The Sheikh's Accidental Bride (The Sheikh Wants A Wife 2) - Page 27

He would haunt her. For as long as she thought that he might have got married, Nadya knew that she couldn’t stay here. She felt the dread of what she had to do before the thought had even fully formed itself in her mind. She knew where the ceremony was to be held and, after her reconciliation with Jasmine yesterday, she knew her sister would let her borrow her car, no questions asked.

She had to go. She had to see for herself. There was no way around it. Just a drive by would do it... just enough to tell if preparations were underway and guests were arriving. She’d wear sunglasses. She’d be lost in the commotion. She’d find out, and then she’d be gone, forever.


FOURTEEN

Jasmine had agreed easily in the end. She wanted to know why, of course, but when Nadya insisted that she needed to borrow the car, but couldn’t express just why at the moment, Jasmine hadn’t pushed too hard.

They had a spare car that they kept just for such emergencies, it turned out. Nadya thought it was odd, but when she stopped for gas in Chappaqua, she noticed a tiny piece of tape on the back of the car remote. She had to squint to make it out, but if she looked hard enough, it looked like it said “Nadya”.

She didn’t try and dig into what that meant too much. Not with how much she already had on her mind. But it set her more at ease with the thought of asking her sister if she could stay with her for a while.

The day was overcast, with occasional scattered showers, and Nadya was glad she wasn’t driving the car that she owned back in Seattle. Its windshield wipers badly needed replacing, but she just hadn’t the time or the money to do it.

She’d seen the route she was taking from the air, and at the time it had felt like it was taking no time at all. But driving was an entirely different story. The drive in itself was fine, but the length of it made it difficult to escape her thoughts of Salman. There was no escaping into the world of fiction, this time – not if she wanted to avoid getting the most embarrassing ticket of her life.

The second day of heartbreak is the worst. The first is pain, pure and simple. Raw, aching agony. But it’s fresh. It’s just begun. Anything can be endured for a short time, and on the first day of heartbreak, you can convince yourself that you can survive. After all, you reason, it won’t be forever.

But the second day of heartbreak, you’ve got two days to look at, and you can see how much the pain hasn’t lessened. And if it’s real heartbreak, you can start to gather than it won’t be a short time. The second day is the worst day, because it takes away all hope that the pain will dull by the third.

Nadya cried while she drove. She wasn’t embarrassed. If anyone could see her, it didn’t matter. Their opinions on the matter weren’t important, and even if they thought it was unacceptable, then they had never felt what she was feeling. And if that was the case, how could they judge?

By the time she reached the area where the house was, she was aching from sitting in one position. She remembered the town it was outside of, but she hadn’t gotten the address. Most likely it didn’t really have an address. It was more a work of art than a home, and it seemed more likely to have a name than a street number.

While she was driving around, looking for anything that might look the slightest bit familiar, she began to think that driving all this way, only to be unable to find the house at all would be the worst possible thing that could happen on the trip. She’d have gone to the effort, she’d have missed her sister’s anniversary party that meant so much to her, and she would have learned nothing.

But then she saw a van, huge windows filled up to the brim with beautiful, artful flower arrangements, and she knew she was wrong. Not finding out was not the worst thing that could happen to her.

She followed the van down twisty, climbing roads that led

to a larger one. There, they joined more cars, and Nadya knew at once that she had found the wedding guests, and that she had found her answers. There was not a vehicle among those on that road, other than Nadya’s own, that cost under $100,000. Inside, she saw all beautiful people, with jewelry dripping from them, and carefully designed looks.

This was it. This was what she came for. They were there for the wedding. She could turn back now. But for some reason, she didn’t. She refused to believe the evidence of her own eyes. She kept going.

Her car didn’t blend in as well as she’d hoped, and she really did have to make an effort to censor her tears, now. She comforted herself with the idea that everyone in the cars around her was more interested in being seen at a royal wedding than they were in gazing upon some unfortunate person driving a mid-range car.

When she reached the manor, it shocked her how different it looked now from how she remembered it. In the rain, through her emotionally-tainted eyes, it looked dingy, rather than bright. The parking lot where she, along with the string of arriving guests, was being directed was off the exit end of the round driveway, so she got a full view of the entrance, and the bright marble stairs that she’d sat on with Salman.

She didn’t look too closely. She couldn’t afford to get emotional again. Not when they were all so close together and at such slow speeds and she was sure to be noticed.

After she parked, she fiddled with her phone. If anyone saw her, she reasoned, they’d just think she needed to check something, and would be heading into the ceremony in a moment. She’d be dismissed; forgotten. Just the way she wanted to be. Right?

Her plan worked, it seemed. Everyone got out of their cars and meandered through the parking lot, and she was left alone. She gave herself a moment to cry. Just a moment of weakness. Everyone was inside. The parking lot was abandoned, even by the attendants, and Nadya started the engine and turned the car around, ready to head home. She found her way out, carefully avoiding the millions of dollars in automobiles surrounding her.

She allowed herself just one last look up at the entryway. Just another moment going over the memory of what almost was but couldn’t be. She gasped. There, sitting on the steps, just where they had been sitting two days before, was Salman. He had his head down, like he was thinking of something.

Nadya couldn’t take her eyes off him. She’d told herself she could never see him again. She’d even accepted that she must structure her life around avoiding even the chance that she would. But now, here he was, right in front of her.

She heard a screech of metal hitting concrete, and felt the jolt. She hadn’t been watching where she was going, while the car crept forward, and she’d hit the curb of the driveway. She looked over the steering wheel, trying to discern if the car was stuck, and then her eyes darted back to where she’d seen Salman a moment before.

He’d heard it. He’d seen her.

No, this was the worst possible result of the trip out here. Nadya cursed under her breath, hurriedly putting the car in reverse. The wheels screeched as the car lurched back gracelessly, and Nadya sped away.

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