The room was splendid. Even among the many wonders of the palace, it still ranked among some of the loveliest rooms Kathy had ever seen. It was spacious, longer than it was wide, with the far wall almost entirely consumed by a beautiful arching window through which the blue light of the midday sky streamed. Kathy was fairly certain it opened onto a balcony, but at the moment she was preoccupied with the shining chandelier with its glowing flower shaped sconces, and the bed, which was wide enough for six people to lie down side-by-side.

Its embroidered comforter was a swirling landscape of gold that ended in the crisp white of the bedding peeking out below like the sea foam cresting a wave. The massive mahogany headboard filled the wall behind it, sculpted in precise geometric patterns. A backless couch sat at the end of the bed, and across from it, an elaborate vanity waited. Past that, nearer the window, were a table and two chairs perfect for an intimate breakfast. A final chaise lay just in the windows light, touched by the shimmering chiffon curtains. It was certainly the most luxurious room Kathy had ever stayed in. Khalila huffed in annoyance.

"Basira would give you the smallest room," she said, shaking her head. "And this decor looks like a hotel room. I will make her give you something better—"

"No, no, this is fine!" Kathy said quickly. "Please, I'll stay here."

"But she is trying to insult you!" Khalila insisted.

"Then she failed." Kathy laughed. "If you managed to find a room nicer than this, I'd probably faint, and then be too afraid to touch anything to actually make any use of it. This is perfect."

"She'll think you're simple," Khalila warned.

"I am simple," Kathy said with a shrug. "And I love this room. Also, I think if I don't lie down soon, I'm going to faint."

Khalila laughed a little, shaking her head.

"All right then," she said. "If you're sure. Get some rest, my friend. I'll see you soon."

She left, and Kathy, with immense relief, collapsed into the massive bed, which was the softest and most indulgent thing her body had ever come into contact with. She sighed with delight, her body finally unkinking after being crammed into that airplane seat so long, and fell asleep almost at once, which was all for the better. She didn’t want to be left alone with her thoughts.

* * *

She woke a few hours later to the growling of her own stomach. She'd skipped breakfast that morning and the night before she'd had had an overpriced airport salad for dinner when she landed in Riyadh, which she'd inhaled on her way to the hotel.

She fumbled for her phone and realized it was nearly seven there—almost dinner time, and she hadn't eaten all day. No wonder she felt like her stomach had been replaced by a black hole. She worried about the baby, her guilt like a gnawing insect. She shouldn't be skipping meals.

She sat up, bleary-eyed, her abaya twisted around her uncomfortably. She should have taken it off before she slept, but she had been too tired to bother. She was still straightening it out when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," she called, heart leaping with the sudden hope that it might be Tehar.

But it was Ihab again. She said something in Arabic, to which Kathy shrugged helplessly. She didn't speak a word of it.

"Food," Ihab tried again. "Food, now."

"Dinner?" Kathy guessed.

"Yes, dinner." She pronounced it strangely. Kathy assumed Ihab knew only a little more English than Kathy knew Arabic. Honestly, she'd been relieved that Shadaf and Khalila spoke it so easily.

Kathy got up and finished straightening out her clothes. The abaya didn't wrinkle, thank goodness, and at least underneath the all-encompassing garment she didn't need to worry about dressing nicely for dinner. She followed Ihab as she led her through the palace to the dining room.

Kathy was glad for the guidance. She would never have found it on her own. She'd struggle to find her own room again tonight, even though she was desperately trying to memorize the turns and landmarks of the grand palace.

The dining room wasn't so different from what she was used to. Shadaf was already there, sitting in the middle of the table. Basira was on his left, in-between him and Khalila. Two seats had been left open to his right. Ihab went to sit with Fairuz on the other side of the two empty seats.

Shadaf smiled when he saw her.

"Perfect timing," he said. "Here, you'll sit next to me. This is the place for honored guests."

"Thank you," Kathy said, sitting next to him.

"We're just waiting on Tehar," Shadaf replied.

Kathy settled in. The food had been served just as she arrived and was steaming attractively in the center of the table on silver serving dishes. Everything was heavily spiced and aromatic, and Kathy felt herself salivating at the inviting scent. But no one else at the table had touched anything, waiting patiently for Tehar. So, she folded her hands in her lap and resigned herself to waiting. She was starting to feel a little lightheaded.

Khalila and Shadaf chatted amicably in Arabic over Basira's head. Ihab and Fairuz talked amongst each other as well. Only Basira was silent, seeming to be staunchly ignoring Kathy's existence. Kathy, trapped by the language barrier, had no choice but to remain silent as well.

