Just three days after the news of the old Sheikh’s death, the day of Kazra’s coronation arrived. The ceremony was set to screen live on every station in Al Barait, all regular programming halted. Everyone was out of work, able to attend or else watch at home, basking in the glory of a new era.

Tiffany remained at home, curled up on her couch, sipping tea, watching the hubbub of the early hours of the coronation. Religious figures in traditional garb marched back and forth, speaking closely with one another, awaiting the ceremony. Half the city seemed to huddle outside the palace gates, waving when the camera passed over them.

The camera showed Kazra exactly once, about an hour before his official crowning. The sight of him sent a shiver down Tiffany’s spine. Shocked at how miserable he still made her, she lifted the remote and turned off the television. The silence around her was deafening. Almost immediately, her phone began to ring— it was her father calling. Knowing he was at the coronation, Tiffany allowed it to go to voicemail. She could hear about it later. It wasn’t a matter of life or death. Not now.

Realizing that an entire day was stretched before her, she hopped into her bedroom, grabbed her running clothes, and bounded down the steps and into the sunshine. The city streets were empty, with all the cars sweeping toward the royal palace. The area by the pier was completely still. The Ferris wheel had halted and the other rides were closed.

At the boardwalk, Tiffany began to run, lifting her knees as high as they would go. As she ran, her eyes burned and tears tracked their way down her cheeks: a reminder that, no matter how deep she shoved the Sheikh’s betrayal, it had affected her in ways she couldn’t comprehend. She was angry. She was upset.

More than anything, she wondered if she’d ever be able to trust anyone with her heart ever again.

After running flat out for a few minutes, Tiffany stopped, gasping, near the far rocky ledge. Gazing out over the water, she watched as gentle waves lapped easily against the cliffs. The water was a bright turquoise, and it was calling out to her.

Glancing around her, she noted she was the only one around for miles. Lifting her arms, she stripped herself bare, and draped her clothes on the rocks. She felt the wind whisk past her breasts, along her stomach.

As she stood, poised, ready to dive, at the top of the rocky ledge, she eased her hands down over her body. Frowning slightly, she glanced at herself, noting that a small bit of fat had begun to creep up along her stomach. Pressing it with a finger, she realized the “fat” was rather hard, as if she were bloated. But she hadn’t eaten anything yet, and had barely scraped at her dinner the night before.

What was going on? Why did she feel like a blob?

Feeling suddenly frightened, Tiffany reached back and grabbed her clothes. She dressed quickly, and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Feeling suddenly uninspired, even with the crashing waves behind her, she chose to walk the rest of the way home. Her shoulders slumped forward and her heart hammered in her chest.

Suddenly, she felt certain of something. But she didn’t dare check up on it. If she took the test, she would know, for sure, that she was carrying a child. His child. Perhaps, if she left it alone; perhaps if she didn’t take any sort of test or pay attention to her symptoms; perhaps if she just carried on living, the bloat would go away. She would get her period. She wouldn’t feel so nauseous in the mornings. Everything would go back to normal. It couldn’t be true.

Didn’t the body always have a way of tricking you into thinking crazy, horrible things? For a full month, the previous year, she’d been sure she had lockjaw, and for as long as she remembered, every single time her period had been late, she had been one hundred percent sure that she was pregnant, even if she hadn’t had sex in months. She had always allowed her brain to run wild, even at the most innocuous of symptoms.

She couldn’t afford to do it this time. She had to stay strong.

But as the weeks passed, her symptoms grew. Suddenly, she found herself racing away from a morning meeting to throw up. She found herself avoiding some foods and opting for greasy things she’d never normally choose, or nothing at all. For a moment, she attributed the weight gain to the greasy foods. But as her stomach stretched into her favorite “fat pants,” she knew she needed to do something.

She couldn’t ignore it forever.

Zarina took the day off work to go to the doctor with Tiffany, clinging to her hand and trying her best to make jokes. When Tiffany couldn’t give her anything more than a small smirk, Zarina sighed, bringing her hand to Tiffany’s cheek.

“It’s going to be all right,” she whispered. The streets were racing beside them as the train bolted into the center of the city. “Really.”

“How do you know?” Tiffany said, her eyes glittering with fear. “I mean, of all the things that could have gone wrong…”

“You don’t know if you’re pregnant yet,” Zarina said, saying the word for the first time. Pregnant. “I wouldn’t give this theory any more power than it deserves. Not yet.”

“I always take my pill,” Tiffany whispered, leaning her head against Zarina’s bony shoulder. “Always at the same time. At work. At noon.”

