Page 117 of To Tango, with Desire

Iwoke up gasping for air. I was being buried alive in a very deep grave, and I couldn’t seem to claw my way out. Every time I shifted the earth, more would come piling down on top of me. It covered my ears, embedded itself under my nails . . . There was nothing I could do but inhale more of the sour-smelling soil, damp from all the rain.

“Amira?”

I clutched at my chest, turning to see Zane propped up in bed. He switched on the low light, bathing the room in a soft glow.

“Are you okay?”

I shivered, the dream not making any sense.

“I was buried alive.”

“Again?”

I studied his grim expression, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“I’ve had this dream before?”

“The first night we came home from the hospital.”

“Hospital?”

“Amira.” Zane shifted closer. “Your dad—”

I cursed as the events of the past few days came rushing back. The hospital. Dad’s death. Mom’s admission to hospital due to stress. My siblings arriving.

“The funeral?”

“Not until Saturday.”

It’d been a blur. Since my mom had been admitted, all I’d been doing was administrative tasks. I’d never had to organize a funeral before, and it was thanks to Zane that I’d been able to get through the logistics of it. He’d spoken to the parish, made sure the church service was booked. Every detail had been seen to by him personally.

“I can’t believe he’s gone.” My eyes stung, and before I could blink, I was overcome by emotion. “He’s gone. He’s really gone.”

The silent tears turned into wracking sobs. My heart ached from knowing I wouldn’t be able to speak to him again. He wasn’t meant to die. Not now. Not so soon.

I’d been numb, unable to do more than just function since that day at the hospital. But when Zane wrapped his arms around me, I couldn’t contain it any longer. I cried for my dad, for my mom, for the pain of never seeing his face again.

I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

“I’ve got you, Amira. I’m here.” Zane held me until the tears subsided. He lay beside me, holding me still, when I cried once more.

I fell asleep in his arms, knowing this was just the beginning of my pain but finding comfort, nonetheless.

AMIRA

Zane had insisted on having the repast at the mansion.

He’d organized everything from the catering to the music, making sure that my family were tended to throughout the day.

Everyone had gathered, paying their respects to my mother and siblings. I was wrung out from all the crying and determined not to give way to the overwhelming grief that had kept me up half the night.

While the church service had been emotional, watching my father being lowered into the ground had shattered something inside of me. It had all happened so suddenly that even now, I was still processing it. Dad’s death had devastated our family.

I was in the kitchen when Sahar found me.

“You okay?”

I shrugged. “Not really. You?”