After about fifteen minutes, during which everyone but Basira grew increasingly restless, Shadaf straightened up and said something in Arabic.

"That's enough," he continued in English. "Tehar is clearly too busy to join us tonight and I'm not going to let this food go to waste. Let's eat. Sahtain!"

He reached for one of the silver dishes and started to put food on Kathy's plate. Basira reached out suddenly to stop him.

"Women do not eat until all the men have been served," she said, her voice low and tense. Shadaf stared back at her, at first surprised, then angry.

"She is our guest," Shadaf said slowly. "She eats first."

"Not in my house," Basira declared, voice rising with anger.

"Well, then allow me to remind you that this is not your house," Shadaf said, sharp with outrage. "Absent as my mother may be, this is her palace, not yours."

"It's fine!" Kathy said quickly, mortified at the thought of causing a fight between them. "I'll wait for Tehar."

"Kathy—" Shadaf started to protest.

"I don't mind," Kathy interrupted him immediately. "Everyone can start without me. Please."

Shadaf looked unhappy with the decision, but he nodded in acceptance. Basira returned to her silence. It was impossible to tell whether she felt this was a victory or a loss, her veil obscuring everything.

With the issue settled, Shadaf was served first and waited until Khalila, Basira, Fairuz and finally Ihab had been served before he started eating. Kathy sat in front of her empty plate and waited.

"I'm sure he'll show up soon," Shadaf reassured her. "He's probably just running late."

Kathy hoped he was right. But she was determined to wait however long it took. This was a challenge from Basira, and she was determined to prove herself. She could wait as long as it took.

An hour later, the family had finished their food and were just lingering over dessert, talking, and Tehar had still not arrived. Kathy still sat, silent, in front of her empty plate. The silence was only partly because she couldn't speak Arabic. She was also so woozy and lightheaded that it was becoming difficult to focus. Ihab and Fairuz excused themselves after a little while, then Khalila stood to help Shadaf back into his waiting wheelchair. He looked at Kathy in concern as he sat down into it.

"You know you can go ahead and eat, right?" he asked her. "Tehar isn't coming. Please, let me order you something fresh from the kitchen."

"No, I'm fine," Kathy said stiffly. Basira was still sitting on the other side of the table, ignoring her plate in favor of nursing a cup of coffee. "I'll wait for Tehar."

"You don't need to do that," Shadaf said with an exasperated sigh. "She isn't—"

"Honey," Khalila said gently, touching her husband's shoulder. They exchanged a brief, meaningful look, and Shadaf gave in with a sigh, wishing Kathy a good night and rolling away.

Kathy stayed where she was, staring down at her plate, her head throbbing with a painful hunger headache. She'd gone longer without food than this before, when a deadline was coming and she’d had to throw herself into her work. Of course, she hadn't been pregnant and severely jetlagged then. But still. She could do this. Basira sat in equal silence, each one pretending the other wasn't there. Silence sat heavy on the dining room, bearing down on Kathy's aching head.

"You know you are proving nothing," Basira said. Kathy was surprised the other woman had broken before her. "You might as well eat. This foolishness will not impress me."

"I'll wait for Tehar," Kathy replied flatly.

Basira banged a fist on the table, making the silverware clatter and Kathy jump.

"Why did you come here?" she asked sharply.

"I'm having your grandchild," Kathy replied obviously.

"That is no grandchild of mine," Basira scoffed. "Just an excuse my son thinks he can make to avoid his duty."

"He only did this to please you," Kathy pointed out. "He didn't want a relationship or children. He just wanted you to let him live his life."

"Oh, I'm sure getting a foreigner pregnant and embarrassing our entire family was a great sacrifice for him," Basira said sarcastically. "Do not make the mistake of thinking you know my son better than I do."

Kathy felt her face flush with mixed anger and embarrassment.

"You're right," she said. "I wish I knew him half as well as you do. I wish I knew anything about your culture or how to make this work. But I do know Tehar and I are having this baby. It's already done, so you might as well accept it and move on."

Basira laughed.

"Do you really think he will go through with this?" she asked. "After the shame you have already brought him with that video? Even if he allows you to have that child, it will never be accepted as a part of this family or made his heir. He will buy you a house somewhere out of the way and pay for you to stay there. You will never be anything but a burden to him and a threat to everything he cares about."

"You're wrong," Kathy snapped, though the words stung like stab wounds.

"Then where is he?" Basira asked, standing up so fast she spilled her coffee. "He has already abandoned you. Accept that."

She stormed out, leaving the dining room ringing with her condemnation. Kathy stared down at the table, trying to contain the anger and despair threatening to overwhelm her. She failed and felt it spill out in hot, angry tears, the only thing on her empty silver plate.