“And there’s definitely no way you forgot to do that?” Zarina said. “During that week? When the Sheikh was sending you all those…”

“The presents,” Tiffany said, remembering. Had she really been so careless? Caught up with being “cared for,” for the first time in her life, had she really neglected her body in such a way? She began to stutter, searching for the right response. “I just—I don’t—”

“Shh,” Zarina murmured. “Just don’t think about it yet.”

But things went from bad to worse once they got to the doctor. After sitting in the waiting room for about ten minutes—each of them ticking by far too quickly—Tiffany found herself seated in front of her bespectacled male doctor, Doctor Gupta, who informed her, in no uncertain terms:

“Yes, Miss Ashworth. You’re pregnant. Congratulations.”

Tiffany’s lips parted in shock. She felt as if she had been slapped. Staring at the ground, her brain raced with the truth she could no longer deny.

She was having his baby.

Dr. Gupta prescribed her a list of vitamins and minerals and rules. His words were comfortable and reassuring, easing her into the reality that she would soon be entering the world of motherhood.

At various points during the talk, Tiffany wanted to blurt out that this was, in fact, not just any baby, but a royal baby. This was Sheikh Kazra’s first child! This baby would one day rule the country! And as such, he or she deserved the best of the vitamins and minerals. They deserved the best of everything.

But she held it in, pressing her lips together. She found herself thanking him quietly, and left the clinic clinging to a pamphlet. She met Zarina out in the waiting room, feeling tears running down her cheeks. Zarina didn’t have to ask, the answer was written all over her face.

On the train home, the two friends sat in silence. Zarina squeezed her hand, reminding her that even if the Sheikh wasn’t around, she was. And she would be there every step of the way.

In her first act, Zarina led them toward the tiny corner store, on the path from the train station to the apartment, and she purchased four different types of ice cream. She wrapped the small tubs in her arms and then scurried back toward Tiffany’s apartment. Inside, she placed them on the kitchen countertop with a flourish.

“If this is going to be a royal baby, then he or she needs royal options,” Zarina said, her eyes wide. “Remember all those days you said no to ice cream because you wanted to watch your figure?”

“Those days are gone, aren’t they?” Tiffany said with a heavy sigh. “Gone and forgotten. I’m about to turn into a blob.”

“Not a blob,” Zarina corrected her. She brought the top off the chocolate mint flavor and stuck a spoon into the top, shrugging her shoulders. “Why not enjoy this, while you can?”

Tiffany took a tentative step toward the ice cream. After a pause, she pushed the spoon deeper into the pot and brought it into the air, inhaling it in a single mouthful. Immediately, she felt the tension in her shoulders decrease.

She chuckled slightly; shocked at the way a simple gesture from a friend could brighten her world. As she rolled her eyes, she took another bite, giggling. “This is delicious.”

“I know!” Zarina laughed. She took a fresh spoon and opened another flavor, lemon meringue. She ate heartily and the tension in the room began to decrease.

As they ate, licking their spoons luxuriously, Tiffany glanced around her apartment. She imagined how it would look in a few months. The baby’s seat, which would be positioned near the window for morning feedings. She imagined her entire side cabinet, filled with baby food. She imagined her and her baby playing on the floor, amazed at the magic they could create together.

The only thing that was missing was the child’s father.

“I have to tell him,” Tiffany blurted out. She held a spoonful of ice cream aloft, near her mouth. “Kazra. He can’t just not know about his child.”

Zarina nodded, considering her words. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Tiffany sighed. “If only I hadn’t promised myself that I was never going to see him again.”

“You’re a strong girl. A strong woman,” Zarina said, blinking several times. It was clear she was searching for the right words. The words that wouldn’t hurt. “You can tell him, but you don’t owe him anything else. You don’t owe him your love, just because you’re carrying his child.”

Tiffany felt her bottom lip creep out. After a long pause, she said, “I just never imagined my life this way.”

“Nobody ever does,” Zarina returned.

It was easy, then, as she stood in the kitchen, eating ice cream. It was easy to imagine how her father and mother had ever gotten together, and then gotten divorced. Life just kind of happened to you, rolled you along from place to place. It didn’t ask what was convenient.

Zarina slept over again that night, making sure that Tiffany was comfortable, and sliding a DVD into the player. It hadn’t been used in months, as Tiffany was normally so stressed about work, or pouring over spreadsheets, or thinking about the next steps in her career to watch movies. Now, with something far more pressing at her doorstep, she just wanted to forget about the world for a bit.

They fell asleep side-by-side like childhood best friends, holding hands tightly. And Tiffany knew, in those last moments before drifting off to sleep, that she would never be alone. No matter what Kazra said.