by Nia Arthurs
“What happened?”
“Amir’s missing.”
Silence filled Elliot’s end of the line before he finally said, “He’s probably just taking some time to think.”
“That’s what we’re all hoping, but…” My lips trembled. A vision of Amir with the limo wrapped around a tree or plummeting into the Caribbean Sea filled my mind. I dug my fingernails into my skin.
“Hey, stop imagining the worst.” Elliot scolded as if he had some magical ability to look into my head. “Things got complicated, but you can’t change the past. It’s not your fault.”
“What if he kills himself, Elliot? That’ll be on me.”
“He won’t.”
“What if Amir…?”
“Don’t torture yourself, Mami. There’s nothing you can do.”
I swallowed painfully. “I know. Which makes this ten times harder.”
“Do you want me to come back and stay with you until you hear from him?”
I bit down on my bottom lip and thought about it. Shaking my head, I confessed, “I know tonight was supposed to be about us, but I’d rather be alone.”
Elliot’s voice deepened. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need. Whenever you need me.”
“I know.”
“I’ll pick you tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” I sucked in a deep breath and hung up. Keeping the phone in my hand, I paced the shag rug and chanted, “Amir has to be okay. He has to be okay.”
After a few more laps, my phone rang again.
I picked up quickly. “Amir?”
“It’s me.”
I trembled. “Mom?”
“Are you seriously waiting for Amir to call?” She cackled. “Why would he want to talk to you when you shamed him in front of everyone he knows and loves?”
Mom’s words slammed me and I stumbled back into the sofa. “What did you want, Mom? It’s late.”
“I’m letting you know that your aunts and uncles who flew in from the States want to meet you.”
“I don’t want to meet them, Mom.”
“Imani Renae Davis, I’m not asking you.”
“I’m not a child anymore, and if you haven’t sensed it by now, there’s a lot going on.”
“Like what? It’s not like you’re going on your honeymoon.”
“Mom, Amir is missing!”
That got her quiet. “He is?”
“Yes.” I squeezed my eyes shut as another wave of guilt and panic overwhelmed me. “He’s not answering his phone and all his friends haven’t seen or heard from him.”
Mom gasped. “If he’s dead, you don’t think they’ll arrest you, right? Oh Lord, Imani. I thought the stunt you pulled today was embarrassing, but if you go to jail on top of it I’d never be able to show my face on the street again.”
“Mom, I’m hanging up.”
“Wait.”
I lingered. “What?”
“If you don’t come to see your family, they’ll come to you. They flew all this way, Imani.”
“I won’t open door.”
Mom erupted. “Young lady, do you have any idea what the guests were saying about you? You’re right up there with Jezebel and Delilah. And that’s just what your family is calling you. Jezebel and Delilah.” She tutted. “Is that the company you want your name associated with? Talk to your aunts and explain in a way they’ll understand. Maybe you’ll look like less of a…you know.” She cleared her throat. “We’re coming over.”
My voice tightened and I snapped, “Do that, Mom, and I swear I’ll embarrass you even more.”
“Is that a threat?”
“The priority right now is finding Amir, okay? If you can’t understand that, I can’t help you.”
“Funny that you’re concerned about him now, but you didn’t care when you and that Elliot boy were—”
“Goodbye, Mom. Tell my aunts we’ll try to connect next time.” I hung up.
I flung my head back into the sofa and groaned low in my throat, folding my fingers into fists.
This was all my fault. I deserved to be burned at the stake of public opinion. I could live with the pointing fingers and the gossip if only Amir would freakin’ call.
“Please, please, please.” I begged my smart phone.
It responded with cold silence.
I resumed pacing and, when my eyelids got heavy, I wilted into the armchair.
That night, I dreamed about going through with the wedding. Amir was at the end of the aisle, alive.
I woke up crying, not because I regretted running from the wedding, but because I regretted letting him down.
I was not in the mood to meet with anyone, not even Elliot, but I forced myself up and slogged to my room to get ready for our date. Was it a date? We were officially together, but this felt like such a crazy time and I wondered if maybe we should slow down instead of rushing in.
