Their Save-the-Date Charade, page 15
She gave him a nod, allowing him to lead her off the dance floor and back to their table to grab her sparkly clutch purse.
“Won’t your parents worry about us?” she asked as they walked through the hotel foyer.
“My mom already texted,” he said. “They’re having fun with their friends, and knowing them, that means they won’t be leaving anytime soon.”
“And you’re sure you want to leave without saying hello to them?”
He nodded vigorously, not even bothering to hide that he was eager to have Lulu all to himself right now. Nothing short of a fire in the ballroom would make him go back to see his parents and leave her.
Outside, the city’s bright lights and loud hum greeted them and he welcomed the mild night breeze on his heated face.
“I’ll admit that ballroom dancing was way more fun than I’d thought it would ever be,” she exclaimed breathlessly, all smiles, her chest heaving from the exertion still.
“It usually gets easier with practice.”
“Does it?”
“I’m no professional, and I’ve spent most my adult life dodging these kinds of events, but I picked up the skill anyway.”
Lulu smiled at him before she closed her eyes and tipped her face up to the light breeze, a sigh drifting from her full, glossy red lips. “I can smell the lake from here.”
“We’re close to the Harbourfront, so that’s not surprising. Why don’t we take a walk down there?”
They strolled the streets, chatting easily about their jobs, their families and friends, the celebrities at the gala—everything but what his head and heart truly wanted to discuss. In the leisurely twenty-minute walk to the harbor, Alwan waged an internal battle between what he desired and what he’d always believed wasn’t meant for him.
He didn’t think he could lower his guard long enough to let love creep in.
Yet now that it had, he never wanted it to leave him…
But it had with Hashim, a cynical little voice whispered.
He’d loved his brother so much, and hadn’t ever thought that helping him would lead to Hashim leaving him forever. That kind of betrayal left a mark. A wound. A valuable lesson that trusting others only increased his odds of being let down and catching hurt feelings.
With Lulu, the odds of him getting hurt were even higher because their relationship hadn’t been meant to last. They had both always known that there was an ending.
That the end was soon.
That they probably wouldn’t have a reason to be in each other’s lives again after this.
If he kept this up, Alwan was risking a broken heart again.
And yet all of that hadn’t put enough fear in him to run away. Hadn’t stopped him from touching a hand to her arm and calling out her name when they arrived at the lakefront.
“Luula, wait. As lovely as this all is,” he said, sweeping a hand out to the city towering before them on one side and the dark, glittering water of the lake on the other. “Truthfully, there’s a reason I wanted us out here, alone.”
She laughed, the fluted sound nervous. “Maybe I’ve listened to too much true crime, but is this the part where you kill me by drowning me in the lake?”
He smiled and shook his head slowly.
“Then what? Because you look scarily serious.”
Alwan unbuttoned his dinner jacket and tucked his hands in his trouser pockets. He then faced the water, finding it easier and faster to organize his helter-skelter thoughts when he wasn’t looking at her. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Something I’ve kept from you.”
“Okay, now you’re freaking me out,” she said with another anxious laugh.
Hearing the small thread of fear in her voice nearly had him reconsidering all of this. There’s still a chance to walk this back…
To walk away for good.
As soon as he thought it though, Alwan knew he couldn’t do that.
He’d been thinking about this moment with her all night. Waited patiently for it through the gala and obsessed over every detail as he played out the steps he’d take. And now that he had his opportunity, the idea of letting it slip through his fingers didn’t sit right with him.
I have to tell her.
But first he nudged his chin out at the obsidian lake to the now-dark islands. “Have you ever been to the Island?”
“No, but I’ve always wanted to go. Why?”
“No reason except that every time I look at it, I remember my brother. Hashim and I used to go out there all the time, especially during the summers. First with our parents, but then when we were old enough, they’d let us go on the ferry all on our own.
“We’d pretend we were pirates. The ferry our pirate ship and the island the perfect hideaway for all our treasure.” Alwan clenched his jaw at the memories flooding back, the good and the bad times with Hashim melding in together.
“Life felt…easier then. Like we were in control of our destinies and nothing could hurt us.”
He swallowed, the slow, convulsive pull of his throat giving him all of two seconds to put his brave face on and finish what he’d started. “But that wasn’t true. Hashim was hurting quietly for years after his sports injury. His surgery was successful, but the doctors had only healed him on the outside. Inside, he wasn’t the same. He was suffering and I… I didn’t see it until it was too late.
“I was his brother. I should’ve known. Should have seen the signs.”
“Alwan, I’m so sorry,” she said, her soft voice closer than he realized.
“I am too. But that doesn’t change anything. Because I let him slip through the cracks and didn’t catch him. I failed him. Failed my brother.”
Her hand alighted on his arm, her fingers squeezing him until he finally gave in and looked at her.
“You can’t think that way. You’ll only hurt yourself.”
“I can’t help it though.” His heart twisted in his chest for Hashim and all that his brother was once and had lost to addiction. “This guilt, it’s become a part of me.”
