Chapter 87

After dumping the last of her cleansing wipes and washing her face, Ziza bent toward the mirror. She was inspecting her thorough work when her suite doorbell went off. Wondering who it could be, she froze for when Rafiq’s image darted into her mind’s eye. Him sitting in the front row watching her then giving her a standing ovation.

Ziza shook her head. He couldn’t have found her, at least not this soon.

She poked her head out of the bathroom.

“Who is it?” Ziza called out, though she half-expected the other person to not reply. Her nervous grip on the robe she wore only loosened when she got a response.

“Room service!” Replied the high-pitched disembodied voice. Then a shaky laugh left her lips small laugh, and she shook her head at her silliness.

That’s right! She’d ordered room service right before stepping into the shower. She spied the time on her phone and yes, room service was right on time! Ziza secured the knot on her bathrobe before rushing to the door with a little skip in her step. Tonight, comfort food would be her only company while she ponder about her future, at least not until Zach and Sasha came around to chew her off for pulling her disappearing act.

When she swung the door open, Ziza gasped and came to a screeching halt the instant she made eye contact with the person on the other side.

Rafiq’s imposing frame filled the open doorway as he leaned against the door frame.

For a while she stood there speechless and frozen into a gapping statue until he opened his mouth to say something. It was as if making the slightest of movement had broken his spell. Ziza leapt into action. Using as much force as she could muster, she swung the door closed. When she saw him wedge his foot in the threshold to block the door’s path—and heard his pained yelp upon impact, Ziza winced and opened it just as fast as she’d tried to close it.

Big mistake.

He’d faked, and it worked. Like the cunning snake he was, he slithered his way in the instant she’d cracked the door open again. Then pushed it shut using the very foot he’d ‘injured’.

“Rafiq?” she gasped, stunned into a statue again.

“In the flesh.” He said.

Rafiq smiled as his anger dissipated with one look at her innocent face. Free from all the makeup from earlier, she looked so small and delicate.

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” She asked in a small voice, looking as guilty as a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“I have my ways, as you know.” He replied. Then he sighed, intending to—needing to hold her in his arms. Rafiq took a step towards her, but she took one back too.

“I told you I was coming back!” Her sudden angry outburst took Rafiq by surprise. He thought she’d have run into his arms once the shock of seeing him had worn off. But then again, she had run when she discovered he was in the audience.

“Clearly you don’t trust me even that much.” She jutted her chin and narrowed her eyes. “Or what? You thought I was cheating on you?”

“That’s not why I’m here, Aziza.”

“What part of I want to breathe did you not understand?!” She threw her hands in the air.

Rafiq paused for a second, then repeated himself. “Please, allow me to share what’s on my mind.”

He needed to get her back. To fix everything that had gone wrong between them.

“You couldn’t wait twenty-four more hours?” she placed her hands on her waist.

“No” Rafiq gave a small shake of his head.

“I think you seriously need to work on your communication skills, Rafiq. The last time we spoke, I got the impression that you’d said everything you needed to say. In fact,” she lifted her chin, “I got the impression that you were calling it quits. A divorce.”

The instant that heavy word left her lips, Ziza watched in surprise as Rafiq’s eyes grow into large saucers. As if the mention of a divorce had literally choked him.

“We are certainly not getting a divorce.” He growled. Rafiq wanted to throw his hands in the air and ask her where she’d gotten that idea, but he bit tongue. Because he knew exactly where he’d gotten it.

“So what? Are you here for more?” Ziza fidgeted with her belt and shrugged, trying to not let her relief show too much. She watched him quietly, waiting for his response as he took a step forward.

This time, when he drew closer and gently held her by her shoulders, Ziza didn’t shrug or step away from his touch. Causing him to breathe out a small sigh of relief. Before he said anything else, Rafiq knew he needed to command her full attention. To stress every word that came out of his mouth and show her he meant them all.

“I am sorry, amyrti.” His gaze pouring on her stunned one.

“W—what?” she stammered, wondering whether she’d imagined him saying those words.

“I know these words will not take away the pain I have caused you, Aziza.” His hands moved up to cup her jaw, and he drew her forehead against his. “There is no excuse for everything I did. I only hope that I am not too late, habibta.”

That word. Beloved.

