“You knew it would make your mother and me unhappy because you know it’s wrong,” her father said.
“No, Baba,” she said, reaching to take his hand. He looked at her, startled by her touch. She saw bewilderment and hurt in his dark eyes. “Asher and I are not wrong. We’re so right. He’s the most wonderful man. I wish you would get to know him—”
“No,” her father said, releasing her hand and deliberately placing it away from him. “I don’t accept any of this. I don’t understand to whom I speak. Where is my daughter? You know how much it’s going to hurt your mother, and yet you insist on seeing him? Ma’anashi Farhan, Laila.”
She flinched in pain. Her father—whom she adored and loved—had just told her how unhappy he was with what was happening, but it was the expression on his face that hurt her more than anything. He looked so sad, like he was losing the most important thing in the world to him.
“I’m going with Asher now, Baba. We need to talk, that’s all. There’s no need for you to get so—”
“No,” her father interrupted sternly. He pointed at Asher. “I told you once, years ago, that I’d allow you to go and talk with this man one last time. Never again.”
A shudder of emotion went through her when she saw the coldness in her father’s usually warm, shining eyes. Asher stepped forward and put his arm around her waist. He’d obviously noticed the effect of her father’s words on her. Baba looked down to where Asher touched her, anger and dawning helplessness stiffening his face.
“If you go with him now, Laila, then don’t come back,” her father said.
Icy shivers poured across her arms. She couldn’t believe this was happening.
That it had to happen.
And yet it felt so strangely inevitable, too. Because as much as she loved the man standing in front of her, his hurt eyes filling her vision, it was Asher who was her future. Her family.
“I know I’m making you unhappy. I’m sorry I disappoint you, Baba. More sorry than I can say. I hope in the future that can change. I want to continue to have a relationship with you and Mamma and my family. It won’t be me who prevents that. But I’m going to have to try to live without your acceptance for now, if you won’t accept Asher. If you won’t accept us.”
Her father didn’t reply, and she could tell by his expression and tight mouth he wouldn’t utter another word.
“Please tell Mamma I’ll call and speak to her, if she’ll speak to me. Would you please ask Tahi to bring my things back to Chicago with her?”
Saying it all scraped at her throat, but she couldn’t escape this truth. Her father didn’t respond. It was like he’d turned deaf to her voice. She took Asher’s hand in hers and urged him toward the parked car.
• • •
They rode in silence all the way until they reached the interstate. Even though neither of them spoke, they clasped hands tightly across the console. Laila came out of her trance of dazed misery when she realized Asher had taken I-96 west instead of I-94, which was how they normally would have traveled to Chicago.
“Why are we going this way?” she asked him.
He glanced over at her, his gaze running over her face. Abruptly, he pulled off onto the shoulder of the road. He shoved the gear into park and reached for her. They hugged tightly across the console. At his touch, she convulsed with emotion. He kissed the side of her head and neck passionately.
“You’re so brave. I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he muttered thickly as he kissed her repeatedly. “I’m so sorry, period. I’m sorry about what I said the other day. The last thing you are is spineless. You’re thoughtful and kind, and you care about the people in your life so much. You show strength and restraint every minute of your life. You were right. I’m the one who is single-minded and selfish.”
“You’re not, Asher. I was so wrong to say that too. I know how hard you try to love your parents. I had no right to criticize you. I’m not the one who had taken the brunt of a lifetime of disapproval from them. I realize you must feel like you have to stand up to them or be bulldozed into submission. You don’t handle them like I would, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” She turned her face, seeking him blindly. Their lips brushed together, and then clung. “Please forgive me,” she whispered fervently a moment later.
“There’s nothing to forgive. I love you for who you are. I get that we’re different. I get that we’re not always going to agree on the right way to handle family.”
A spasm of emotion tightened her face at the mention of family. He cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her gently.
“It was so courageous of you, baby. Saying what you did. Doing what you did. I know you must have been dying inside. I know how much you adore your father. I’m so sorry. I wish like hell we could be together without hurting anyone.”
She swallowed back the surge of emotion. “I wish that too. But it’s not the hand we were dealt, is it?”
He pressed his forehead to hers and shook it slowly. After a moment, she realized he’d pulled back several inches and was studying her closely.
“What?” she whispered.
“Did you really mean those things that you said to your father?” he asked her gruffly. “That I was your other half? And that you weren’t willing to give me up again?”
She reached, digging her fingers into his thick, soft hair.
“I meant it with every fiber of my being.”