Tiffany had never truly thought through the mechanics of giving birth. She’d gone to all the pre-natal classes, read all the books, but couldn’t imagine her actual body doing, well, that.

With her legs in the stirrups, she inhaled and exhaled with the nurse beside her, clinging to the Sheikh’s hand. “You’re going to break my bones,” he said, joking with her. She countered his joke with a quavering smile.

Their baby boy was born after almost eight hours of labor. After taking him away to clean him, the nurse returned with the small, glowing baby wrapped in a blue blanket. The nurse’s eyes were directed at Kazra, first. He was ruler of the country, after all. But the Sheikh pointed at Tiffany, whispering, “She did all the work. Give him to her.”

Tiffany found herself holding her bright-eyed baby boy. He was impossibly small, peering up at her curiously. She felt shocked. Her lips parted, searching for the right words to say. Nothing came.

“He’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Kazra murmured. He leaned toward her and kissed her, reminding her that he was there. That they were alive, together. All three of them.

Feeling like she might go crazy with a strange mix of fear and wonder, Tiffany passed her baby to Kazra. Her heart burst as she watched him gaze down into his baby’s eyes.

Everything was different. But everything felt exactly and wonderfully right.

Later, the nurse placed the baby in a small bassinet at the side of Tiffany’s bed, and the three of them slept, with the Sheikh collapsed in a chair beside the bed. For hours, they slumbered, all exhausted in their own way.

When they awoke, the waiting room was a collection of their friends from the baby shower, who had brought the party to them. Zarina burst into the room first, her eyes alight with happiness. She reached for Tiffany and hugged her tightly, exclaiming, “You did it, girl! You’re the strongest person I know in this world.”

“I didn’t feel all that strong a few hours ago,” Tiffany laughed. She gazed down at her baby, watching as Zarina peered inside the bassinet. “But that doesn’t matter now.”

Zarina tapped her finger against the baby’s tiny ones. “Have you talked about a name yet?” She paused, then mouthed the name that Tiffany had had planned all along. Her grandfather’s name. “Jackson?”

Tiffany looked over at the Sheikh. He’d watched the exchange with amused eyes. “A western name for the next Sheikh?” he asked, laughing.

“What a perfect way to merge your families,” Zarina smiled.

With these words, Zarina reminded Tiffany of a horrible truth. Glancing toward the window that stretched between her bedroom and the outside world, she saw her father peering back at her. He waved, gazing at her sadly. The baby coming early meant that he would have to leave his position as Ambassador sooner than anticipated. But he didn’t seem to care about that right now. He swept his finger across his eyes, trying to hide his tears.

“I think Dad wants to come in,” Tiffany whispered. “Kazra, do you mind?”

But already, Kazra was walking toward the door. He opened it, gesturing for Mike to enter. The moment the men passed one another, Kazra pulled the older man against him in a firm embrace. Holding him close, he said, “You’re a grandpa.”

Tiffany watched as Zarina passed the swaddled baby to her father. Mike gazed into the tiny face, as if trying to memorize it. When Tiffany felt the silence would go on forever, he whispered, “I’m so glad I got to see him.”

Tiffany felt the tears course down her cheeks. In the silence that fell between them, she realized she couldn’t leave Kazra. Her life was here, in Al Barait; their life was here. Which meant only one thing. She’d have to say goodbye.

But Kazra stepped forward. He cleared his throat, saying, “Mike, I know you’ve sent in your resignation. I’ve just gotten word that your replacement is on his way. But…” He trailed off, gazing at the tears on Tiffany’s cheeks. “That doesn’t mean you need to leave.”

Mike still clung to the baby, staring up at the Sheikh. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you don’t need to rely on your visa. I’ll work it out. You can stay in the palace with me. Speaking of which, Tiff…” He trailed off, turning his attention to Tiffany. “I want you and our child to move to the palace with me. I never want to let you go. Not for another minute.”

Tiffany felt herself reaching for him, body and soul. The Sheikh wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. He inhaled and kissed her neck, her cheek, finally landing on her lips. They shared a passionate, soulful kiss, and Tiffany felt their tears mingling as their faces touched. As the kiss broke, they stared into one another’s eyes.

“I have not been able to say this before. But you are every bit as worthy to be Sheikh, just as your father before you,” Mike said, bowing his head to the Sheikh. “I would be honored to remain at the palace with you.”

In the silence that followed, their baby began to cry. It was his first cry, and it was soft and broken, as if he didn’t yet know how to complain about all the pain he felt now that he was in the world.

The baby was passed to his mother, who clung to him tightly as her best friend and her father stepped out so as to give the new family some privacy. In that moment, Tiffany and Kazra felt the future shift. Whatever they did, now, would be for their family.

For Tiffany, the first thoughts she would have every morning would be about Kazra and her baby, for the rest of her life. She felt full of love, in a way she couldn’t have imagined before. Happiness, far from her country. Happiness, where she’d built herself a new home.