Sighing, I steered out from the shelter of the trees and drove off, determined to get home, take a shower and put him out of my mind for the time being.
~~~
Zi
I stopped short on the outskirts of the woods when I saw aunt Jasmine standing on the grass just a few feet away with her eyes fixed on some spot amongst the trees. I didn't have time to think or even blink before she shifted her attention towards me.
Her expression mirrored mine, part surprise and part confusion. Clearing my throat, I stomped out of the area, brushing some low-hanging tree branches aside and walking over to her.
"Hey, aunt Jasmine," I said casually. "What're you doing here?"
She gave me an assessing look. "Surveying my property," she replied just as casually. "What're you doing here, Zi?"
I laughed lightly and said, "Oh err...I left some stuff back there when I went camping last week."
There was a beat of silence during which she glanced at my empty hands and I wanted to bite my tongue.
I swallowed a little. "Um...I mean, I thought I left some stuff back there but...turns out I was wrong," I lied again.
She studied me for a minute and then smiled at me, her dark gaze becoming unusually soft. "Ziad. You've always been one of the good ones," she stated quietly. "I'd hate to see that this world got to you too."
Her tendency to make cryptic comments was another weird thing about her. Sometimes, she could be really blunt like Aaliyah but other times, she spoke in riddles or began to sound philosophical which really ended up confusing me. However, she seemed to be onto something this time and I thought it would be best to get the hell out of dodge.
Returning her smile, I tried to brush past but she held me back with a hand on my arm. When our eyes met again, my heart started to pound really hard.
Jasmine flicked a cool gaze over my upper body and said, "Your shirt is inside out. Maybe try fixing that before showing up at the field."
I didn't know what to say as she let go of my arm and turned back to the woods. Knowing her, she was probably over there trying to clear her head or find some kind of inspiration for her writing away from people and things. My face was burning as I took off my t-shirt and put it back on properly in case my sudden appearance from the direction of the woods wearing an inside-out shirt caused the people at the field to ask more questions which I would have difficulty answering since lying was clearly not my forte. The soccer field was about a hundred yards away on the left but due to a line of thick hedges nearby, we weren't visible to the others.
I was about to walk off when I heard the car. Nobody came this way except for our gardener but then he didn't really care about what went on in the woods as long as his hedges were in immaculate condition. She was about fifty yards away on the narrow dirt road that circled out of the woods and joined onto a side road near her property. Even though the woods were thick, you would still be able to catch glimpses of a moving vehicle.
Skye drove a navy blue sedan. Lots of people did but then, not lots of people with navy blue sedans lived next door to us. Which was exactly where that car was headed.
I turned to follow its progress, seeing flashes of navy blue amongst the green and yellow shrubbery every now and then. Aunt Jasmine was doing the same thing. Even though my brain told me to leave at once and not look back, my feet seemed to have frozen on the spot. After about a whole minute, the car finally appeared towards the far end of the woods and then headed towards the side road. Even from this great distance, anyone who knew Skye would recognise her as the driver.
I'd messed up. I had been counting on the fact that I wouldn't run into anyone while returning home because I knew from experience that nobody ever came this way. But then I'd not taken simple mathematics into account. There was such a thing called probability and no matter what the percentage of such an encounter occurring was, I shouldn't have overlooked that.
No one would have been able to see that car leave the woods unless they were standing at the exact position where we were standing due to the rows of hedges surrounding our main property.
Why did this have to happen to me now when everything had been so perfect?
Jasmine finally twisted to look back at me after she was done making sure the driver of that car really was Skye. I stared back at her and felt my world start to crumble in that moment. Yeah, I admired her and respected her but Aaliyah sometimes had a point. Aunt Jasmine didn't love us. As far as she was concerned, we were just two kids that her lover had decided to raise and she had no choice but to tolerate that.
She would destroy everything. She'd tell Abbu what she saw or mention it to Skye and my life would be ruined. Tears welled up in my eyes and I blinked and dashed at them when she became nothing more than a dark, blurry figure against the backdrop of the woods. Her eyes remained fixed on me for a long time before she turned her back on me once more.
"All the other players are already there training," was what she chose to say to me. "Don't keep your Abbu waiting, Ziad. Go home."
I was too bogged down by fear to respond to her. My mouth was dry and my heartbeats erratic. She knew. She didn't have to question me or voice her observations but after living with her for so many years, I didn't have to hear those things to conclude that she knew I had been in the woods with Skye for reasons which were far from innocent.
****
Chapter 14
Armaan
I always got angry if a person was late or misused their time in a manner which directly affected my own schedule. It was something I couldn't control about myself. I hated the anxiety that came with not knowing why I had to wait. Why wasn't I informed beforehand? Why was someone deliberately wasting my time if he or she had something better to do? Jasmine liked to tease me about having 'weird issues with time'. She also loved to set me off on occasion by telling me she had to be somewhere but she was going to show up fashionably late.
I was used to that kind of thing with her. But not with Ziad. He'd done it a few times over the years and then learned to avoid such behaviour after seeing how hard it became for me to keep my temper in check. I was also the 'breaker' in my family. When I got too pissed off, I ended up throwing and breaking things. They loved me despite all of this. I would never hurt them no matter how terrible I was at anger management.
