Page 52 of To Tango, with Desire

Zane shrugged. “I don’t.”

When the entrée was served, I enjoyed every mouthful. The scallops were soft, like cutting through butter. And the flavor was so delicate, I found myself unable to stop eating until my plate was empty.

“Tayeb?”

“Very tasty.”

“So what about yourself? What was it like growing up the youngest of five?”

“Chaos.” I nodded as the waiter came around with another glass of wine. This time a crisp chardonnay. I sampled it, sighing in pleasure. So this was how the other half lived.

As we ate, I told Zane about my protective older brothers, how my family prided themselves on their traditions and customs. How I felt so different from them all. Strangely enough, we had something in common. Growing up feeling like we didn’t quite fit in our worlds but not knowing what to do to change it.

It struck me how similar our views on life were.

“A black sheep isn’t a bad one, Amira. Your goals are different.”

I smiled, appreciating the sentiment. “I like that. But it’s hard when you grow up and feel like everything you do isn’t going to please your parents.”

“They have different dreams. Sometimes you need to make the tough choice, even if it means disappointing them. No doubt it’s made harder by being the only child left at home.”

“It is. And you proposing didn’t help.”

“I’d like to say I’m sorry, but I’d be lying.”

“I always feel like I’m justifying my decision to have a career with them. But I want more than just settling down.” Saying it aloud to someone who understood felt liberating. “I need to achieve these goals because they’re a part of me. I know it’s selfish, but I want to create something that will make me proud.”

“And to show them what you’re made of as well.”

We locked eyes and something passed between us. An understanding. Was it his age that afforded him such perspicacity, or was it his personality? Either way, it was comforting to be understood, and yet strangely odd at the same time.

“There’s nothing wrong with ambition. It’s admirable. I see it in you, when you talk of your business, the way you’ve worked hard to rent out a space so you can take it to the next level. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel less for it. It’s okay to be selfish when chasing your dreams.”

“I—thanks. Maybe you can convince my parents that it’s not a disaster for me to want to be successful. All they want to talk about is marriage.”

“I’m curious, what does marriage mean to you?”

I was struck by the question.

“I know what marriage means to your parents. I’ve spoken to them about it many times since I proposed. But what does it mean to you? The ambitious fashion designer?”

I took a moment to steady myself, knowing I needed to be honest. After a deep breath in, I told him my greatest hope. My only fear. “Love.”

Zane gripped his wine glass, eyes hard.

“Marrying you means giving up the one thing I promised myself I deserved in a partnership. I never wanted anything else than a husband who loved me.”

Eventually, Zane replied, crushing every dream I had, “I can’t love you, Amira. I can give you a life of luxury. I can offer you my companionship, my body, my connections, but I cannot love you.”

He’d intimated it when he’d proposed, but hearing it from him like this, spoken so casually, so carelessly broke my heart.

“I appreciate you offering to give my parents the world, but you’re asking me to give up something I believe in. And I don’t know if I can,” I whispered, surprised to feel my eyes beginning to sting.

Oh god. I couldn’t cry in front of him, at a swanky restaurant of all places. It was too embarrassing.

As if by divine intervention, the dessert was served. And I had something to focus on other than the aching pressure in my chest.

My parents’ marriage sat heavy on my conscience. The bitter fights, the never-ending arguments, the animosity. I was terrified that being with Zane would inevitably lead to that. We were strangers getting married. It was an insane proposal. And yet, here I was contemplating it, wanting desperately to believe we could be something more.