Pride and Consequence

by Altonya Washington

  The entire lower level was dark, with the exception of a smattering of candles. They flickered wildly and cast interesting, unusual patterns on the drapes and cream walls of the dining room.

  “Malik?” Zakira called in a nervous voice. She cleared her throat and walked a bit farther into the room.

  Malik suddenly appeared behind her. His large hands circled her waist as he pulled her back against his tall, chiseled form. “Thanks for coming down so fast,” he whispered against her neck.

  Zakira turned in his arms and stared up at him. “What are you doing? We’re supposed to open in—”

  “We’re gonna be closed tonight.”

  “Closed?” Zakira cried, shoving her hands against his chest. “We can’t just close. It’s Christmas Eve, remember?”

  Malik crossed his arms over his stylish burgundy shirt and waited for Zakira to end her tirade before he stepped forward. “I remember, which is why we’re closing. Could I please get you to sit and be quiet?”

  Zakira complied, turning to the small, round table in the far corner of the room. It had been lavishly set for two, something right out of romantic movie.

  For the first few moments, the two of them filled their plates with food and their glasses with champagne. Zakira helped herself to an abundance of the bubbly amber liquid. Malik watched her closely. Obviously he didn’t care for the amount she downed.

  “Oooops, excuse me,” she whispered, pressing her fingers against her lips when a small hiccup escaped her.

  Malik simply reached across the table and removed the glass from her fingers. Zakira immediately reached out for it, anger on her face.

  “Listen, Malik,” she began, pointing a finger at him, “I think I deserve something to make it through the night.”

  “I don’t want you drunk tonight,” he told her.

  “You don’t want?” Zakira asked in disbelief, her eyes wide as saucers. “I don’t give a damn about what you want. After what you did—”

  “Hell, Zaki, how long are you going to punish me for that?” Malik snapped.

  “You just have no idea…” her voice trailed off in a defeated tone.

  Malik leaned back in his chair and ran one hand across his face. “Zaki, I want you back. I want us back the way we were.”

  “But we’ve changed,” Zakira cried. “When you decided to cut me out of your life, you changed everything between us and we can’t go back.”

  “Do you still love me?”

  Zakira squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “That’s not fair.”

  “Can you answer me?”

  “Malik, please, that has nothing to do with what we’re going through now. You want things to be the same and they can’t be. They just can’t be.”

  “Why not?” Malik demanded, his grayish stare searching her face. “I’m alive, I’m healthy. I know you miss the way we used to be. Why can’t you…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish.

  Zakira held her forehead in her palm and sighed. “Malik, if you’re trying to repair our marriage, this isn’t the way,” she wearily informed him.

  Malik wanted to respond, but one look at the tears sparkling in her eyes against the glow of the candlelight rendered him speechless.

  Zakira headed to the office early on Christmas morning. She left Malik at their home in front of the den TV where he’d fallen asleep the night before. Unable to stand another emotional confrontation, she decided not to disturb him. At the office, she managed to dive into her work, forcing her problems to the back of her mind. Around 9:00 a.m., a knock sounded on her office door.

  “Come in,” she called, wondering who else would possibly think of coming into the restaurant on Christmas. When she looked up and saw Tree standing in the doorway, she was shocked. “If you’re looking for Malik—”

  “No, it’s you I wanted to see. Do you have a minute?” he asked, watching her nod before he walked into the room.

  When Tree pulled a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his stylish beige pin-striped suit, Zakira frowned.

  “Have Eddie here today at 1:00 p.m.”

  Zakira scanned the contents of the paper, seeing an address. “What for?”

  The look in Tree’s deep midnight gaze was close to pleading. “Just have her there, all right, Z?”

  “Tree, I don’t know.”

  Tree laughed and stepped closer to the desk. “I’m not going to hurt her.”

  Zakira smiled in spite of herself. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not. You really love her, don’t you?” she asked, watching the subdued look on Tree’s handsome face turn serious.

