Layla came into work on Monday feeling simultaneously drained and refreshed. Her day-trip to a nearby city and antiquities museum had been a pleasant distraction from the shit show of her family planning, which had always been very simple: don’t start a family. She’d cried enough tears in her apartment to fill a small lake. The shock and confusion had ebbed into a babbling brook of quiet despair.

She was going to be a mother, the only thing she’d never envisioned for herself.

The weekend featured all the stages of grief—denial, outrage, and eventual acceptance. Marian counseled her as well as she could from across the world as she and Omar packed their bags to come home from their honeymoon. She murmured sweet, helpful things while Layla cried. She hadn’t even judged her when she admitted that Zahir was the father of her baby. Marian didn’t seem surprised, or maybe she’d just expertly squashed her incredulity. Either way, she swore her friend to secrecy.

Because there was one thing she was certain of: Zahir wouldn’t know.

Here begins the circus side show. She strolled into the hallway, dreading peeking into Zahir’s office to say good morning. But she had to do it—normalcy was the goal. Along with platonic gestures and never fantasizing about her boss ever again. Especially while she carried his tiny collection of cells inside her belly.

The fucking condom broke. The thought burst through her head like fireworks with startling regularity, interrupting mundane tasks like brushing her teeth or heating up food in the microwave. It just didn’t seem fair. There were mothers all over the world who wanted kids and couldn’t have them. And here she was, careful enough to be protected, never wanting a child, and she gets the unlucky broken condom.

“Good morning.” She forced a quick grin as she poked her head into Zahir’s office. He was studying his computer as he was most mornings. His face lit up when he saw her.

“Morning.” He offered a knee-buckling smile, his mouth hanging open like he might add more. She rushed away before she had to look at him any longer.

Inside the quiet of her own office, she took a long, deep breath, trying to roll some of the tension out of her shoulders. Just get through the day. It had to be easier going forward. And once she started to show, she could start working from home. She had plenty of time to begin that transition to remote work. There would be a way to make it work.

Zahir can’t know.

As she settled into place behind her desk, thoughts roiled thick and chunky inside her head. She’d combed through every possible scenario of how this might turn out, since seeing the positive result. And the one thing that didn’t make sense to her was telling Zahir.

He probably wanted to be a father, maybe someday, with the right wife cherry-picked for him by his family. The way Annabelle had been chosen for Imaad, the way Omar had married his first wife. After seeing all the traditional aspects of Omar and Marian’s wedding, there was no doubt in Layla’s mind that a surprise baby out of wedlock would not be well received by the Almasi clan. In fact, it might even ruin Zahir’s professional life.

All of Marian and Annabelle’s stories about Parsian culture and traditions haunted Layla every time she considered what it might be like to tell Zahir she was pregnant. She remembered the way Zahir had slipped out of her room that first night by a certain hour, to avoid the speculation. Well, now there was no speculating. He’d knocked someone up.

Confusion lashed at her, pushing her face into her hands. A quiet rap on her door made her bolt upright.

“Who is it?” She fumbled around at her desk, trying to make it look like she’d been working instead of moping.

“Zahir.” The doorknob turned and he pushed the door open, poking his head in. “May I?”

She nodded, clearing her throat. “Sure. What’s up?” She folded her fingers together on the desk top, made sure her midsection was firmly hidden behind the desk. Not like he could tell she was pregnant already. She couldn’t be more than five weeks along. But still. Just in case.

“Just wanted to see how your weekend was.” He leaned against the doorframe, impossibly casual and warm.

“Great.” She shrugged. Cried myself to sleep because I’m carrying your unexpected baby, is all. “I checked out the antiquities museum in Shahaar. Spent some time in the desert. It was nice.”

“Oh?” He lifted a brow. “Shahaar is one of my favorite places. I wish you had let me know. I could have taken you.”

She swallowed a bitter laugh. “Well, that would hardly be appropriate for a working relationship, Zahir. I see you at the office, and that’s it.”

He tutted, an uncomfortable pause emerging. “Right. Well, I actually wanted to mention something that takes you out of the office.”

Anxiety slithered through her. She had no energy left to confront this man. “What’s that?”

“There’s a dinner tonight.” He slid his hands into his pockets, looking rather pleased with himself. “Business dinner, rather. Strategy, check-ins, that sort of thing. Omar and Marian should be there, now that they’re back from their eternal honeymoon.”

Layla grinned but squashed it immediately. “Is it required?”

“Well, no…” Zahir’s gaze fell to the floor. “But it would be beneficial for you to attend. A good way to touch base with colleagues. Plus, the food is great.”

Work dinner wouldn’t be so bad. And with Marian there, she’d have reinforcements if needed. There was no good reason to say no—other than the fact that looking at Zahir’s face made her insides hurt. “Sure. Just let me know when and where.”

“Great.” Zahir smiled again, his gaze lingering on her face. The same warmth passed between them that had ensnared her the moment they started talking at Echo.

She forced a tight smile, ripping her gaze from his impeccably handsome jawline. “Okay then. See you later.”

Layla gritted her teeth as Zahir took the hint and excused himself, whooshing out a deep breath once her door clicked shut. This was hell. No, actually it was worse than hell.

Not only was she pregnant out of wedlock in the most traditional country she’d ever set foot in, the pregnancy brought up all sorts of questions she wasn’t ready to face. Did she even want it? Now that she was pregnant, having the baby seemed the only way. Considering the alternative just didn’t sit right with her. But doing this on her own? It would be one thing if she’d been in a committed relationship and they had an accident. But even that was unlikely. Layla didn’t let herself get into committed relationships. She liked to be the fun time, a fleeting comet of perfect conversation and amazing sex that never once fizzled into flagging attraction or awkward disappointments.

It was much easier that way.

Because that way, she never had to confront anything unsavory. No heartbreak, no letdowns, nothing other than strictly what she wanted. Why be in a relationship when she could be free? It had been her motto since finding out the hard way that getting rejected hurt big-time, and there was no way to prevent the other person from just deciding one day he no longer loved her.

It had happened right after college, when her boyfriend of six years just abandoned their apartment one day and never returned. She’d found out later he’d skipped town to go marry someone he’d met on a free dating service, a relationship that had fermented quietly right under her nose for at least a year. She’d thought she’d get the happily ever after, but instead she’d gotten burned.

No one else would get the chance to hurt her again. And if anything, throwing a baby into the mix only widened the doorway of vulnerability. If she told Zahir, he could shut them out or worse, make her a prisoner to his demands. No, it was better to handle this on her own. She’d be a single mother. Women did it every day, all around the world.

Once she banked a few more paychecks, she’d figure out where to deliver, and how to get out of her contract. Step by step. Things would come together.

She took a shaky breath, struggling to feel a sense of calm about it all, until a hiccup emerged and gut-wrenching sobs wracked her body.