“Alwan…” She gripped his arm with both hands now, her brows pinched together, lovely mouth downturned and eyes darker, rounder and glimmering with sorrow for him.
He didn’t think it could happen, but in that moment, right then and there, it truly felt like Lulu was hurting and grieving almost as much as he was.
When her chin quivered, he cupped her face, smiling down sadly at her. A need to comfort her took hold of him, and not thinking, simply reacting, he leaned into her until his lips settled on her forehead.
She inhaled, tensing a heartbeat before she relaxed, her gentle sigh drifting up to him.
And she sighed again when Alwan wrapped his arms around her, touched his forehead to hers and gazed deeply into her eyes, feeling a serenity he hadn’t in a long time.
“I love you.”
The words fell from his lips far more easily than he imagined they would.
Though she was quiet after he uttered the confession, he knew she’d heard him because her eyes had gone wide.
“I can’t tell you when it happened, and I know it goes completely against what this fake engagement was supposed to be, but…but I can’t stop. I’ve tried. I really have. And apparently, it’s not a faucet I can just shut off at will.”
When she didn’t speak, Alwan began worrying and urged, “Luula, say something…please.”
She blinked, whatever shocked trance she was in wearing off, and even before she pushed her hands on his chest, he knew what was coming.
Letting her go, Alwan watched her carve distance between them and dropped his now-leaden arms and reminded himself to breathe through the thorny pain already vining around his throbbing heart. He’d prepared for this. Knew this was always a fifty-fifty possibility. Steeled himself for it happening.
And yet now that it was, now he was looking at her and seeing her guardedness against him, he realized he could’ve never protected himself from this.
Stupid, he thought. What had he been thinking? That the scenery alone would sway her mind when she’d made it very clear to him and very early on that she didn’t want a relationship again?
Did he really think she would make an exception for him?
I’m so stupid.
Alwan gritted his teeth and clenched and unclenched his fists, his fingers still burning with the memory of holding her a minute ago.
She still hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t even acknowledged his love for her.
He shook his head, but it did nothing to dislodge the hurt and humiliation now taking hold of him. The longer he stood out there, the more the reality of his rejection sank in, and the sharper the heartache became. “Let’s head back,” he said, hating the brusque tone he used but knowing that the anger masked the anguish quickly consuming him.
Arms now wrapped around herself, eyes ever-wide and alert and full of wariness, Lulu nodded silently.
It struck him that the walk back to the hotel was markedly different in tone this time around. Where before they were conversing contentedly about anything and everything, now the atmosphere between them was thickly oppressive with all that they’d left unsaid.
When they arrived back at the upscale historic hotel, Lulu finally ended her silence.
“I’m going to grab a cab.” She was already walking in the direction of the taxi stand outside the hotel.
Her declaration caught him by surprise. They’d arrived together, so he had just assumed that she would catch a ride back with him.
Why would she want to be near you after everything that just happened?
Jaw clenched, Alwan stepped toward her, his offer to drive her home on the tip of his tongue.
But at the last moment he stopped himself. If this was what she desired—if she truly wanted the space apart from him, then he’d respect her wishes. Still, it took all his strength to remain on the curb while Lulu gathered the long skirt of her gorgeous dress and slid into the back of a taxi. He didn’t breathe until the car drove away. Didn’t turn his back and leave until the cab ferrying her from him had melded with downtown traffic.
Now, if only he could turn and walk away from this still-beating love he had for her.
Chapter Ten
TWO WEEKS.
That was the first thought in Alwan’s mind when he woke up to the bluish-gray light of dawn glowing through his bedroom windows.
It’d been a full fourteen days since that fateful night he confessed his love to Lulu. Two of the longest weeks of his life, not only because he hadn’t seen, called or texted her and had taken her silence as a sign to give her all the space she needed, but also because he’d been debating on what it meant for their fake engagement.
Since they’d pushed their deadline up to Labour Day, they had a few weeks left on the clock.
Technically he could hold her to that date. But it hadn’t felt right using it to force his company on her. Though if he was being honest, he’d considered the underhanded tactic. If only to see her…
In the end the better part of him had won out and Alwan had nixed the idea of manipulating her into spending time with him. He even told himself that the distance and time apart would lessen this hungering ache and persistent longing for her.
But he should’ve known that time didn’t really heal wounds.
If it had that power, would he still feel shame and remorse every time he thought of Hashim?
More and more now, he’d been thinking of his runaway brother. He knew it was partly because of Lulu and her rejection, but the other part was finally understanding that a lot of his decisions of late had been influenced by what had happened in the end with Hashim.
Without realizing it, Alwan had allowed his choice to answer his brother’s call and get him away from the addiction treatment center to shape much of his life. From feeling guilty for hiding his role in Hashim’s escape from their parents, to feeling like he’d owed them happiness and giving in to their desire to see him married. All of which then led him to seeking out Lulu and proposing the fake engagement in the first place. Before finally, culminating in him falling hard for her, telling her that he loved her—
And getting my heart broken.