Those doubts continued to plague me and, when Elliot knocked on my door later, I almost didn’t want to answer. Picking my way carefully to the door, I opened up and just leaned against the knob, looking at him.
He stood still, a thin smile on his lips and a calm look in his crystal clear blue eyes. Today, Elliot wore a simple blue T-shirt, khakis and sneakers. Handsome didn’t even begin to describe him.
My heart ballooned with love, but guilt stomped all over my excitement.
Yesterday, when I was running through the streets in my wedding dress, I’d been ecstatic to see Elliot. We’d entered our own little bubble where no one else but us existed. But that delicate little bubble was too easy to destroy and now I felt like I was free falling.
Elliot took one look at my face and the smile dropped, replaced with a worried frown. “They still haven’t found him?”
“No.”
“Maybe he’s with his family and they just haven’t called you,” Elliot said. “Have you spoken to Portia?”
“We texted. She said Mrs. Williams is…” I choked. “She said Mrs. Williams is filing a missing person’s report today.”
He stared solemnly, the muscles in his jaw working.
I shook my hair out of my face and forced a smile. “Anyway, let’s not think about that. We should get out of here before my mom unleashes my entire family on my apartment.”
“Sure.” Elliot swung his keys around his finger. “This way.”
I followed him out to his car. The sun was shining brightly. There were no signs of the rainclouds that had hovered over the horizon the past few days. I sucked in a deep breath of the fresh air and tried to calm down.
I was with Elliot. My best friend. My first love.
Amir would be found eventually, and soon, every breath would feel as easy as this.
Elliot closed my door and got in. “I was thinking we could go to Maruba’s. Henry invited us back.”
“Oh, right. The chef that let an intern ruin my reservation.”
“Hey,” Elliot drove down the highway, “if it wasn’t for Henry, we wouldn’t have met when we did. You would have been married and we would have missed our shot.”
I pondered his words. Would I have gotten married to Amir if I hadn’t met Elliot? I honestly wasn’t sure.
It bothered me that I didn’t have a clear answer. I’d told Amir yesterday that I was dropping him because he deserved better, but was that the full truth?
Did it even matter?
I sunk lower into my seat and held my temples. Why was my head pounding like crazy?
Elliot noticed. “Mami, if you’re not feeling well, we can cancel.”
“No. I want to spend time with you. It’s fine.” I straightened and stared ahead. Life went on. While I waited for the police to find Amir alive—please God let him be alive—I needed to enjoy my relationship with Elliot.
After all, it was my conflicted feelings for him that had spurred this mess in the first place.
Chapter 29
Elliot
Imani sat across from me in the diner, her eyes gliding to her phone every thre
e seconds. I got the feeling that she wasn’t listening and decided to test my theory.
“And that’s when I told Bryan to take the howler monkey into the kitchen and hand him a knife to work on the lobsters.”
“That’s great, Elliot,” she murmured, beautiful brown eyes—you guessed it—on her phone.
I sighed and leaned back, studying her face. Exhaustion lingered in the fine lines sprouting around her eyes and mouth. Her hair was pushed into a lopsided ponytail. She sighed and worried her bottom lip every five seconds.
I wanted to crush Imani up in a hug, shield her from the world for a few hours. Even then, my love for her wouldn’t be enough to cushion all the blows.
“Imani.”
She startled and glanced up. “Sorry. Were you saying something?”
“Nothing important.”
“Start again. I’ll pay attention this time.”
I picked up my burger. “It’s fine. I’ll eat quickly and then take you back home.”
“No.” Imani lowered my hand. “I’m enjoying myself. Really.” Her smile trembled and her eyes told me she was lying.
I leaned back. “You’re still thinking about him.”
“Who?”
“Amir.”
“That’s not…” Her eyes darted down. “It’s not like that. A lot’s going on right now.”
“I get it. Trust me.” I held her hand and squeezed.
“I’m so stressed today. I almost didn’t want to come out of my house.”