  “You have no idea how much,” he said.

  Zakira glanced at the paper again and nodded. “I’ll have her there,” she promised.

  The relieved smile that tugged at Tree’s mouth brought a boyish gleam to his face. “Thanks, Z.”

  Silence settled between them. Finally Tree tried to dissolve the tension.

  “Zakira, I don’t want what happened to keep coming between us—”

  “You know what, Tree?” Zakira interrupted as she walked from behind her desk. “All that mess is in the past as far as I’m concerned.”

  Tree’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Are you sure?”

  “I am. I can’t fault you for trying to be a good friend. You got caught in the middle, trying to do right by us both. I’m sorry we put you there.”

  Unable to say anything more, Tree just shrugged. He held his hand out to Zakira, who quickly stepped forward. They hugged each other for the longest time.

  “Z? What’s goin’ on? I thought we were going out for lunch?”

  Zakira glanced at Eddie and shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll have lunch.”

  The frown on Edwina’s face grew deeper. “You’re sure? Girl, where are we going?”

  “We’re here,” Zakira announced. “Wow,” she breathed, staring out over the dashboard.

  Eddie turned to look out the passenger window. Her gaze widened when she saw the lovely country cottage nestled among a slew of snow-capped bushes and tall trees.

  “Zakira, where are we?”

  “Let’s find out.” Zakira suggested, getting out of the car. She felt a great deal of happiness for Eddie and Tree. Happy they would finally be together.

  Eddie smoothed her hands across the gorgeous tailored lavender suit she wore. When Zakira walked by her, she grabbed her arm. “All right, Z, start talkin’. What’s all this about?”

  “Eddie, can we just go inside and see? Please?”

  Edwina watched her sister a minute longer, then followed her up the gravel driveway to the oak door of the stone cottage.

  The door was open and when the two women walked inside, they were stunned. The delightful room was cozily decorated and looked very intimate. There was a crackling fire in the brick fireplace, cushioned mauve couches were covered with throw pillows and afghans, cream-colored ceramic lamps gave off warm golden light and plants created an atmosphere right out of a fairy tale.

  Zakira and Eddie exchanged glances, but before either of them could say a thing, a side door opened. A short, gray-haired gentleman in minister’s attire appeared along with Tree and Malik.

  It all came together in an instant for Edwina. Her crystal clear gaze grew teary the moment she saw Tree.

  Zakira’s heartbeat sounded madly in her ears. Her eyes were focused solely on Malik.

  As Reverend Raymond Willis took his position a few feet in front of the fireplace, Tree stepped over to Eddie. Cupping her oval face in his huge hands, he kissed her mouth. “Will you please marry me now?”

  Eddie smiled at the soothing deep sound of the words. “Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “Yes, yes, yes…”

  Reverend Willis cleared his throat. “Are we ready to begin?” he asked, a smile on his face as he watched the couple totally absorbed with one another.

  Taking her hand in his, Tree pulled Edwina with him to stand before the minister. Malik and Zakira didn’t speak, but took their pl
aces next to their friends. The ceremony was lovely, although quite short. Soon Eddie and Tree were pronounced husband and wife.

  “Trekel, you may kiss your bride,” Reverend Willis stated.

  Tree wasted no time drawing Eddie’s slender frame against his larger one. Dipping his head, he kissed her deeply. Eddie moaned softly, her fingers grasping the lapels of his dark suit and returning the kiss as though she were starved for the taste of him.

  Reverend Willis stepped away from the couple and walked over to speak briefly with Malik and Zakira, who escorted him to the front door.

  “Tree’s somethin’ else, huh?” Malik asked, once he closed the door behind Reverend Willis.

  “Mmm-hmm,” Zakira lightly agreed, turning to watch the happy couple feed each other from the buffet.

  Malik’s seductive stare slid over his wife’s tiny form encased in the clinging powder-blue dress she wore. “It meant a lot to him for you to forgive him.”

  Zakira bowed her head briefly before turning to face him. “Well, I realized Tree wasn’t the one to blame.”

