Chapter 19
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The three-hundred-person ceremony planned for the previous night had been canceled.
Instead, it was eleven o’clock in the morning on Thursday, and sixteen people were gathered in a simple, unadorned room tucked in the corner of the resort, overlooking the butterfly garden.
There were no candles today. No drummers. No Mughal-inspired backdrop.
Khaled wore a cream sherwani, and Lulu a simple ivory shalwar kamiz to match.
Her hair was pulled back in a low braid, and a veil was draped over her head.
Despite the lack of pomp and circumstance, as they exchanged their vows before the imam and promised to devote their lives to each other, the moment was undeniably perfect.
Khaled took Lulu’s hand. He beamed as he slipped the wedding band on her finger.
As Lulu gazed at him with complete adoration, a bittersweet sensation welled within Hena.
Until now, every event had been a fun house mirror of her own wedding week.
But here, their paths diverged. This was a moment she and Nasir had never shared.
By this point in her own timeline, Hena wasn’t welcoming a future with someone she loved; she was saying goodbye.
After the imam declared them man and wife, there were hugs. Smiles. Happy tears.
Yesterday was a surreal blur—endless trips to the hospital, officers questioning every guest and combing the grounds, and all the while, she and Khala taking turns to care for and calm her distraught mother.
But now, at least, there was this. It was now official.
Despite all the tension and stress and fear, Lulu and Khaled were now officially married.
As people exchanged well wishes, her eyes drifted to Reza.
He lingered off to the side, by the entrance.
His posture was stiff, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
Ever since Lulu discovered him in her suite yesterday morning, something had shifted.
Hena had texted him last night, asking him to come by. He said he couldn’t. A migraine.
“Hey, you,” she said, approaching him. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m better. Thanks.” He blinked and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And hey—congratulations.” He nodded to Lulu and Khaled.
“Thanks,” Hena said. “I’m glad it’s official.”
“How’s Gita?” he asked. “Is she any better?”
“It’s a serious concussion, but she’s stable,” she told him. “They kept her overnight for observation, but she’ll get discharged soon. She should be back in time for the shaadi tonight. Lulu wanted to call off the rest of the wedding, but of course, my mother wouldn’t hear of it.”
Worry lines creased his forehead. “It does feel a bit risky. Given what happened.”
“Unfortunately, Gita sided with my mother.”
He hesitated. “Are you sure you’re safe here?” he asked. “I heard the officers talking. They said you might have been the target.”
“I’ve double-locked the back door. Staff can only come and go through the front entrance,” Hena told him. “And you saw all the extra security roaming around.”
“You think that’s enough? Whoever did this to Gita, they’re still out there.”
“The wedding week is almost done. Besides, whoever is fucking with me, they don’t get to run me off.”
He smiled at this, and Hena’s heart lifted.
“I have nothing on deck until tonight,” Hena offered. “Come by?”
He hesitated again. “I’ll try.”
Try.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked.
His eyes met hers. There was something there. Something she couldn’t read. It was gone just as quickly.
“I’m good,” he said. “Just tired.”
Before she could press, Haris walked toward them. Hena excused herself—the last thing she wanted was to risk another confrontation between the two of them.
“Gita’s okay,” she told Haris. “Hopefully the police can get to the bottom of who did this.”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you. She spoke to the police.”
“And?”
“She said someone grabbed her from behind. She didn’t even have time to react before she blacked out. She doesn’t remember anything.”
Nothing? She pushed down her disappointment. “Someone must have seen something. One of the bellhops or other workers?”
“The police are still interviewing guests, groundskeepers, and other employees to see if anyone noticed anything off. At the moment, we’ve got nothing.”
He shifted his weight, his jaw tense. Hena was afraid to ask. But—
“Is there something else?”
“Milcheck reached out. He wants us to come to the station.”
Of course he does.
“I’ve held him off for now,” Haris said. “But you and I should find time to talk through everything. Especially that video.”
Something in his expression made her throat constrict.
“I should have told you I saw Nasir the morning of our shaadi,” Hena said quietly. “He made me swear not to say a word.”
She watched Haris absorb this information. He’d been nothing but professional as each new piece of withheld information surfaced, but deep down, was he furious?
Haris sighed. “Nasir never gave us easy choices, did he?”
“He didn’t,” Hena said softly. And speaking of Nasir, there was another thing she hadn’t had a chance to tell him. Not yet.
