Chapter Four #3
He stilled and she braced herself for what he’d say next. She knew that he still had something to say. About the spa. About her.
‘I really am sorry,’ she said, before he could take over the conversation, knowing from their previous interactions that he’d find it extremely difficult to let her get a full sentence out.
‘I didn’t… Well, I didn’t think I’d get caught,’ she admitted ruefully.
‘But I also didn’t think how it would appear to you. ’
Malik eventually nodded, as if accepting her explanation.
‘I… I have some bad experiences with people seeing my scar for the first time,’ he admitted, with some difficulty, she realised.
She opened her mouth to say something, but one glance from him stopped her. Not in a bad way, but he had let her know that he hadn’t finished. She smiled and nodded for him to continue.
‘Because of that, I may have been somewhat abrupt in…calling off the wedding.’
‘Does that mean—’ Hana said.
‘No. It is still most definitely off,’ Malik insisted. ‘But… I will do everything in my power to limit any negative side effects of the broken engagement,’ he offered. Graciously, she recognised. He didn’t have to do that for her. Malik took a breath that sounded as deep as an ocean.
‘How about we call a truce?’ he asked, holding out his hand for her to shake.
Hana looked at it, nodded and slipped her hand into his. Sparkles danced out from where their palms touched and she did her best to ignore the sizzling sensation that tickled at her breath.
‘Truce,’ she agreed.
‘Good. It’s my turn for that shower.’
She nodded, her gaze on her hand long after he left the room.
I will do everything in my power to limit any negative side effects of the broken engagement.
Hana bit her lip, hoping that the little sharp sting of pain might be enough to push back the foolish feelings that pressed wetly against the back of her eyes.
Once others found out that she’d been rejected by the Sheikh of Al Surrahin, no one would touch her. Her stock, as her sister liked to point out, was low enough being such a minor royal. A cousin would have better chances than her at this point.
‘I would make a good wife,’ she whispered to herself, determinedly. ‘I would.’
I’m kind and considerate, I want to make people happy, I love children and I… I mean well. And that’s important, she told herself.
But even as she said the words, she wasn’t sure she’d ever get the chance to be the wife she wanted to be, to have the family she’d always wanted.
She should never have done something so stupid. She’d just been so convinced that it would work. That she could tell him that she was sorry and that he’d understand and then she’d convince him to give her a second chance.
Hard work and determination.
Amara’s words whispered into her mind, but in that moment, Hana felt truly defeated.
Then eat.
Hana nearly barked out a laugh. That was exactly what Amara would have said.
Her stomach growled at the mere thought of it and she left the fire for the kitchen to survey the food that she’d managed to find in the staff quarters.
There had been a well-stocked pantry, but no fresh produce, obviously, as no one had been here for months.
There were some foreign brands, clearly brought over by the people working on the villa. It was, would be, truly spectacular when it was finished—and when there wasn’t a raging storm outside, she conceded as she picked through the tins, cans, packets and jars.
She bit her lip and tried to work out what the contents were.
There were some kind of dried noodles. It couldn’t be too hard to cook those. She narrowed her eyes at the tiny printed instructions, but soon gave up.
She twisted the lid off one of the jars and bent to smell the contents, before yanking her head to the side and trying not to gag. What was that! Alarm cut through her and she put the lid back on and the jar in the furthest part of the kitchen.
She found a few tins with pictures of their contents, ecstatic to see stuffed vine leaves in one, and aubergines with tomatoes in another. There was a block of hard cheese, unopened and vacuum sealed, and several large packets of crisps, though she couldn’t quite work out the flavours.
Okay, Hana said to herself. You can do this.
She found a pan in the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap.
She wasn’t quite sure how much water to add, so she added enough to cover the noodles and then spent about five minutes trying to turn on the stove, something that nearly drove her to tears.
But when the gas flame finally caught, she did a little dance and set the pan above it.
Now that she was doing something, she was beginning to feel better.
Busy hands are happy hands.
Feeling a little more confident, she found some plates and went back to the jars and packets and tins.
Maybe Malik would be in a better mood if he came back to find some food prepared for him?
Maybe, if he was in a better mood, she could try again?
Try to show him that she could be a good wife for him.
Yes. That was what she would do! Surely, she couldn’t mess that up.