Page 65 of The Love Match

“Zahra,

Zahra,

Zahra…”

My knees buckle me onto a convenient bench, but the cool stone does nothing to bring me back to my senses. Tears bead like dewdrops on my lashes, and in spite of my best efforts to blink them away, a few trickle down my cheeks to the hard floor.

Nayim’s fingers fall still over his guitar strings when he notices. “Whoa, Zahra, you’re crying! Do you… not like it?”

“No, I love it,” I say on a shuddering breath, but I can’t bear to look at him.

He sets his guitar on the ground and kneels in front of me, taking my hands in his own, his chin cradled atop our entwined fingers. His eyes shine like gold in the sunlight that streams between the pillars, though shadows dance across his cheekbones and frowning mouth.

“What is it?”

The sight of him only guts me more. “It’s—you’re so good, Nayim.”

“That’s no reason to cry, is it, love?” he asks, quirking a tiny smile.

I don’t smile back. “It’s not fair! It’s not fair how no one will know but me, just because of who you are. Not fair howno one wants us together or how we can’t pursue our dreams because we’re poor. I always thought Amma and other adults were ridiculous for caring so much about something so vapid, but money decides everything, doesn’t it? It isn’t fair.”

New teardrops leak from my eyes at every word.

Nayim murmurs soothing nonsense in an effort to comfort me, and when that doesn’t work, says, “I’ve been writing this song for you for ages. I hoped this would be the most romantic place to sing it. Instead, you’re sad.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, gazing over his head at the breathtaking view, which twists a knife in my heart. “It’s beautiful here. Your song was beautiful.”You’re beautiful.“But being in this castle reminded me how easy Catholina Lambert must have had it. His lovely life, high above the clouds, watching people like us toil far below. It’s been more than a century since this place was built, but nothing ever changes, does it?”

Nayim’s brows draw together in concern. “You’re scaring me, Zar. Are you okay?”

“No,” I confess. “I’m not okay. I’ve always known it, but the fact that I’m far from a princess feels more real to me than ever.”

“What’s going on?” he asks. “Is it… your mother again?”

All at once, I blurt out everything that happened with Amma, as well as how the women at the picnic have only reinforced the idea that there’s one path for me, the one where I let a nice wealthy guy like Harun take care of me forever,because otherwise I’m sentencing myself and my family to a lifetime of struggle.

By the time I finish, I’m sobbing openly, until Nayim’s arms wrap around me. I dry my face on his soft shirt, which smells of sugar, the lullaby of his heartbeat against my moist cheek.

“Everything will be okay,” he whispers into my hair.

I choke out a watery laugh. “It might not, actually, but if I have you, maybe at least some of it will. Thank you for being here.”

His arms tighten around me, but he goes quiet. I worry I’ve offended him with my lack of faith, but then he pushes me back by the shoulders enough to peer into my face, the light in his golden eyes dimming.

“I mean it, Zahra,” he says. “If you’re unhappy here, you don’t have to stay. Let’s leave.”

“L-leave?” I stare at him, uncomprehending. “What do you mean? Where would we go?”

“Anywhere you want,” he replies. “Everywhere, if need be.”

I laugh again and start to say, “That’s sweet,” but the stubborn set of his jaw doesn’t falter, stopping me in my tracks. “Wait, are you serious? We can’t run away. My whole life is here. What about your guitar shop? Didn’t you always imagine it in New York City?”

“I did,” he answers. “But Paterson, New York, Bangladesh… They’re just places, and if I’ve learned anything since leaving home, it’s that places are temporary. You, Zahra.Youmatter to me. As long as I’m with you, I can figure outsomewhere else to open my shop. Texas, California—hell, maybe Paris, like we talked about that one night.”

My head begins to shake of its own accord. This can’t be the Nayim I know, who’s sacrificedeverythingin pursuit of his dream. The Nayim who inspires me. It can’t be so easy forthatNayim to up and leave the future he had his heart set on.

“Everything I know is here,” I say. “My family is here. Even if we could somehow afford jetting around the world like that, I couldn’t possibly abandon them.”

Nayim’s grip tightens on my shoulders. “Zar, please. I know something about families like yours, who try to make you into their puppet, pulling your strings till they snap and you’re left broken. I don’t want that to happen with you. We can leave before it does, and we’ll be okay. I know… because I’ve done it before.”

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