Ziad showed up next to me as I watched the players of the local soccer team I sponsored, the Pavian Bladers, begin a friendly match with the Under-19 recruits for this year in preparation for the upcoming game this weekend. A game that my own son needed to prepare for as well. Usually, I wouldn't have to remind him of this. But these days, he seemed to need a lot of reminders. And I wasn't just referring to soccer.
"Hey, Abbu, I'm really sorry. Something came up. I didn't mean to be late," Ziad said to me in an apologetic tone while I stood there with my arms folded and watched the game unfold.
"Yes. You just texted me, remember?" I replied curtly, trying not to grit my teeth.
Something came up. I hated that excuse the most. I mean, what exactly came up? And if something did come up then why not just let me know straight away so I wouldn't have to stand around waiting for him to show up?
Jacob was doing really well on the field. But not as good as Ziad. Ziad was the best soccer player in the Pavia U19 team. He'd won a trophy for that last season and it made me so damn proud every time I looked at it. To know that my son was excellent at something which I myself had always been so passionate about.
I had coached both these boys at home to the best of my abilities when I'd seen them showing interest in the game from an early age and it was amazing to watch them succeed. They were the only two boys from their school to be selected in the local team try-outs. But only one of them seemed to be taking this achievement seriously.
"I guess I'll just sit this one out then," Ziad mumbled when he realised that a reserve player had already taken up his midfielder position and was performing quite well against the older team players.
"Good idea." I'd cool down eventually but for now, that dratted frown wouldn't leave my forehead.
The game continued for ten more minutes and the Bladers scored a goal but the U19 team put up a good defence. I started to enjoy it; the adrenaline rush, the anticipation and pure joy that came with watching a soccer game played by a team I knew and liked.
Some of the parents of these kids had shown up as well, cheering them on loudly because they were rambunctious Italians also watching one of their favourite sports. I kept an eye on Izzy and Ben as the match progressed. I wasn't sure where Skye was but I'd invited all of them over to hang out with us and only the kids had shown up. Jacob was too focused on the game to even notice if his siblings suddenly disappeared.
It was a hot afternoon and my throat felt parched all of a sudden so I bent to retrieve a can of soda from the cooler at my feet. My actions slowed when I glanced over at Ziad sitting on the grass nearby with his head between his upraised knees and his hands in his hair. He wasn't even paying attention to what was going on around him.
I tapped his shoulder with the intention of handing him the soda but I was taken aback by the painful expression on his face which he quickly tried to hide from me. Something was wrong. So very wrong. I hadn't seen him look so lost since that difficult time fourteen years ago when I'd first brought him home.
The emotions that tugged at my heartstrings overwhelmed me as I gazed at him. He was clearly in pain but unwilling to reveal it to me because of how unapproachable I had been earlier.
"Ziad," I said gently and lowered myself to rest on my heels in front of him. "What's wrong?"
His jaw was clenched as he shook his head, avoiding my gaze. "Nothing, I'm just not feeling well," he mumbled.
I frowned at him. He never lied to me so why did I get the feeling he was doing it now?
Seeing him so tortured was a strange and difficult experience. I'd ignored the signs these past couple of weeks. He'd always had a friendly and cool personality but lately, there were these uncharacteristic mood swings. And then there were those hints from his teachers whom I knew as friends letting me know that he seemed distracted during his classes. His lack of interest in training because I'd noticed that even when he showed up on time, he spent much of his breaks on his phone, texting.
The only conclusion I could draw from all of this was that my son was in love. What I didn't understand was why he felt the need to hide it. I would have liked for him to share something this significant with me.
"So...is she someone I know?" I asked him with a slight smile, hoping my guess was right and it would open up the lines of communication.
But Ziad reacted like I'd morphed into a ghost or something. His eyes went wide with fear and he gulped before scrambling to his feet. "I just told you I'm not feeling well," he said to me, appearing frustrated. "Why are you asking me that? You know I don't have a girlfriend."
Shouts and cheers erupted from the field behind me but I didn't turn to look at who had scored the next goal. My focus was entirely on my son. I got to my feet as well and noted just how disturbed he appeared. This wasn't something he was comfortable talking about with me and even though it hurt, I knew I would have to broach the topic with more care next time. We needed some father-son bonding. Another thing he hadn't been focusing on lately.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed a little. "Go inside and rest if you want. There's some leftover chicken from lunch. Eat something. We'll talk later, okay."
He was a young man now. Eighteen year olds were considered adults by the law, right? The law was funny like that. Especially here in Italy. I remembered being eighteen. Hell, I remembered being a year older than that and still not having enough sense to make good decisions. I also remembered whoring myself out to a forty year old dominant for an entire year because she offered me twelve million dollars and I thought I was man enough to handle that level of sexual exploration.
I badly wanted to believe that my son was stronger than that and a lot more sensible but he appeared so fragile to me at that moment. So vulnerable. Something was eating at him and I was determined to find out what. As soon as I figured out the best way to go about it.
