief flooded him, and a to-do list began materializing in his head. “And Annabelle, I just want you to know, I didn’t sell her out, or throw her under the bus, or use her for anything.” He swallowed hard. “I’m just crazy about her.”

“Awww, Omar.” Annabelle tutted. “Pack your shit and go find her!”

When he hung up the phone, he felt energized and ready to tackle everything. He’d arrange his departure on the family jet for first thing in the morning, meaning he’d get to NYC sometime in the morning their time. And hopefully along the way, he’d be able to solidify the final details with Layla about the surprise plan percolating in his head.

Glancing one last time at the glowing embers in the fireplace, he realized that small gesture had freed him in a way he hadn’t counted on.

Freed him up for an entirely new future with Marian.