A Long Story–2
I smile, a little shy, a little stunned. “Are you, are you married? Do you have kids?”
She laughs, wiping her cheek with a perfectly manicured finger. “No, not yet. My boyfriend’s taking forever to propose, probably because he knows I’d say no.”
She grins, and it’s so contagious that I mirror her.
“I like things the way they are. I want kids eventually, but I haven’t quite landed in that place yet.”
I nod. “What do you do? For work?”
“I’m a private art curator,” she says, eyes lighting up with something fierce and proud. “I work with collectors and galleries around the world. Helps that I can work remotely most of the time, but I travel often.”
“Art. Like dad.”
She smiles widely. “Yeah, it runs in the family.”
I smile again, more relaxed this time. Her eyes drift past me and land on someone behind me. Her lips curve into a knowing smile.
“Is that your boyfriend?” she asks lightly.
My cheeks go hot in a second. I glance over my shoulder.
Zaid is in the foyer, pacing. He’s wearing one of his nicer button–downs, but his hands are stuffed awkwardly in his pockets and he keeps glancing at the ceiling like he’s trying to calm himself down.
His hair’s messy in a way that looks almost intentional. He’s not trying to be hot. He just
- is.
I look back at Elena. “No.”
She arches a brow, following the blush that creeps up my neck. “But you want him to be, don’t you?”
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A Long Story–2
I sigh, dropping my gaze again. “It’s a long story.”
“Well,” she says, pushing up from her chair with a graceful stretch, “it’s a good thing we have the rest of our lives to talk about it.”
She walks to the doorway and turns back to me with a twinkle in her eye.
“Now, introduce me properly, will you?”
I stand like a newborn deer, trembling like a leaf. Zaid tenses when he sees us approach, his eyes immediately finding mine.
“Hey, I just want you to officially introduce you to my aunt,” I whisper as I stand beside
him.
He nods, offering Elena a sweet smile before extending his hand.
They don’t talk much, so we’re out of the house quick.
The moment the front door closes behind us, I let out a long, shaky breath.
Zaid is quiet as he unlocks the car and climbs into the driver’s seat. The engine hums to life, but he doesn’t shift out of park right away.
I glance at him, the side of his jaw tight, his hands gripping the wheel.
“Thank you for coming with me.” I say softly, turning toward him.
He doesn’t look at me yet. Just stares straight ahead.
“I was nervous. Scared, honestly. I don’t think I could’ve walked in there alone.”
Zaid finally turns his head, and his gaze catches mine. There’s so much tension in his
eyes.
He nods once. Still doesn’t speak.
“Are you okay?” I ask, even softer now.
He nods again.
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A Long Story–2
Then, quietly, he reaches across the center console and takes my hand.
My heart stutters.
I don’t say anything. Just watch as his fingers thread between mine like they belong there. His grip is warm. A little rough. Familiar.
I lean back in my seat, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. I rest our joined hands gently in my lap, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, but he’s already pulling out of the driveway, jaw still tight, eyes fixed on the road.
So I don’t push.
I just hold on tighter, smiling despite the ache in my chest, despite the confusion
swimming in my gut.
And I don’t stop smiling the whole way home.
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