* * *

Eventually, she fell asleep or passed out. It was hard to say which. She woke, slumped over the table, when she felt a hand on her shoulder, gently urging her to her feet.

"No," she mumbled tiredly, unable to open her bleary eyes enough to tell who it was. "I'm waiting for Tehar."

"I know," said a familiar voice. "It's all right. I'm here now."

It was all the reassurance she needed. Half asleep, she let him guide her back up to her room and put her in bed. She was too out of it to even say good night before she was asleep again. But when she woke a few hours later, there was a slightly dried out sandwich waiting for her on her bedside table. She devoured it and fell asleep again without thinking too hard about where it had come from.

The next morning, Khalila woke her with breakfast. They ate together at the little table in Kathy's room. Khalila was a surprisingly bright, energetic woman. She reminded Kathy of Tessa in many ways and, by the end of breakfast, Kathy was certain they were going to be good friends.

"When did you give up and go to bed last night?" Khalila asked as Kathy devoured the last of the sweet breakfast buns she'd brought, loaded with raisins and cardamom. "I checked before I went to sleep and you were still in there."

"I don't know," Kathy answered honestly. "I passed out and someone brought me up here. I think it was Tehar."

"I didn't even know he'd come home," Khalila said, surprised. "If it was him, he must have left again before I woke this morning."

Kathy couldn't help the little crush of disappointment she felt at that. But Khalila was quick to reassure her.

"He'll be home soon, I'm certain," she said. "He's just trying to get all of this legal business out of the way so he can spend time with you."

Kathy hoped she was right.

She spent most of the day in the conservatory with Khalila and Shadaf. He spent most of his time there, as the air was supposedly good for his weak lungs. He was always either reading or scribbling in a journal.

"It's poetry," he told Kathy when she picked the journal up after he dropped it, surrendering to one of his frequent and abrupt naps. "They're not very good, I'm afraid."

"I'm sure they're great," Kathy said, handing it back to him. She couldn't read the Arabic script he wrote in. "I've never read a lot of poetry, though."

"Khalila is the one who convinced me to start writing," he told her, looking at the journal fondly. Khalila was out of the room at the moment, fetching tea. "Back when we were children. She loves poetry, and I wanted to impress her."

"It seems like you two are really good for each other," Kathy said, a little enviously but not unkindly.

"We weren't always." Shadaf frowned a little at the memory. "We've been betrothed since we were children. They wanted to secure it early, since I wasn't anticipated to live very long and it was an important alliance. Rather unfair to her, as you can imagine, being engaged to a dying man she barely knew, and almost ten years her senior. But her family brought her here often, I think on my father's request, for my sake. At the time, Tehar was the only friend I had close to my own age. But I loved her the minute I saw her and I wanted to win her over more than I'd ever wanted anything."

He paused for a moment, gazing into the distance as if remembering that day.

"I didn't have much practice at wanting things," he said, voice wistful. "I grew up knowing I was going to die, probably soon. Planning for the future, having ambitions, seemed rather pointless. But her… Anything was worth it for Khalila. We were very close all through our childhood. But then she got a little older and they started talking about the actual marriage. I guess she'd been too young to realize what they were planning before. She decided I'd tricked her. She hated her family for forcing it on her. She hated me for wanting it. She was determined to fight it to the bitter end."

"But you convinced her?" Kathy guessed. He shook his head.

"I gave her up," he said. "More than that, I pushed her away. I wish I could say it was a selfless action, that I wanted her to be free, that I didn't want to force her to do anything she didn't want to. But it was more than that. I was angry. I felt betrayed by her resistance. I thought she didn't want to be with me because of my illness. I knew I could never give her the family or the life she wanted, and that I'd die and leave her a young widow. I was tying her to a sinking ship by trying to be with her. But all those years that she was my friend, I thought she was choosing me, choosing to face that uncertain future with me. When she refused, it felt like she was confirming all the most terrible things I'd ever thought about myself. That I could never make a woman happy. That I could never be worthy of love at all. So, I told her I didn't want her, anyway."

"That must have been awful," Kathy said, frowning.

"It was," he confirmed. "But it worked out. We'd known each other long enough that, after a little time for both of us to calm down, she realized why I had reacted that way. And I realized why she had chafed so much at the thought of a destiny she hadn't chosen. After all, I was trapped by my own inescapable future the same way. So, we started again, not as friends this time, but as courting lovers, deciding slowly and of our own accord whether we wanted to live our lives together. And as it turned out, we did. She knows I won't be here forever. But we're happy to spend as much of our lives together as we're given."

