Page 125 of To Tango, with Desire

So when Kade’s drinking had turned to prescription pills, Omar had gotten involved. He’d been placed in rehab after rehab until he’d gotten clean. Not that he’d lasted long.

“I don’t have time to handle this before I leave. Fuck.”

“Listen, I can check in, see what else I can find out.”

“Thanks. But honestly, it’s not your problem.”

Sebastian leaned forward. “Zane, I’m happy to do it. Especially after all the help you’ve given me.”

“I thought we weren’t going to bring that up.”

“Well, I’m bringing it up.” His dark green eyes showed no remorse. “I’m here if you need someone to dig a little deeper. Sorry to be the bearer of shit news.”

“I appreciate the honesty.”

“I know it. Right, I’m off. Good luck, and I’ll hear from you when you get back.”

I watched as he walked out of my office. When he did, I buried my head in my hands, attempting to ease the dull throbbing at my temples. I had learned to steel myself against pain from a young age, to switch off the gnawing ache of hunger, to tolerate the blunt force of a punch, to absorb everything and not let the hurt show.

But somehow this news was a blow that hit harder than I expected.

Maybe I was going soft.

Needing answers, I called Kade, hoping to get through, then cursed when it went to voicemail. Even though I wanted to fix it, to get to the bottom of the rumors and sort this mess out, I knew it would have to wait until I returned.

It was only two weeks. How much worse could it possibly get?

THIRTY-TWO

AMIRA

“When are you giving your husband babies?”

I nearly choked on my morning coffee. I wasn’t prepared for an interrogation this morning.

I propped up my phone against the carton of milk and sat down at the kitchen table. My mom’s face filled most of the screen, and from the look in her eye, she meant business. I rolled my shoulders, wanting nothing more than to lie down and doze. While it had only been a few days since Zane had left, I was feeling his absence more than I had expected.

Every free moment I had, my brain would turn to thoughts of the baby. I was working late, the long hours a comfort to my overwrought mind. Yet it was in the quiet moments when I lay down in bed, with nothing but my own thoughts to keep me company, that I wondered if what I was doing was the right thing.

An abortion was the only way out of parenthood at this stage.

But the thought of doing that, of getting rid of a life that we’d made, left me feeling sick to my stomach.

Now that I had feelings for Zane, I couldn’t simply brush aside this decision. The old me would have had no qualms in booking myself into a clinic and getting it taken care of. But knowing it was his baby changed everything.

Every time I visited the abortion services website for more information, my head swam.

And as much as I wanted to talk this through with my mom and sister, I couldn't seem to form the words. I couldn’t tell them I was contemplating an abortion. They wouldn’t understand.

“You know that I don’t have to have children to have a fulfilling marriage.”

Mom clucked her tongue. “This is wrong. Every man wants to have his own child. Your father said so before he died. Every man wants a family, especially a man like your husband.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that a man who comes from our culture, with that kind of wealth, doesn’t want to die and leave it to strangers.”

“And how would you know that?”