  “Ah,” Malik said, leaning his head back. “That would be me.”

  “You got it.”

  Malik chuckled, the dreads brushing his wide shoulders. Zakira didn’t mind, since his laughter helped take her mind off the sexual tension that constantly snapped between them.

  “Malik!” Eddie shouted, hurrying toward him. They hugged, and she kissed his cheek. “Thanks for being here.”

  “I’m glad I could be, love. You be happy, all right?” he ordered.

  Eddie pulled away and looked at Tree who was standing next to Zakira. “I will,” she promised. Her exquisite gaze slid to her stepsister’s face and she took her hand in a firm grip. “Can I talk to you?” she requested, leaving her husband and Malik in the living room.

  Eddie hugged herself in the plush bedroom, where Tree and Malik had hidden earlier with the minister. “Girl, I can’t believe this! Did you know he was going to do this?”

  Zakira raised her hands defensively. “I had no idea. He just told me to get you here.”

  Eddie was practically beaming. She rushed over and hugged Zakira. “I’m so happy,” she sighed.

  “You deserve it,” Zakira whispered, patting her back.

  “So do you.”

  “Eddie—”

  “Z, look, I know Malik was wrong for doing what he did, but I wish you two could just get back what you had.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll even get close to that,” Zakira admitted. She pulled away from Eddie and took a seat on the bed.

  “Oh, honey, don’t say that,” Eddie urged, joining her sister on the bed.

  “Why not, Eddie? It’s the truth. Malik says he wants to set things right, but I don’t think he has any idea how much he hurt me. He thinks I’m just mad and it’s nothing serious. I’m just supposed to be glad he’s alive—which I am. But I don’t think his mission to ‘set things right’ involves him explaining, apologizing or something. Something to tell me how he could do this…if he’d do it again.”

  “Ah, babe,” Eddie soothed, pulling Zakira close. “So that’s it? Sweetie, have you told him how you feel?”

  Zakira swallowed. “I can’t tell him like I’m telling you.”

  Eddie frowned. “Why not?”

  “He’ll think that all this time I’ve just been pretending to be this great independent businesswoman when I’m the same weakling I was before.”

  “You were never a weakling.” Eddie firmly corrected. “Honey you really need to talk to your husband about this. You know you do. Let him know how you feel or you’ll never get past all this and rebuild your marriage.”

  Zakira smiled softly at Eddie. “You’re right, I just don’t know how to approach him,” she admitted, and then expelled a breath. “I do know that I’m not gonna get you down on your wedding day on Christmas Day.”

  Eddie waved her hand. “Ah, girl, I don’t think anything would do that.”

  “Now, come on,” Zakira ordered, wiping a lone tear away from her cheek. “Let’s get out of this room, so you can go dance with your husband.”

  The two stepsisters left the bedroom chattering away. They never noticed Malik standing by the door in the shadows.

  The delicious aroma of spicy, bubbling lasagna and buttered French bread greeted Zakira when she arrived home the next evening. She allowed her nose to be her guide and headed for the kitchen. Her loud gasp filled the air when she found Malik there, hard at work mixing something in a huge bowl. She cleared her throat and waited for him to look up.

  “Hey. Damn, I was hoping to be finished by the time you got home,” he said.

  Zakira waved her hand and walked closer to the kitchen island. She tossed her coat to one of the stools and smiled. “So, why didn’t you ever cook like this…before? Or are you only doing this because it’s Christmastime?” she teased.

  Malik smiled, but didn’t look up from his mixture. “I love your cooking more.”

  Zakira resisted the urge to toy with one of his dreadlocks. Instead, she sat at the small kitchen table. It was already set intimately for two. Malik finished his Parmesan sauce and began to set out the delicious feast.

  Dinner passed quietly and quickly. The thick, gooey lasagna was cut down to only a corner. They were enjoying the flavored coffee, when the silence was finally broken.

  “Zaki?”