"Now I know your poetry is beautiful," Kathy said with a smile. "There's no way it couldn't be."

"Are you flirting with me?" Shadaf teased. "What a scandal!"

"I guess you'll just have to fight Tehar for my hand," Kathy said with a laugh.

"And you'll fight Khalila for mine, I assume," Shadaf said with a sage nod. "Do you think I can convince Tehar to compete in a battle of wits?"

"What's all this?" Khalila asked, returning in the midst of their laughter.

"Just discussing how I plan to steal her from Tehar," Shadaf replied with a wink.

"I need to duel you apparently," Kathy added.

"I'll get the sabers," Khalila said without hesitation. "Do you want to do it in the garden beneath the jasmine blossoms or on the roof in the rain?"

Kathy just laughed harder, unable to answer.

Kathy spent a week that way, Shadaf and Khalila keeping her company. She barely saw Tehar during that time. She'd glimpse him on occasion, leaving a room just as she entered it. But he spent most of his time outside of the house, ostensibly working with the lawyers.

Every day that he continued to avoid her, Kathy felt the weight in her chest grow heavier. Even Shadaf and Khalila's reassurances were beginning to wear thin. Every night at dinner, she continued to refuse to eat, waiting for Tehar to arrive. She would stay at the table for at least an hour after everyone else had left before giving up and going to bed. It was a hollow gesture, more to prove her dedication to Basira than anything else.

Khalila saw to it that she ate extra at lunch and often left fruit or pastries in her room for when she finally gave up and went to bed so she wasn't going hungry, not really. But part of her did hope, every night, that this might be the night he finally came.

So, when are you coming home? Tessa texted her one night as she sat at the dining table, long after everyone else had left. You've been there a week now.

I don't know, Kathy wrote back. I still haven't talked to Tehar about what to do. He's barely spoken to me since he picked me up at the airport. I honestly don't know what's going to happen. And his mother hates me.

Maybe you should just give up, Tessa suggested. If he wants to be part of this decision, he can come to you. You've already gone above and beyond.

No, I can't do that, Kathy tried to explain. I'll wait for him. As long as it takes.

Why? Tessa asked. Are you in love with him?

The idea actually shocked Kathy for a moment. She shook her head, dismissing the feelings that bubbled up within her at her friend’s question.

That's not what this is about, she wrote back.

Then what is it about, Kathy?

Kathy wasn't sure she had an answer for that. She put her phone back in her pocket and stood up. She'd answer Tessa once she was upstairs in bed. Her back hurt from sitting in the dining chair for so long.

She stumbled back towards her room, her thoughts preoccupied, and soon realized she'd gotten turned around. The halls were dark and the house too large to be at all reasonable. She must have missed a turn. She cursed and doubled back, hoping she'd end up back somewhere she recognized.

As she squinted her way along through the dark hallways, the sound of voices caught her ear. She moved towards them curiously. There was a furious argument happening in a first-floor sitting room. She could hear a familiar voice, a woman's shouting in Arabic, occasionally answered in angry snaps by a male voice that, after a moment, she recognized as Tehar.

Kathy tiptoed closer, seeing the door to the sitting room open. Basira was standing in front of her son, gesturing angrily as she shouted. Tehar's arms were crossed over his chest, his replies impatient and dismissive. She could tell he was angry, but refusing to rise to Basira's bait.

Finally, he said something that even Kathy could tell was rudely sarcastic. Basira stared at him in shock for a moment, then slapped him across the face, hard. He stared at her, wide-eyed, as she turned and swept out of the room. She shoved the door open so abruptly that Kathy was pushed behind it. She passed by so close to Kathy that she could see the angry tears in the other woman's eyes, but Basira didn't see her.

Slowly, Tehar sat down on the coffee table, touching the red welt on his face where his mother had struck him. Kathy waited until Basira had disappeared down the hall before she stepped out from behind the door. Tehar looked up at the sound, and she saw a flash of shame on his face before he shut it down and looked away.

"What was all that about?" she asked.

"You," Tehar answered flatly.

"I figured." Kathy shrugged, took a deep breath, and sat down on the table next to him. She half expected him to get up and leave, but he stayed. "You okay?"

"It was only a slap," Tehar said. "I'll survive."

Kathy shrugged, letting it go.

"She's never hit me before," he continued. "I've never seen her hit anyone like that."

"I guess I really upset her," Kathy said, rueful. He shook his head.

"No, it isn't you," he said. "Not really. I've disappointed her. I thought doing well in business would be enough to please her, to excuse me from the duty of a wife and heirs. But I was wrong."

