Page 129 of To Tango, with Desire

When I’d received an unexpected visit from Kade last night, acting erratic and demanding to see Zane, I’d been shocked and, for the first time since meeting him, a little frightened.

He’d been restless, storming into Zane’s office, expecting an audience. He’d only been here for ten minutes, but it had been enough to rattle me. After speaking to Zane about it on the phone this morning, he’d reassured me that he would handle it when he returned. He gave me strict instructions that I wasn’t allowed to let Kade in the house if he showed up again. Apparently, there’d been issues that had arisen before Zane had left. I could only hope that Kade was okay. I’d tried calling him this afternoon but had no luck.

“You sure you’re alright? You look off.”

I tried to smile, knowing it was half-assed. “I’m fine. Just drama with Kade. Head on up and pick any spare room and I’ll defrost some meals.”

“Thanks. You sure you don’t want me to do it?”

“No way.”

I watched as Sahar ushered Mom and the kids upstairs, grateful for my sister’s authoritative nature. At that point, I had no energy to deal with my mom.

I thought about how Zane always said I was an open book. Which wasn’t normally a problem, except I was trying to keep this pregnancy a secret. Vomiting up every meal was going to be hard to keep quiet with my mom and sister around. Especially given that they’d both been through this many times before.

I breathed through the flush of heat that made me want to peel off my clothes. All I’d wanted was to sink into a massive bubble bath and possibly have some fruit and crackers for dinner. The bouts of vomiting seriously made me lose my appetite. Not to mention the sudden dizzy spells that made it hard to move faster than a snail’s pace.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage, and I only hoped that I could hide the pregnancy until Zane came home.

AMIRA

It was on the third day when the shit hit the fan.

I’d taken Monday off, given that Mom and Sahar were due to fly out that afternoon. We’d had an early lunch after packing all their bags in the morning and had gathered outside on the picnic rug, when I felt my chicken and avocado salad make its way back up.

Up until that point, I’d been careful about which bathrooms to use when I got sick, hoping like hell that the kids would be loud enough to distract Mom and Sahar any time I’d needed to use the bathroom. But this time, I hadn’t been able to make it. I had no choice but to throw up downstairs, losing my lunch.

When I came out of bathroom, my mom and sister were in the hall.

“That’s not the first time you’ve been sick these past few days.”

I walked back into the kitchen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sahar.”

“I mean, I’ve heard you throwing up at least four times.” Sahar filled a glass of water, using some of the discarded lemon and lime on the cutting board to place in the glass. “What’s going on?”

“You keeping something, I see it.” Mom wagged her finger at me. “You didn’t go doctor, did you? What if you very ill? This is not normal.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m tired and ate something funny.” I looked out at the yard, watching the boys playing in the grass. Leo was pulling up tufts of flowers and Robbie was kicking a ball. Both had enjoyed the makeshift picnic we’d set up for lunch, while Emmy napped in the car seat.

Damn it, I thought I’d managed to get away with it.

“That’s what you said last time.” Sahar frowned, shrewd, blue eyes examining me.

“The tired, the dizzy, the vomit.” Mom listed on her fingers. “No woman’s like this unless she . . .” Mom gasped. “Pregnant! Amira, are you pregnant?”

Sahar stared at me, wide-eyed. “Oh my god! No . . . Oh my god, you are. It’s written plain to see all over her face!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Amira, swear you’re not pregnant. On baba’s grave.”

Fuck.

“I’m just sick. It’s nothing.”

Nasrin squealed, clapping her hands. “You’re pregnant! Oh! Amira, habibti, you’re going to have a baby. You’re going to make Zane so proud, so happy!”