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“You can be honest with me,” he said, softly. He reached forward and gently grasped her hands in his. They were cold, and she closed her eyes at his touch. His hands dwarfed hers, and he squeezed once before letting go, though he wanted to hold on. “If you want things to be different, you have the power to make that happen. You just need to figure out who you are and what you want.”

Dina inhaled. “Oh, is that all?” she said, her smile shaky. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I’m a liar and a fraud and I hate my job.”

“You’re intelligent and loyal, and maybe you should look for another job,” he countered.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, the world in their depths. “What I want most is to stop being so scared of disappointing everyone, of being a failure, of rejection. I wish I could do what I really wanted.”

Lucky’s smile was slow. “If you think you can’t, it’s because nobody let you in on life’s biggest secret.” He leaned closer. “Everyone’s scared, all the time. Do the scary thing anyway, Dina. Just say ‘bismillah’ and leap.”

Dina breathed out, slowly, her shoulders relaxing. “I’ll try,” she said. She sounded like she meant it too.

Lucky only hoped that whatever it was that Dina wanted, he would be a part of it somehow. Now that she was back in his life, he wasn’t sure he would be able to let her go again.

Chapter Fifteen

Dina’s phone buzzed, the sound an angry wasp’s nest in her ears. She groped a hand out and pressed snooze, except a moment later, it started buzzing again. She peeked an eye open and realized that her alarm wasn’t going off after all—someone was calling her.

Arshole calling, the display informed her.

She groaned out loud and accepted the call.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice groggy.

“Where the hell are you?” Her ex-husband sounded impatient and angry, which made her happy.

“None of your business,” she muttered. “Goodbye.”

“Dina, what is going on?” Arshad asked, and there was a note of . . . something in his voice. Concern? Worry? Maybe the beginnings of panic. “I’ve been ringing the doorbell for the past fifteen minutes. Why did you change the locks?”

“To protect my cake bars,” Dina said. Something was niggling at the back of her mind. What had happened last night? Why was Arshad at her house, and what time was it? She glanced at the night table, to the digital clock she had used since high school, the one that had followed her from her parents’ home, to her dorm room, to her house.

Except it wasn’t there.

She bolted up in bed and looked around, wild-eyed. She was asleep on a twin bed in a tiny carpeted bedroom. The only other furniture was a matching bookcase with the entire Diary of a Wimpy Kid collection at eye level. Where was she?

Arshad was still talking, and she held the phone up to her ear. “. . . it was your idea to pretend we’re still married. I told you I’d be at your place early so we could drive to the nikah together. I don’t have time for—”

She dropped the phone again and rubbed her eyes. What had happened last night? It was all a blur. All she remembered was storming out of Aunty’s Diner, Lucky trailing behind, the conversation that followed, him holding her hands, telling her she was loyal and smart, looking at her as if she were the most important person in the world, telling her that everyone was afraid, but she should still do the brave thing, and then she—

What? Something had happened after that memory, but it was gone, blanked out. First things first. She picked up her phone. Arshad was still complaining like a stood-up teenager.

“I have to go,” she said, feigning calm.

“Don’t forget, you owe me, and if you start pulling this kind of crap—”

“I slept over at my parents’ place last night, and in all the fun times, forgot to text you,” she improvised. “Do you want me to explain to my father that you have a problem with me spending time with my family the night before Hania’s wedding?”

That stopped Arshad. He wanted her parents to think of him as a perfect, charming son-in-law.

“I’ll meet you at the nikah,” she said before hanging up.

Next, she had to figure out where the hell she was. She opened the door—

And nearly tripped over someone sleeping across the threshold.

“Ow!” Lucky said. He looked blearily up at her before hastily covering his eyes and turning away. “Sorry! I didn’t see anything!”

Which was when she realized she wasn’t wearing her hijab.