He had got through his work as best he could but had then cleared his desk for the rest of the week, berating himself for leaving her alone.
It had been a very, very long night, and now there she stood, her hair whipped by the wind, her cheeks pink from too much sun. He pulled out his phone and fired a rapid text as, unknown to Layla, he had each night she’d been there—though never as late as it was this time.
Just to let you know, Layla is fine.
‘Who are you texting at this time of night?’
‘Your brother,’ Mikael said. ‘As I have every night.’
‘Why would you do that?’ she demanded.
‘Because he cares about you, Layla.’ Mikael was having great trouble not shouting. ‘Because he must feel sick wondering just how the hell you are and whether or not you are safe, and a text—one bloody text—must surely help, just as one bloody phone call might have…’
He stopped himself. The relief he had felt as she’d walked through the door had flicked to anger and he was not used to it, for he had never really cared enough about another person, or been scared for them before.
‘You have no idea the trouble you will have caused for me!’ Layla roared. ‘My brother will be furious that I am with a man this late at night.’
‘Well, you should have thought of that,’ he said. ‘Did it never enter your head that I might be worried?’
It truly hadn’t, and her eyes told him the same—which only incensed him even further. ‘You, Layla, are the most selfish person I have ever met.’
‘Selfish?’ she shouted. ‘How dare you call me selfish? I bought you a snowglobe.’ She went to get it out of her bag, except Mikael was picking up his keys. ‘Where are you going?’
‘You’ve got a nerve to ask.’
‘Mikael…’
He didn’t answer. Instead he left, and she stood in the lovely suite alone.
She looked out to the dark sky and waited for him to come back.
And waited.
‘Where are you Mikael?’ she said to the streets below the hotel.
She loathed it. And she was starting to understand—because she wasn’t scared for him, she just missed him, and she didn’t like the row that had taken place. She was cross, too, for him texting Zahid—and yet she was starting to glimpse why he had.
Mikael was angry for about another twelve minutes and then he pulled his car over and sat on the edge of the road. The fear that had clutched him all day didn’t come close to the fear he felt as he looked at the clock on his dashboard and saw the time and the date: it dawned on him they were at the halfway mark before Layla returned to her family.
He sat there for a long time, because it took a very long time for him to process it. He had never known love nor loved anyone before.
He had cared for others—sometimes a little, sometimes a lot—but he had never actually known love, and now here it was.
He didn’t want to get closer to her—there was no point, because very soon she would be gone.
When she called he didn’t pounce; he did not want to feel the way he did. But he answered his phone on the third ring.
‘I know it is wrong to call you so late…’
Layla gulped and he closed his eyes, for he did not want to be moved by her distress, and yet his heart twisted as she continued.
‘But it is an emergency of my heart, Mikael. I can’t stop crying.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SUNRISE FOUND MIKAEL back in her bed, but wearing only hipsters this time, with Layla asleep by his side. He inhaled the traces of bergamot in her hair—it was fading.
Nothing had happened last night. Layla had been crying too much and it had taken for ever for her to go to sleep.