Nothing Without You

XIV: The Sweetness of Honeycombs

Now | Adelaide

He signed the contract.

A part of me thought he never would. It wasn't a dumb thing to think because anyone would've assumed the same thing.

He might have said he hated me and wanted absolutely nothing to do with me, but his looks, his voice, and his lips all said something else.

What an idiot. If he thought this—us—could turn into something again, he was a fucking idiot.

I'd rather burn myself alive than be his.

"I'm scared to ask what you're thinking about." Umaima walked over to the couch with a bowl of popcorn in her hand. She wore her traditional Pakistani clothing, with the duppata draped across her chest.

If she knew what I was thinking, she'd smack me on the back of my head and call me an idiot.

"I have to plan a wedding," I replied. "That's what I'm thinking about."

"You're thinking about planning a wedding and not the man you're marrying?" She chuckled at that and said, "Sure." I'll believe you."

"Christian is a tool I need to use, nothing else."

"Really?"  Yes.  Really.  Was it so hard to believe that all I wanted from Christian was his resources and his reputation? If I had him, it would be so incredibly easy to slip through the cracks of each board member and eviscerate them from the inside out. If Aunt's company went down the drain, it would be okay. I wouldn't care. Just because I was a woman, a young, introverted, weak woman; they did those despicable acts under my nose and I had no fucking clue.

"Addie," Umaima grabbed one of my hands into her palms and stared deeply at me. Her brown eyes warmed the second they felt the cold itch of my blue ones. "Tell me what's going on." "What are you doing?"

"I" couldn't breathe. I was used to the silence of my heartbeats and the chaos of my mind; sharing them and burdening someone else with those thoughts never crossed my mind. Umaima knew how much I hid from her; she didn't ask, but she knew. She must've hated me for it, for never being open with her or using her or confiding in her the way she did with me. "I need you to trust me."

"Of course I trust you," her other hand covered mine.  "There's no one I trust more than you."

"Then trust that I know what I'm doing." A weak smile etched smoothly on my face. This was the first time in a really, really long time that I knew exactly what I was doing.

"Okay," she sighed. "I'll let you be until the wedding, but afterwards," she pointed an accusing finger at me. "You're telling me everything."

I nodded in agreement and said, "Deal."

Comfortable silence engulfed us in heavy waves, other than the sound of Umaima crunching on popcorn.

The door then opened, and the sound of chaos ensued.

Hasan held onto a crying Zahaar, wailing in his arms. My heart swooned and struggled at the sight of both of them. "Rough day?"  I asked.

Hasan expressed his feelings with a vulgar gesture behind Zahaar's back. I would have laughed if I didn't feel bad for him. I couldn't imagine being a single parent at Hasan's age.

"He threw up on another kid and the other parent yelled at him." Umaima walked over to them and took a crying Zahaar from Hasan. "I got into a fight with that parent," he sighed.

"No one has the right to yell at your kid; you did good, Bhai." Umaima coddled Zahaar in her arms, jumping him up and down and making funny baby noises so he would stop crying. "I know what I did was right, but I shouldn't have yelled at him in front of Zahaar." Hasan sat on the couch in front of me and started rubbing his temples.