Really, it was all his fault. He couldn’t do anything about Hashim anymore, not when he didn’t even know if his brother was alive or long gone from this world. But he could help Lulu by ending this now.
It would go against their agreement to announce their breakup mutually and together, but he couldn’t ask her to do that after he’d dumped his feelings on her. No, he’d shoulder the blame all on his own. By the time she learned what he had done, the truth will have already come out.
Anyway, it’s not like I haven’t broken any of our rules.
He’d touched and hugged her. Kissed her—albeit only on the forehead, yet still.
More than the physical intimacy they had promised to avoid was the emotional connection they’d made. At least on his part, it had felt like she’d opened up to him and let him get near to her vulnerabilities. And he’d done the same, even coming close to sharing his secret about how it’d been his fault that Hashim had run off and disappeared. He had confided in her. Trusted her.
Loved her.
It hadn’t been enough to change her stance on relationships though.
As he showered, dressed and left his place to drive over to his parents’ home, Alwan ruminated on that and hoped that she’d see ending their fake engagement as the olive branch it was. Maybe this doesn’t have to be the end…
It was that small silver lining he’d clung to as he rang the doorbell and greeted his parents’ housekeeper at the front door of the Tudor-style mansion.
Alwan found his mother and father in the drawing room, the gleaming cherry oak walls and coffered ceiling warmed by vintage-inspired brass wall sconces. His father sat in the lone armchair across the white marble fireplace, a double-wall glass mug full of tea in one hand and a newspaper in the other, his readers perched at the edge of his long, thick nose as usual. His mother sat on the sofa and leaned over the coffee table, peering through a photo album while stacks more were littered on the sofa cushions on either side of her.
They both looked up when he entered.
“Salaam Yumma, Abu,” he said, squeezing his father’s shoulder as he passed behind him and then bending down so his mother could kiss him on the cheek.
She made room for him on the sofa before giving him a curious look. “Although I love when you drop in unannounced, habibi, it also worries me. Is there anything wrong?”
His father lowered the paper he was reading, his bushy graying brows hiked up with intrigue.
Alwan gulped, realizing right then that his intention to tell them the truth might not be as simple as he thought.
“Alwan?” his mother called to him, her hand squeezing his leg, the gesture meant to be comforting but only heightening his guilt.
Choosing cowardice, he said, “No, nothing’s wrong. I… I just wanted to see you both, that’s all.”
“Isn’t that sweet?” his mother gushed, pinching his cheek. “How did we get to be such lucky parents?”
Alwan’s father snorted lightly and was already lifting his paper up, but not before Alwan caught his warm smile.
Their praise swelled his chest with joy, momentarily numbing his guilt at the secrets he kept from them.
Wanting to hold on to the happiness a little longer, Alwan pointed to the photo album open on the glass coffee table. “What are you doing? Rearranging photos?” She had some of the pictures pulled out of the plastic pockets and spread out on the coffee table around a gold tray holding a tea set.
“I was, but then I became distracted,” his mother said, nodding as she poured him a cup of shai.
“I haven’t looked at some of these albums in so long. I almost forgot we took some of these pictures,” she told him once she handed him a teacup.
Picking up one of the albums, Alwan flipped through a few pages and immediately understood what she felt as memories he’d forgotten came flooding back. He smiled and laughed at most of them, reliving the experiences in those frozen stills of his family’s past. Although he should’ve known it was coming, it still gave him pause when he turned another page in the album and saw a younger Hashim staring back up at him.
In the photo he posed in his rugby jersey, the biggest grin on his face.
“He loved playing so much,” his mother reminisced, surprising Alwan because his parents often didn’t speak about Hashim.
And she continued to comment as Alwan looked through more of the album, smiling and sighing and even stroking some of the photos as if she could touch Hashim through them. Remorse constricted his chest, the chains tightening when his mother reached for a tissue and wiped her eyes at one point.
“Yumma,” he quietly said, contrition squeezing his vocal cords.
“It’s fine,” his mother insisted with a sniffle. He might have believed her if her lips weren’t trembling with the tears she was holding back.
His father lowered his newspaper swiftly and set his mug on the coffee table. “Stop looking at those if they’re making you so sad. Put them away, Alwan. Put all of them away,” he said firmly, his scowl fearsome.
Shaking her head, his mother pulled the album away from Alwan gently before he could even consider following his father’s stern instruction.
“There’s no reason to do that. He’s still our son after all.”
His father huffed and flung his hands out. “Son? What son abandons his parents and his younger brother?”
Alwan winced, not so much at his father’s raised voice but the angry hurt in his tone as he hurled the words.
“Hashim is our son. No matter what happened, nothing will ever change that for me,” his mother said, a fire in her teary eyes as she clutched the album to her chest, hugging the only connection to her other son that remained.
“Do what you want, but all of this—” his father stabbed his finger at the albums on the coffee table and the sofa “—all it does is bring us pain that I want no part of.”
His mother covered her face with her hands and his father’s pale brown cheeks were so red that Alwan worried he’d pop a vein.
