Page 159 of To Tango, with Desire

“That’s not what I want. I don’t think that will help. But the community service we have lined up will.”

Kade’s eyebrows rose. “Okay. I can do that.”

“Working with some of the poorest kids in the country will offer some perspective. Maryam needs some help now that her daughter is busy with their new school. I offered you as a volunteer.”

“Sounds like a good start. I wanted to see you today to give you something that I took a long time ago. I claimed I didn’t, but we both knew the truth. I stole it from you any time you pissed me off.”

I knew what he was referring to and my throat closed over.

“You don’t—”

“I do. You see, I gave it to you that day when you arrived because Dad made me. He threatened to take all my things if I didn’t choose one of those Matchbox cars to gift you. It’s probably why I kept stealing it back. I never gave it willingly. I know that says a lot about me as a greedy kid, but I’m gifting it to you now. And I hope when you look at it that it reminds you that you’re a good person. A forgiving, honest man. And that you had a friend—a brother—who loves and looks up to you. Even if I fucked things up along the way.”

“Kade . . .”

“It’s at reception. I brought it in with me as a reminder of who I was leaving behind. A reminder of the man I wanted to be: you.”

Fuck. My chest ached and tears blurred my vision. So much had changed. And I was so damn grateful that it had.

“I love you, Kade.” I held his gaze, making sure he understood. “I don’t think I’ve said those words in a long time. If at all. But you need to know, you’re loved. I’m so damn proud of you for doing this. For doing the hard thing. So if you’re ever feeling low, or at rock bottom, or, hell, one step away from relapse, you come to me, you hear? You come to me and I will fucking be there.”

Kade stood, closing the distance. We embraced, and the tremors through his body released something in me. I let go of the pain and the bitterness. I let go of the heartache completely.

Holding each other, we both shed tears for the past, offering a silent promise for the future.

It was only when I left the center and opened the small parcel that I smiled.

As soon as my hand touched the cold metal, I was taken back in time. I pulled out the small Matchbox racing car. A Ferrari. One of countless we’d played with as children.

It had been the very first gift I’d received from Kade when we’d first arrived at the Latif residence. He had had many replicas of it, but over the years my car had kept going missing. I had known which was mine because of the dent in the door. All the others had been pristine.

I’d cherished that car for a long time. And had been devastated any time I’d ‘lost’ it.

To have it back made my heart ache. I wept for the young boys that had been torn apart in our love for one man. In our desire for his acceptance. I cried for the circumstances of my childhood, for the mothers long gone, and the fathers who’d fallen short.

But most of all, I wept for the brother I’d found. The brother I’d once hated more than anyone in the world. The brother I’d grown to love again.

Holding this toy car, I let the tears fall. And in falling, I allowed them to wash away all our sins.

FORTY-ONE

AMIRA

Ireceived the package while I was still at work.

Inside it was a rose-red dress, its dainty straps and scooped back leaving nothing to the imagination. The soft, flowing material that ended at my knees would move beautifully when I walked. It was expensive and classy, exactly the type of outfit that Zane would pick.

It came with a note. To meet him at a special milonga that was happening that night. We hadn’t danced in so long that I’d been out of the loop on tango events. I had no idea what was happening on the scene or with whom. To think that I’d once been dancing three or four nights a week . . . that I’d once longed for the connection that Zane and I shared now.

Zane sent the car to take me home, and it didn’t take long for me to shower and dress, a bubble of excitement coursing through me at the surprise. I was growing accustomed to his sporadic gifts.

It seemed every month, there was an excuse for Zane to shower me with some kind of mini trip away or dazzling jewel. I was being thoroughly spoilt, but he insisted that it was his greatest pleasure in the world to do it. He wasn’t buying my affection, he claimed, but showing me his love.

Knowing my husband’s stubborn nature, I knew it was pointless to protest.

When the car pulled up outside of Bentleigh Place, I smiled, remembering. This was where Zane and I had first danced. At a tango lesson long ago. It had been the first time I’d spoken to him, the first time I’d felt his chest pressing against my breasts. I’d been immediately aroused and secretly thrilled that he’d known who I was.

I bit my lip, remembering how arrogant he’d been. I wasn’t the same girl I’d been then. So many things had changed since we’d first danced.