Kathy hadn't expected him to be so honest, and she was briefly relieved that he was, for once, not so closed off.

"So, you've been against marrying from the start?" she guessed. He nodded.

"I've seen my brother and my cousins and uncles married off for prestige or fortune," he said. "Many of them miserably so. Even Shadaf and Khalila. They may be happy now, but there was so much anger and bitterness there at first. I didn't want to be trapped like that."

"I know the feeling," Kathy said, recalling her parent's unhappy marriage.

"She wants me to throw you out," Tehar said, frowning at the shadows on the opposite wall rather than looking at her. "She says I'm a coward for not dealing with you by now. Maybe she's right."

"You have been avoiding me," Kathy agreed. "Listen, I don't care if you throw me out when we're done. I just want to talk about this. When I make the decision about what's going to happen to this baby, no matter what that decision is, I want to know that you're behind me."

She reached for his hand and saw his eyes rise to meet hers at last, full of conflicted pain.

"I just don't want to be alone in this," she said.

"You don't know how hard you make this for me, do you?" he asked, his voice strained. He reached for her slowly, like something was holding him back, and his fingertips just barely grazed her cheek. "The problem isn't that I want to leave you alone."

She felt her breath catch as his hand slipped into her hair, pulling her gently closer. She moved into his touch without thought or hesitation, and when his lips met hers, warm and demanding, she knew that was what she'd been waiting for all this time.

As she kissed him back, he held her tighter, devouring her with a desperate hunger. He must have been waiting as well. And longer than her. She was starting to understand why he'd pulled away. They'd both been fighting this, and losing the fight. For once, Kathy was happy to lose.

They separated to breathe, their foreheads touching as they both struggled to find their composure. Kathy was shivering, wanting to continue at the same time that she knew they could not.

"I'm not going to throw you out," Tehar said, surprising her. She opened her eyes to stare into his, shaken by the depth of feeling there. "I don't care what Basira says. You're welcome to stay here as long as you want. Until the baby is born, if you like."

"Really?" Kathy would have thought, with how hard he was fighting his desire for her, he would have wanted her gone as soon as possible. "I don't want to be a burden."

"I want you to stay," Tehar said honestly. "With everything that's happening with Mitchell, I worry you wouldn't be safe in Miami. It's your decision, but you have a home here as long as you want it."

"And what about this?" Kathy asked, indicating their current situation, currently inches from each other, their arms around one another. "What are we to each other? I don't know what to expect from you anymore. If it's just business, that's fine. I'll schedule meetings with you and we'll avoid each other. But if we're more than that…"

"Which do you want?" Tehar asked, staring into her eyes. "Do you know what you want?"

Kathy had to look away, unable to face that stare. Did she know what she wanted? Part of her was still dead-set on keeping this impartial, on returning to her career, on avoiding the trap of connection her father wanted to force her into. The other part of her just wanted Tehar and didn't care what else it took to be with him.

"That's all right," Tehar said as she fell silent, unable to answer. "I don't know either."

He lifted her face to his and gently pressed a kiss to her forehead. He lingered there, holding her for just a second longer, then pulled away. He left the room without looking back.

Kathy sat there for a while after he was gone, still turning the problem over in her mind, but she couldn't find a solution. She wanted him, but she needed her career just as badly. It was too big a part of her life and identity to just give up. Did she have it in her to give up him instead?

She went to bed without a proper answer, and the next morning she thought she might have dreamed the late night encounter, because once again Tehar was nowhere to be found. Has he made his decision then? she wondered.

She spent the day with Shadaf and Khalila, restless and frustrated though they did their best to improve her mood. It didn't help that she'd woken up nauseous again. The nausea had been off and on since her arrival. Strong smells, like nearly all of the food made there, tended to set her off. It was beyond aggravating, and she had a feeling it would only get worse.

That night at dinner she took no food, more out of habit than anything else, her thoughts on her predicament and her churning stomach. She almost didn't notice when everyone at the table suddenly stopped, looking up at the door. When she turned in that direction as well, she saw why.

Tehar cleared his throat, looking mildly embarrassed.

"Good to see you cousin," Shadaf said warmly, recovering before everyone else. "Come and sit down. We saved a seat for you."

Tehar smiled gratefully at his friend, then moved to take the seat beside Kathy.

"It's a relief to finally be able to serve you, honored guest," Shadaf said, heaping food onto Kathy's plate. Kathy forgot her stomach entirely, too elated suddenly to worry about such things. She thanked Shadaf, but it was hard to take her eyes off of Tehar, who smiled, a little sheepishly, as he prepared his own plate. Maybe he hadn't made his decision yet after all.