  “Mmm-hmm?”

  “How could you ever believe I’d think you were weak?”

  Zakira’s head snapped up and she frowned across the table at him. “What do you mean by that?”

  “You know what I mean,” he assured her, pinning her with his unsettling gaze. “How could you ever think missing me and questioning my actions would make you weak?”

  “Have you been talking to Eddie?”

  Malik leaned forward and rested his elbows against the table. “No, I haven’t been talking to Eddie. But I heard you talking yesterday after the wedding.”

  “Oh, so you were eavesdropping?” Zakira asked angrily.

  “Dammit, girl, if I hadn’t been there, I never would’ve found out anything,” Malik informed her, becoming angry, as well. “Why didn’t you just come talk to me?”

  “Because you should’ve known!” Zakira snapped, slamming her palm against the table. She pushed her chair away and began to pace the checkered linoleum floor. “You should’ve known what your leaving did to me. It tore me apart. Sure you were sick, but I was dying, too. You didn’t care about that, though. You had your plan and you were sticking to it, damn me and what you were doing to me.”

  Malik left the table and followed Zakira across the kitchen. “Baby, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

  “Malik, how’d you think I’d feel? Not only do you tell me that you have cancer and you’re dying, but you tell me that you don’t want treatment and you’re going away to die. Then, I find out you’ve been living off somewhere for months. How did you expect this to affect me?”

  “Love, I’m…I’m sorry,” he told her, his intense stare filled with pain and guilt.

  Zakira only shook her head. She tossed her thick curls across her shoulder, then walked over to him and poked her finger into his chest. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to build trust? I don’t think men get that part of it. You want to go back to the way it was, but I’m not sure we’ll ever get there again.”

  Malik’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head slightly. “So are you telling me you don’t want to try and get past this? You expect me to just give you up? Is that what you want?”

  Zakira cursed the tears that fell from her eyes. “I want—I want us to work this out, I do…But I’m so scared.”

  A stunned Malik pressed one hand against his chest and stepped closer to her. “Scared? Of me?”

  Zakira went to lean against the oak kitchen island. She stared at the tops of her plum suede pumps and then looked up. “What if you decide it’s best for you to leave again?”

>   Malik squeezed his eyes shut tightly. “That’ll never happen.”

  “It happened before. I never expected it.”

  “Dammit, Zaki why are you doing this?” he asked, frustration tearing away at him.

  “Because when you left, I felt like I had nothing. I wanted to die, cooped up in this house with all our memories. I didn’t want to hear from anything or anyone. Then I realized that the business was still there and it became my life. All I could really depend on. I don’t want to ever feel so helpless again. Hmph, and now you want me to hand over the only thing that kept me going…”

  Malik turned away, running both his large hands through his heavy dreads. “I’ve been thinking about that,” he said, after a long silence.

  Zakira propped her hands on her hips and waited for him to continue.

  “I want to spend more time in the kitchen and no time up in that office,” he admitted.

  “What does that mean?”

  Malik grimaced and walked over to the island to sit next to her. “I always hated dealing with all those suppliers. You’re a lot better at it than I ever was or ever could be. The way you deal with the business part of the restaurant is far better than I ever have.”

  Zakira frowned and watched him as though he were a different person. “I always thought you lived for the business part. It was like you thrived on it.”

  “Nah,” Malik disagreed, shaking his head quickly. “I started the restaurant because I loved to cook. Unfortunately, I never counted on business taking me away from that. I think I began to resent it.”

  “And?” Zakira said, watching him expectantly.

  Malik turned to face her, his fingers absently trailing the line of her thigh visible beneath the high hemline of her plum skirt. “Baby, I don’t want our lawyers or the business to stand in the way of us getting back together. We’ve got a lot to work out, but I think we’ll have a better chance if the restaurant isn’t standing between us. We should make it legal and move past it.”

  “Legal?”

  “You handle the business end of both restaurants completely. It’s all your call. And I’ll take care of the kitchens.”