her’s face, the hard slant of his mouth. “I told you my parents don’t believe in arranged marriages. I certainly don’t. I don’t like Ben in any romantic sense.”
“Then why are we talking about him?”
“Because I was trying to be honest with you,” she blurted out. “About why I couldn’t come yesterday.”
“Do you feel guilty? About seeing him?”
“What? No, of course not. It was completely out of my control.”
“Nothing is completely out of your control, Laila.”
“You don’t understand. They were guests in our home. Of course I had to be there. And I wasn’t seeing him, Asher. He came to a family dinner. Haven’t you ever had your parents try to get you together with someone they thought would be a good match for you?”
“Only a couple dozen times or so.”
“Well, this is the exact same thing. I told Ben point-blank I only wanted to be friends, nothing else. What do you expect from me?”
“I don’t know. What do you expect from me?” He leaned, reaching for his discarded T-shirt.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you think it’s easy for me to hear about the type of guy your parents would approve of, knowing all along I could never match up? That there’s not a damn thing I could do, no degree I could get, no job I could have, no perfect speech I could make to them, nothing that would ever make it okay for me to see you?”
“What they would think about you isn’t important right now, Asher.” He blinked, taken aback by her shout. Her burst of fury flew out of her as quickly as it had come. She pressed her hand near his heart.
“I want to be with you. So much. That’s why I’m here,” she said.
His rocklike expression broke slightly at that.
“This is hard,” he said after a pause.
“I know. I told you it would be.” She studied the rugged, handsome angles and lines of his face. How had the image of it become so ingrained in her mind so quickly? She’d dreamed of it for the past several nights. Passionate dreams. Joyful dreams. It was almost like some elemental part of her recognized his face. Like some part of her rejoiced at a reunion of their souls. Which made no sense, of course.
But there you had it.
She forced her mind back to the practicality of the moment. Did she see remorse in his expression?
“Are you regretting it?” she asked, dreading his response. “Deciding to be together, for as long as we can?”
“No,” he replied emphatically, and she saw the blaze of truth in his eyes.
“Then let’s forget about it,” she said softly. “My mother’s attempts at setting me up are just an annoying part of my life I have to deal with. Ben doesn’t mean anything to me. I wanted to explain right away why I couldn’t come yesterday but was worried you’d make a bigger deal out of it than it was.”
He closed his eyes briefly, and this time she definitely sensed his remorse. “Which is exactly what I did. I’m sorry,” he said after a pause, sounding sincere. His face tightened in anger. “It’s just so frustrating, to think in this day and age that things like race or religion could actually keep us apart, that it actually matters when you compare it to this.”
“This?” Laila asked quietly, searching his profile.
“This . . .” He waved between them. “Feeling,” he finally said, staring out at the lake.
She felt tears prickle on the back of her eyelids. He’d said it, but he hadn’t said it easily. It had been hard for him. She guessed the Gaites-Granvilles didn’t speak of their deepest feelings easily. But he’d been breaking that rule with her, and not once.
Several times.
“I know. Trust me, Asher. I know,” she said softly, pressing her hand more tightly to his chest, feeling his strong, steady heartbeat. He met her stare. “In everyday life, I’ve convinced myself it’s not a big deal. I’m a third-generation American. In high school, I was on the volleyball team and in the French club and in chorus, and I played piano for concert band. I went to a huge, diversified high school. I had dozens of friends—white, black, Indian, Hispanic, Chinese, Arabic. I work as a waitress in a sports bar and restaurant, and I know just as much as, if not more than, any American girl my age about sports teams, the entertainment world, pop culture. For a lot of people, I’m just a typical American girl. But it’s like I straddle two worlds, Asher.” She sensed his attention fully on her. She wanted him to understand so badly. “At home, I speak a crazy mishmash of Darija and English, which would probably seem even more confusing to outsiders, since there’s so much French and Spanish in Darija. I fast during Ramadan, and I like my mother’s Arabic soap operas almost as much as she does. I crave both Mercury Burger sliders and Moroccan donuts. I love being invited over to my friend Jessica’s house at Christmas and seeing all the decorations and drinking eggnog. I know precisely what to say about my life at work or at school in front of my parents, or my aunts and uncles. I know what not to say. I’m good at managing it. So are Tahi and Zara, and dozens of other friends and family members I know. I’m good at it because I love both worlds.”
“But I don’t fit there. There’s a whole part of your life that I wouldn’t be accepted into.”
“There’s a whole part of your life that I wouldn’t fit into either. Can you imagine your parents’ reaction if I showed up on your arm at their house?”