The next morning, I apologized by having breakfast delivered to Lacie’s room, then going there myself to apologize in person. She was as understanding as could be expected, especially since I could only offer her a weak promise that I’d explain everything later.

I was shocked, however, when she then stomped her foot at the floor and raised her voice at me. “Do you mean to tell me that you’re not going to tell me every single thing about you, after I just did that for you?”

It was only as I gaped at her, that I saw the corner of her mouth twitching.

“You…”

She giggled. “I totally got you.”

I assumed a noble expression, turning my head away. “I suppose you aren’t interested in our day trip, then.”

“What—no!”

“I mean, we were going to go to the beach, but if you’re too angry at me…”

“Rashid!”

Finally, turning back to face her, I let the grin come onto my face.

“Okay, okay. You have thirty minutes to get ready. Let me know if you need anything.”

And then I turned to leave, not quite so fast that I didn’t catch her little excited whoop behind me.

The day went better than I could’ve dreamed of. Lacie was enchanted with everything—from the white sand beach I took her to that was reserved only for the royal family, to the sweet, traditional treats of Zayed-Kharan that I had delivered to our private cabana. I even got her to paddle in the ocean with me, and her nervous apprehension was made worth it when we spotted a pod of dolphins.

That night, I gave her a chaste kiss goodnight, turning away and leaving immediately afterwards. It was only once I was halfway down the darkened hall that I left myself catch my breath.

I had done the right thing, leaving like that. I couldn’t kiss Lacie on the lips, not yet. I couldn’t quite let myself give in to the growing passion within me, which had only grown as I spent more time with her. Although I was developing feelings for her, I was unsure if she felt the same.

The rest of the week was more of the same: day trip after day trip, days and nights talked and laughed through. We hit up every tourist destination I knew of—old and new, popular and off the beaten track. I showed her the tallest mall in the world and bought her an entire wardrobe-full of new clothes; we adventured through the ruins of my ancestors as I gave her mini-history lessons on my homeland.

As we sat on our camels and prepared to journey deep into the desert, I reflected on all of our adventures and, most of all, Lacie. How, through fancy dinners and sandstorms alike, she’d stayed the same appreciative, pleasant joy to be around.

Lacie broke me out of my reverie. “What? Worried I’ll out-camel you?”

“Certainly not. This isn’t my first camel rodeo, but it is yours!”

I urged my camel into a jog, and Lacie followed close behind. It wasn’t long, however, before we tired of the chase, so we agreed on a truce and let our camels resume their normal, lazy pace. As they trekked, we talked quietly, of our favorite movies and foods (I made a mental note that hers was mango). After a while, the sun had set and my camel’s braying fatigue became my own.

“Want to stop? We’re about half an hour from the hotel; we could have our picnic here,” I called to Lacie.

She agreed, so we got off our camels and set out our supplies. The red blanket my mother had woven did the trick as a nice blanket on the sand, while the plastic containers of chicken and rice she’d packed were delicious.

We sat there, Lacie and I, our sides touching, quietly eating our meals, while our camels stayed tied to the stick I’d shoved into the sand. Every once in a while, I’d look over, sure that the adorably awestruck look on Lacie’s upturned face would be gone, worn off. And yet, each time I looked over, she looked happier than the last time.

Finally, I asked her, “What do you see?”

Surprised, she glanced at me, her eyes still full of wonder.

She smiled. “Oh Rashid, it’s beautiful. I mean, look at it.” She took my hand and whispered in my ear, “That unbroken gold carpet of sand, the navy ocean of sky, the silver pinpricks of stars. It’s stunning.”

And, as she spoke in her soft, sweet voice, maybe it was her hand in mine, or maybe it was me straining my eyes with all my might, but, for a second, I saw it how she did. I truly appreciated the endless sandy vista before me, with its black-blue ceiling and white twinkles of stars. I saw, perhaps for the first time, just how beautiful it all was—this sight, this very moment.

The wind kissing our cheeks carried the scents of our feast and far-off flowers from somewhere. I absorbed the beauty we were right in the middle of—and, most of all, the most wonderful part—the extraordinary woman I was beside. She, who had somehow made me see it too, somehow let me experience it with her.

“Doesn’t it make you feel so grateful?” she whispered.

I nodded and turned to face her. “Yes. Yes it does.”