She filled Haris in on the gossip about Nasir, the alleged sighting at Las Olas—which meant he must have been trailing the wedding guests.
“I heard that rumor,” he said. “I reached out to the PI who works for us on retainer at my law firm and asked him to look into it.”
“And?” Hena’s pulse quickened.
“He traced everything, but the security cameras didn’t clock anyone in the area matching Nasir’s description. No phone pings detected either. Makes me think Milcheck is full of it. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me.”
Of course there wasn’t a phone ping. Of course Kiran didn’t see Nasir strolling the streets of Las Olas. Hena felt stupid for even entertaining the thought.
The wedding planner interrupted their conversation. It was time for wedding photos.
Hena searched for Reza, but he was gone. As the groomsmen gathered around Khaled, Hena pulled out her phone.
Where are you? They’re taking wedding photos.
Three dots appeared. Then—
Went to my room to lie down. I’m feeling under the weather.
Under the weather? Hena had just seen him. He was fine.
After the photos, her aunt walked over to her.
“Your mother wants to rest,” she told Hena. “Do you mind taking her, and I will switch with you once I’m done here?”
“Of course.”
“Where did your beau go?”
“My—”
“Reza, right?”
Heat crawled up Hena’s neck. “Khala, we’re just…”
“Friends? Uh-huh.” Khala eyed Hena. “You can pretend with others if you’d like, but not me.”
The truth was, Hena was a little confused about the status of Reza and herself at the moment.
That night on the boat. Her room the next morning.
Those moments were so tender. So real. But since then, his evasive behavior…
how it felt like he was dodging her…she didn’t want to go there, but she was starting to wonder if maybe their moments together had just led to a hookup and nothing more.
“Reza is nice,” she said. “But there’s nothing to tell, at least not yet.”
“And Haris?” Khala tilted her head. “He’s a nice boy too.”
“Khala!” She flushed.
“I saw Haris and Reza yesterday. Haris was a bit combative, wasn’t he?”
Her aunt had noticed?
“You know how people get about newcomers here,” Hena said.
“That’s not what it was,” Khala said.
“What do you think it was?”
“I know what it was. Jealousy.” She gave her a sly look. “You can’t blame the boy. It can affect the best of us.”
Hena fidgeted. Haris wasn’t jealous, he was protective. People were always looking for stories where there weren’t any. Even well-meaning people like Khala Simki.
Hena approached her mother, who frowned.
“Why are you here?” Ammi asked.
“To take you to your room. You need to rest.”
“You should leave. You’re not safe.”
“They’ve got plenty of security. Lulu said she’s getting more people to come tonight.”
“We need one for you in particular. You don’t have anyone.” She let out an agitated breath. “The marriage is official now. Why stay?”
“You want me to hop on a flight back to California right now?”
“I’ve heard the chatter. The man who tried to attack you. He’s back.” She shifted in her wheelchair. “It’s foolhardy to stay. Charter a private plane if you must. I’ll make some calls. We’ll set you up with security back home. It’s best to be safe.”
“What are you talking about? The shaadi is tonight.”
“Hena, be reasonable.”
“I am being reasonable,” Hena replied. “Whoever is trying to mess with me, they don’t get to win. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You are as stubborn as you ever were.”
“Hmm.” Hena pursed her lips. “I wonder where I get it from?”
Ammi exhaled, shaking her head, but Hena caught the faintest hint of a smile.
Back in the suite, she helped her mother into bed, then headed to the kitchen to get water. When she returned, her mother was on a video call with Gita.
Gita was raspy, but she was chatting easily.
“The doctor said ibuprofen should do the trick,” Gita was saying. “I don’t know why they won’t let me out already.”
“Patience is a virtue, Gita. Hospitals take the time they take.”
“Says the woman who was ready to bolt from the hospital room with her IVs still attached?”
Her mother laughed, and Hena felt some of the tension in her easing at the sight of her mother truly relaxed. When Ammi hung up, Hena regarded her thoughtfully.
“You and Gita get along so well,” she said.
“She’s a good girl.”
“I’ve never seen you speak so easily with anyone.”
Her mother considered this. “I suppose I see myself in her,” she told Hena. “She was in a bad marriage much like I was, but unlike me, she had the good sense to leave as soon as she realized it.”
“Why did you marry Abu?” Hena asked, seizing an opening she’d never had before.
A flutter of nerves rose in Hena as her mother considered the question. She waited for a scowl. A sharp retort.