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I remembered that day like it was yesterday. It was the summer before I started law school. My former professors at Harvard had offered me an internship with an “international relief organization,” saying it was the perfect stepping stone for my future career in international law. Needless to say, I’d learned more than I’d bargained for or expected and entered a world I hadn’t known existed.

I wiped the perspiration on the back of my neck and held the towel to my face. “I know.”

“Now back to the subject you wanted to change. Your man wants you. You want your man. The least you could do is reduce the tension everyone feels whenever the two of you are in the same room.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I threw the towel to the ground, grabbed my water bottle, and then gulped down the cool liquid.

“You are the furthest thing from traditional. What are you waiting for?”

“First Samina and now you. Does everyone know I’m not fucking Ashur?” I ran a hand over my heated face.

“I’m your security.”

I frowned, picked up my towel, and threw it at him. “That’s your answer?”

“It’s a better answer than anything you’re giving me.” He stood, going over to the corner where his gym bag was and pulling out a jacket. “Besides, I know the answer. I just want to see if you’ll admit it.”

I crossed my arms across my body. “Oh, wise one, please tell me what is my reason for not sleeping with my fiancé?”

He walked toward the stairs that led to the kitchen. He set a foot on the bottom step, stared me in the eyes, and smiled. “Because you’re in love with him and you’re worried he’ll break your heart again once he learns all your secrets.”