~~~
Zi
I couldn't take it anymore. Waiting for the bomb to drop. Waiting for her to say something to someone and take my newfound happiness away. And Skye. Oh, God...Skye...
I'd promised her I'd never let anyone find out about us. This was going to hurt her so bad. I didn't go to see her that night because I was too wound up and didn't want to scare her as well. The thought of losing her was so unbearable to me. If only I hadn't taken that route. If only aunt Jasmine hadn't been out there. If only I'd appeared much, much later and avoided being discovered. So many ifs...
Jasmine was at the breakfast bar busy writing something the next morning and nobody else was around. I decided I was done with cowering. I was going to man up and try to fix this situation so that Skye's reputation would remain unscathed. So I didn't let myself think. I didn't allow myself to lose courage. I simply strode over and placed my hands flat on the counter in front of her.
"You can't tell anyone," I pretty much ordered her in a strong voice.
I had never used that tone with her before. I didn't think I had ever used that tone with any grown up no matter how upset I had been with them. It made me cringe a bit inside, hearing myself speak like that.
Aunt Jasmine looked up from her notepad and seemed to be daring me to say one more word to her in that disrespectful manner. I didn't back down though. There was so much at stake. Right now, it felt like a Skye-and-me-against-the-world situation. A situation I was determined to bring under my control.
"And what if I do decide to tell someone?" she questioned me in a cool voice. "What are you going to do about it, Ziad? Kill me and bury my body out there in the woods?"
I gave her an incredulous look. There it was again. Her weird notions. Did she really think I was going to kill her? I looked at her notepad and then back at her with a worried expression.
"Aunt Jasmine...maybe you should slow down on the writing for a bit," I told her.
She put down her pen and reached out to grab an apple from the basket on the counter. "Get me a knife, will you?"
I walked over to the cupboards on the opposite side and retrieved a small knife for her which she then began to use to peel the skin of the apple in a deliberately slow and threatening manner. It made me shudder slightly. My Abbu was actually crazy about this woman who sometimes seemed to toe the line between reality and sanity herself. Wow.
"Please don't tell anyone," I begged her suddenly, grabbing a stool to sit down and pinning her with an earnest look. "Especially not Abbu. Please aunt Jasmine."
The gangster approach wasn't going to work with her. Besides, I couldn't keep up the act for very long.
She popped a piece of apple in her mouth (using the knife blade), chewed for a while and then calmly pointed the knife at me. "Much better," she uttered in a relaxed tone.
I let out a sigh, wondering what it was going to take for her to keep my secret. I was prepared to beg every single day.
"So what's really going with you and Skye?" she asked me casually while cutting another slice of the apple. "I'd have brushed it off as you being a horny teenager because frankly, I don't particularly care about who's sleeping with whom but...I don't think that's all there is to it in this case. Am I right?"
I swallowed at her question, unable to deny it. She'd seen it plastered all over my face yesterday afternoon. If I tried to insult her intelligence by downplaying the situation, she might not take it too well.
"I don't know how to make you understand," I began sincerely. "She means the world to me. This isn't something sordid or fun for me, aunt Jasmine. I really care about her. And I promised her I'd protect her secret. None of this is her fault so please...just...just tell me you won't do anything to jeopardize Skye's reputation."
I might have said the wrong thing because
she stopped concentrating on the apple and gave me her full attention with a definite scowl on her face. "Zi. You're a teenage boy. She's fucking forty years old. You're not the one who's supposed to be looking out for her."
She sounded really angry. I hadn't ever heard her get mad about something before so it came as a surprise to me.
"You don't know her," I said in a desperate tone. "Age is just a number. It doesn't matter."
"It does matter," aunt Jasmine argued in a tight voice. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. You're going to get your heart broken, Zi. Because she won't choose you."
It wasn't like I wanted her to choose me. Or did I? My body grew tense at the thought. Just being with her had been enough for me and I hadn't wanted to dwell on the future but the way aunt Jasmine confidently stated that last fact made me feel the sting of it.
I had already known I was falling for Skye. But we'd only just started this thing and I didn't want to put any pressure on her. Still, I did believe she cared for me. Maybe it had started out as lust for her but she was so sweet to me these days and she loved spending most of her free time with me. I didn't think that Skye would want to lose me either. Not when I made her so happy.
"You don't know that," I muttered into the silence of the kitchen with a hint of a challenge in my tone. "If she was really happy with her husband, she wouldn't be doing this with me." I took a deep breath, suddenly feeling braver than I had yesterday.
I hadn't known what I wanted two weeks ago when I had first become involved with her. But I knew it now. I loved Skye Madison. I loved my best friend's mom. I didn't care that it was wrong or inappropriate anymore. I wasn't going to be ashamed of my feelings. If Skye was truly happy with me, then I was willing to go up against the world for this woman.
Jasmine was studying me with a wary expression in her dark eyes. Then she slowly lowered the knife and the apple and said, "Fine. If you don't believe me, ask her. Ask her if she would leave her husband, her kids and her home behind to be with an eighteen year old boy. Ask her before it is too late."
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