Now, I couldn’t stop myself. I took her chin in my hands and turned her face towards mine. Then, I pressed my lips to hers. In that second, nothing else existed but kissing her. Her lips were soft, giving, allowing mine to do what they pleased. My hands cupped her face, then ran down over her shoulders, down her arms, holding her sides.

A camel brayed and I jerked back. I looked at her, stricken.

“Lacie, I’m so sorry, I got so swept up in the moment…”

In the moonlight, she was luminous, angel-like.

“Don’t apologize.”

I was rendered speechless with her quiet confidence, her silent understanding. She turned her attention back to the sky and spoke to it.

“It’s nice, your dedication to your parents. Not many people back home would understand it. Most don’t even understand what I’ve been doing for my parents.”

Her words surprised me. “Really? What do people in the U.S. value, then?”

She shrugged and waved her hand dismissively.

“Themselves.” She returned her gaze to me with a sheepish half-smile. “Though, it’s not their fault, really; it’s how they were raised. Our culture and values can be hard to escape.”

After a few seconds of quiet, she shook her head.

“I shouldn’t have said that—that not many people back home would understand me sacrificing going to school for my parents. Really, it was only one person, mainly—or one person who came out and said it, I guess. She thought it was a stupid decision.”

“Oh?”

“Nadia. She was the woman in the video, the one who was laughing about me being…about me never having been with anyone.”

My gaze flicked to her, surprised. “That woman is your friend?”

She nodded. “Yeah…well, she and I have been friends since we were kids. She’s always been like that.”

The longer my gaze searched the profile of her face, the less it found.

“But why?”

Still, she avoided my gaze. “I…don’t know.” She sighed. “She just chose me to be her friend when we were young. She’s always been the outgoing one, the assertive one who threw the parties and was popular. She’s never been very kind to me, but I guess I always figured…”

The answer came to her as another angry sigh.

“I’m afraid, that’s why. Or, I was, anyway. Of ditching her and having no friends, having no one to talk to, having her shun me.”

I gave a nod of understanding, but she wasn’t finished yet.

“But I was wrong. What’s the worst is letting her keep treating me how she has.”

Her usually shy, quiet demeanor had changed into a bolder aura, and she continued.

“Earlier, in the plane, you were right; I was afraid. Ever since I was a kid I’ve hated being the center of attention, to the extent that I refused anything that involved public speaking—or even just standing in front of a crowd. And back there, I was freaking out, and yet, when you squeezed my hand and whispered in my ear—” her eyes locked on mine, “Everything was okay.”

After hearing her words, I felt some of my own bubbling up inside me. The truth that I’d kept locked away, of which it was time to reveal. I turned to her and took her hands.

“A few days ago, with the dress and my parents getting upset. I want to explain it to you, make you understand—that it wasn’t about you at all. It was about my sister.”

The more I spoke, the worse I felt. I almost wanted to tell her that I had to stop, that I couldn’t bear it. And yet, as the weight grew heavier, I knew it wouldn’t let up until I’d said it entirely.

“Aliya was her name. My darling younger sister. She was the kindest, most gentle girl I’ve ever known. We spent all our time together, the two of us, chasing each other when we were young, discussing everything under the sun when we were older. She died in a car accident the day before her 16^th birthday.

“My parents were devastated. That was when my father’s illness really set in; I think he just couldn’t take the stress of it all. They still haven’t gotten over the loss, and I think they may never get over it. That’s partly why I’m so determined to attain the crown. I don’t want to disappoint them; I’m not sure they could handle it.”

Lacie took my hand. “We won’t disappoint them.”

My nervous eyes found hers. “Are you sure?”

Her answer came bluntly. “No.”

I was so pleased with her quiet honesty that I wanted to kiss her again. Instead, I leaned onto my back. As I patted the blanket beside me, she lay down next to me. There, I put my arm around her, and we watched the stars and enjoyed a comfortable silence. It was perfect.

And yet, as she drifted off beside me, I couldn’t do the same myself. No, all of today—our chats, our kiss, our heart-to-heart—had only solidified the impression growing in my head.

This was perfectly right—and perfectly wrong.

Lacie was an even better woman than I could’ve hoped for—not only was she beautiful and accepting, but she was smart, soulful, caring, and funny. And yet, this didn’t reassure me that rushing into a wedding with her was the right thing, no. All it did was make me wish that we had more time.

We only had five more days together. Five more days to decide if we wanted to spend the rest of our lives with each other.