Other Side

28 | Loves Me, Loves Me Not

"Talia—Talia, wake up."

Some incoherent blend of English and Arabic met her ears, coaxing her out of her dreamless sleep. Talia pried her eyes open, but an array of pixels met her line of vision, head pounding as she tried to match the voice to a familiar face.

"Yalla, habibti, you don't want to miss your flight."

Talia dragged herself to a sitting position and slowly made out her grandmother's concerned features. Her brow furrowed when Teta's hand left her face, allowing her grandmother to stare into her puffy and bloodshot eyes. Talia parted her lips to speak, perhaps even explain herself, but her mouth felt like she'd spent the last twelve hours in the Sahara.

"Are you feeling sick?" Teta asked, feeling her forehead, then her cheeks. "You look a little paler than usual."

"No, I'm fine," she rasped, kicking her sweaty sheets off her body. Through an uncontrollable yawn, she threw in a little fib, "I think it's nearing that time of the month, that's all."

Using that tired feminine excuse was easier than admitting she'd downed three glasses of wine, whose effect would have been less profound had she been less of the lightweight she thought she wasn't. Usually a sleepy drunk, she'd cried her eyes out over Teta's adopted grandson until the early the morning, feeling more pathetic by the minute.

"You know what, while you get ready, I'll go make you some sage tea. There's nothing a cup can't fix."

Talia heaved a sigh of relief when her well-meaning grandmother hurried out of her room, collapsing into her mattress again. Face buried into a pile of pillows, she let out a muffled scream at the thought of over eight hours of brokenhearted travel. She couldn't even remember where her layover was. Newark? Chicago? She didn't care either, because all she wanted to do was close her eyes and open them up again in her childhood bedroom in Santa Clara.

After another five-minute nap, she pulled herself out of bed and braved the mirror. Her reflection mocked her—puffy, wild curls, dull brown eyes enveloped in swollen lids, chapped lips etched into a deep frown.

She looked, for lack of better words she simply did not know, like shit. Yet as fast as she'd descended into misery, she pulled herself out of it, deciding if she'd gotten over a guy once, she could do it again.

But this wasn't the same at all, and her heart knew it.

At least, it was motivation enough to freshen up in the bathroom, pull on a pair of comfortable black pants and a tight long sleeve, before working on the mess that was her face. With the last pat of powder and swipe of mascara, she felt overdone, especially for a transcontinental flight, but the demons on the outside were a hell of a lot easier to deal with than the ones on the inside.

"Am I looking at the same person?" Teta laughed as she pushed a small cup of tea into Talia's hands in the kitchen. "I didn't think you'd have any last-minute plans before leaving today."

"I don't," she said, sliding onto a barstool. "Just thought I'd look pretty. You know, in case I meet my future husband on the flight home."

"I didn't think you'd have to rely on chance again." Speaking through careful knife strokes, she added, "Unless I was far too optimistic."

Talia stared down at the brown liquid until it blurred before her eyes. "It wasn't just you. I think I finally understand pessimists, Teta."

"You know, I once felt just like you." Back to the counter, she let out a tired sigh and gazed at the gold wedding band on her left hand. "There wasn't much pressure for girls to pursue higher education back when I was growing up. So, while your grandfather chased after his fancy college diploma in America, I stayed behind with my parents, working a miserable job as a kindergarten teacher, mostly so I could earn money to collect romance novels. I remember watching as friend after friend, cousin after cousin, book character after book character married the love of her life, while I was stuck wondering why my heart still wanted a man thousands of miles away." She cracked a small smile, eyes lost in another world. "Maybe because we hadn't always been that far apart, so during every lonely moment, I could convince myself the days of our distance were numbered."