53 Letters For My Lover by Leylah Attar Read Free Book Online Page B

these plans.” Bob unrolls a large sheet of paper on the dining table. “I was just showing Troy some commercial properties for his new office.”
    “I really have to get going, Bob.” Troy puts his glass down. “Nice to see you again, Hafez. You too, Shayda.”
    I get why he’s leaving, and it twists my gut.
    I don’t want anything to do with you, Troy.
    In a white-button down shirt, navy sweater and tweed jacket, he’s a far cry from the laid back t-shirt-and-jeans Troy I’ve come to know, but just as devastating. Even more so with the cool distance in his eyes.
    “Come on, Rachel,” he says.
    I notice her for the first time, a leggy blond lounging on the sofa, in a chic black turtleneck and pants.
    “Are you sure you can’t stay?” asks Elizabeth.
    “We’re spending Thanksgiving with Rachel’s parents.”
    Okay. So maybe I was wrong about why he’s leaving. It has more to do with Rachel. Less to do with Shayda. And that would also explain the more conservative outfit. It’s ‘meet the parents’ night. The knife in my gut twists deeper.
    “Troy!” Natasha and Zain zero in on him.
    “Hello, mateys!” He picks up Zain and refrains from ruffling Natasha’s hair, which earns him bonus points.
    “Captain.” Zain gives him a smart salute.
    “You’re not leaving, are you?” Natasha follows him to the door.
    “Afraid so, princess.” He puts Zain down and helps Rachel with her coat.
    “Wait.” Natasha rushes into the kitchen and comes back out with something wrapped in a paper towel. “We made brownies.”
    “And you remembered?”
    “Uh-huh. You like them.”
    “Thank you, sweetheart.” He kneels and takes them from her.
    “I’ll follow up on the downtown unit,” says Bob.
    “That would be great. Talk to you soon.” I hear before the door shuts.
    Elizabeth peeks out from the window “Wow. Thanksgiving with the parents. Is it serious?”
    “Stop spying, Liz.”
    “I’m not spying.” She lets the curtain fall. “I just hope that boy finds someone nice.”
    “I think he rather enjoys playing the bachelor,” says Jayne. “He moved back, what—three, four months ago? And his social life is already off the charts. He’s made it into more gossip columns than I have in as many years.”
    “Lots of buzz in the business section too,” adds Matt.
    “Are we going to sit around talking about Troy all night or are we going to get some dinner?” Bob starts putting the papers away. “You know,” he says to me, “he’s thrilled with the loft. I’m surprised he didn’t come to you with this.”
    “He was your client to begin with,” I say.
    Bob smiles and pats me on the shoulder. “You’ve got a great gal here, Hafez.”
    Hafez lights up. I don’t get to see that face too often, but every time I do, it aches like an old wound on a rainy day.
    That night, I pull out a lace baby-doll from the back of my closet. It feels daring and sexy. The bright pink complements my skin and brown eyes. I spritz on some perfume and step out of the bathroom, feeling a little self-conscious.
    The lights are off and Hafez is already in bed. I slip between the covers and snuggle up to him.
    “I’m so glad you made it home for our anniversary.”
    “Me too,” he replies.
    “I’ve missed you.” I nuzzle closer and let my hand slide lower.
    “Hmmm. You have missed me.” He turns to look at me with soft wonder. “How did I get so lucky?”
    I can’t remember the last time we had sex. Months have turned into years, and the years have melded into a hazy point beyond recall. But tonight I want to burn for him. I want to drive away thoughts of anyone else but him. I want it here, where it belongs, where it’s good and right and pure.
    He slides my panties off and turns me on my tummy.
    “No, not like this,” I say. “I don’t want it like this any more, Hafez.”
    A pained expression crosses his face.
    I’ve asked for too much. I know. But I need this. I really, really need this.
    And so he