Rafiq had used that word so many times before. But never had it rolled off his tongue like it did then. Against her better judgement, her heart soared with what it could mean. Could he possibly be telling her…? Finally? Should she dare to dream?

She gave a shake of her head, desperately wanting to know. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, that day I wanted to hurt you like… like you’d hurt me.” He stumbled. “I—I regretted the things I said to you and I still do. It was cruel and uncalled for. Forgive me even for my other indiscretions against you. Both Intentional and not—heavens. I don’t know what to say. I’ve never had to do this before.”

He raised his head to peer down at her, so unsure of himself. Desperately yearning for everything to go well. This was his life. He couldn’t leave this country empty-handed.

“Keep going.” She swallowed. “You’re doing well so far.”

Rafiq released a shaky laugh, then sobered up again.

“Pushing you away is my biggest regret, and you were right.” He sighed. “That meeting with Rashida was a front. My genuine intentions were to find out whether we still had a spark. Something.”

“I’m not sure I want to hear this.”

“You do.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers.

“There was nothing, habibta. I felt only for you, and it drove me mad until I came to terms with what I had been suspecting all along. That maybe you were the one. When I came back, I tried as best as I could to show you how I felt. But by then I’d already lost you.”

“I was an utter mess without you, Aziza.”

“Oh, Rafiq.” Ziza willed herself to not cry as she cupped his cheek in her shaking hand. “You haven’t lost me. At all. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. To rule by my side when our time finally comes. I feared that I’d lost that when you flew here, and I knew I had to get you back.” He paused, his mind searching carefully. “I’ve needed you even before you came into my life. I realise that now.”

“Maybe I should fly out more often. Cause good things seem to always happen when I do.” They laughed softly. His gaze fell to her fingers he was subconsciously playing with.

“No.” He shook his head. “I will never let you go again. I’ll keep you by my side forever.”

His eyes travelled to hers once more. An emotion she’d never seen bathed his features, making it difficult to pinpoint. Which was something so out of character for him and had her head filling with so many questions she watched him.

“That’s if you will have me.” He was hesitant.

“What are you…?” Her eyes widened, and she cupped her hands over her gapping mouth when he abruptly dropped to one knee before her. That’s when she identified that emotion on his face.

Fear.

He was afraid. Of losing her? Ziza could hardly believe it. The powerful man before her was afraid of a future without her. So much that he’d chased after her. And the best part of it all was that he wasn’t so sure of himself as he usually was. He wasn’t confident whether she’d be with him the next time he got on the flight home.

Home.

He was her home now; she thought. She didn’t have anyone to go back to except him. Not if he wasn’t there. Her heart dared to dream. It dared to give itself to him wholesomely and utterly. How could she stay angry with him now?

“Aziza Karachi Al Shahaad,” Rafiq swallowed.

Out of the interior breast pocket of his tuxedo blazer, he produced that small black box. Her wide, innocent eyes glinted with tears that overflowed and slid down her cheeks. Ziza blinked at the most beautiful ring she’d ever set her eyes on.

One she recognised, which meant Rafiq had taken it from the royal jewellery vault! It was a ring passed down by the Al Shahaad family to the succeeding king who would gift it to his bride.

“I shackled your life to mine because of a terrible mistake that I made. A mistake that I never deeply apologised for—until this moment. But what I do not apologize for is meeting you.” He cringed, “as cliché as that sounds, I don’t.”

“I don’t regret our foundation being built on an arranged marriage.” He said, “Because the Almighty knew I would be too stubborn to see you for who you are. My angel, my soul mate.” He cleared his throat.

“Raffa.” She muttered. Cushioned in the box, the large and rare oval shaped Opal stone stared back at her. Its blue and green flecks caught the light in the room, making it glare. A deep red, when she peered close enough, gave the smoothly cut stone its uniqueness. Small rose diamonds glinted as they too caught the light, reminding her of the desert sand when it reflected the sun’s rays. They covered the ring’s three interwoven bands.

“I don’t know where I would be if it weren’t for you. But I know I wouldn’t know the beauty of this moment. I want you by my side, amyrti. As my counsellor, my wife and my queen. I love you, Aziza.” And heavens, did it feel liberating to say it to her. Only to her.

“You do?” She whispered.