You call this fate?

Epilogue

There was something special in the air; surely there was?

As I stepped off the private jet, holding a hand up to shield my eyes from the glare of the sun, tears trickled down my cheeks. My hands shook so hard it was difficult keeping a grip on my suitcase. There was a strange hollowness in my chest, as if I had left my insides two thousand feet above the ground.

“You doing good?”

I twisted my head slightly to acknowledge Alexander’s question, not in a mood to answer and knowing he would respect my silence. I felt him come up beside me. He adjusted his sunglasses, then extended a hand to take my case. I let him.

With our luggage now bunched in one hand, Alex offered me his arm. “You look like you need help.”

I blinked. Heat rose off the tarmac in sluggish waves. I placed a hand on his proffered elbow.

Together we got off the stairs. The moment my feet touched the ground, my legs wobbled. If not for the firm muscles my fingers instinctively latched onto, the first contact I had with the surface of my motherland would have been to face-plant on the asphalt at Illama Iqbal International Airport.

“We are here,” I whispered. It felt like a dream. The other planes, lined up like obedient children, wavered at the end of my vision. “We are really here.” I took a deep breath. “Can you smell that?”

Alexander took an experimental sniff. “Yes, I can. Smells like refuse.”

I curled my lip and turn to fix him with a murderous glare. “So did your city. Did I complain?”

“Well,” he scratched his chin, “you did when you thought someone would listen—”

“What are you doing?” I was not impressed.

He lifted his glasses so his eyes could sparkle down at me. “I am just trying to make you relax.” He rubbed my arm. “Everything is going to be alright. We are here now; that’s already huge. You will be fine.”

I sighed; then set my jaw. “I will be fine.”

“I told you we shouldn’t have come now. You are getting snippy already.” He ran a hand over my rounding abdomen, a smile on his lips.

I slapped the hand away. “Fingers off, champ. Besides,” I winked at him, “it was probably these same hormones that made me so desperate. I couldn’t wait. Also,” I pointed at my middle, “I told you we should be more careful. This is your fault.”

He grabbed my hand and kissed my fingers. “This was bound to happen. It’s a beautiful mistake.”

I snorted. Who would have thought from initial impressions that the thought of a child of his own blood would have Alexander Rodwell over the moon?

We left a harassed Conrad—our unwilling companion—with the plane. It took an hour for us to navigate the airport terminal and finally reach baggage claim. Not having any more bags than what we had in our hands, we stalked past the revolving belts and, following the directions, made our way to the bathrooms. I waved my hand at the doors. “Go on then,” I said to the now unhappy looking Alexander. “Get ready. The men’s is over there.”

“This is so absolutely unnecessary,” he muttered.

After the discussions already discussed, I couldn’t believe he still wanted to complain. “I told you, you are too conspicuous. Dressing in a shalwar-kameez will help hide you.”

“And you are still not going to agree with Conrad getting us private transport?”

I scowled. “I already agreed to leave the girls out for now. That’s about all I want to give ground on. And,” I shrugged a shoulder, “I want to arrive there like a normal person; not some foreign princess too precious to get dirty with the rest of the public. Not with an entourage. I can’t go to my parents’ door like that.”