Concern for her overwhelmed me. My mind raced with solutions and I blurted the first one that popped up. “Maybe we should take a break until this all blows over.”
“A break?”
I nodded encouragingly.
In that moment, I expected her to be touched. We both knew that her mind was too occupied with Amir being missing and her conflicted feelings over ditching him at the wedding to focus on us right now. I didn’t want to push myself on her when she had so much to figure out.
But Imani’s eyes sharpened and I knew I’d made a mistake. “That’s always your go-to, isn’t it?”
“What is?” I stammered.
“You know what?” She grabbed her purse and shot up. “I’m over this.”
“Imani, wait.” I jumped from the table and followed her outside.
“Sir!” A waiter chased us. “You have to pay!”
“Just a minute!” I grabbed Imani’s wrist.
She spun, her dark eyes shooting darts.
“Sir!”
Irritated, I gritted my teeth and pulled my wallet out of my pocket. Extending my arm, I growled. “Go. Away.”
Imani huffed and stared into the distance.
The waiter trembled and ran back inside with my wallet.
I focused on the fuming woman in front of me. “Mami, stop. What’s going on? Why are you so angry?”
“Portia was right, but I was too stupid to see it.”
“Portia? What does she have to do with this?”
“I’m always the one chasing you. How could I have been so stupid?”
“You’re not stupid.”
“I am. I chose you and, at the first sign of pressure, you’re backing out.”
“Imani, calm down. You’re misunderstanding me.”
“You want to break up.”
“That’s not—”
“Forget it. I understood you perfectly.”
My eyebrows slanted down. I struggled to find words she would understand, but the way she was glaring at me, I knew she would only hear what she wanted to.
Frustration mounted in my chest.
Did I want to slow down?
Hell no.
Imani was my dream woman. But the main difference between me and Amir was trust. I trusted Imani’s love for me. I knew she would come back. As she always did. We were stronger together. We belonged together.
I dropped her hand. “Of course I don’t want to break up with you. I love you.”
“Right.” She snorted. “That’s why you’re so eager to ‘take a break’.”
Annoyance flashed in my voice. “Imani.”
“It was so obvious,” she spoke softly, almost to herself. “That day when we met at church, you held my hand, but that was it. You were going to leave me there. Gran was the one who invited me over for lunch.” She lifted her chin, brown eyes glittering with anger. Her voice grew louder. “And after Amir stopped you from catering the wedding, I was the one who called you. I was going crazy and I needed to hear your voice.”
“I wanted to see you, Imani. You had no idea, but you were getting married. And I—”
“The next time, I came to your restaurant.” She interrupted me, her eyes darting back and forth as if she’d just discovered an unsettling secret. “I kissed your cheek. I asked you how you felt about me. You wouldn’t have told me anything if I hadn’t done all that. You didn’t care.”
“Are you forgetting that I ran to your wedding to stop it? How can you say that I don’t care? I love you, Imani. I always have.”
“Always?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “From the first day we met, but you were never interested.”
She cursed. “Do you know how many hints I dropped back then? I was into you and everyone else could see it.”
“I had no idea.” Stunned, I stepped back. “We were so close. You could have just told me.”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“That night… after Dmitry’s party.”
I scratched my head. Imani had done a whole lot with her lips that night, but I didn’t remember talking.
She folded her arms over her chest. “You had no problems turning me down. I threw myself at you and all you did was tuck me in and kiss my forehead. Remember? I undressed. Took your shirt off. Got on top of you…”
I froze, the memories crashing over me. I remembered that. Damn it. I’d wanted her so badly. It had taken everything in me not to act on those feelings.
“Why didn’t you do anything?” Imani hissed.
“What are you talking about, Mami?” I yelled, annoyed with myself and with her. “Why would I touch you when you were piss drunk?”
“I drank to help with the nerves. We were about to graduate and I was going back to Belize soon. I needed you to know how I felt.”
“You couldn’t have used words?”
“Why did you think I tried to sleep with you, Elliot? For fun? I told you that I liked you… in my own way.”
“The next week, you went right back to Brad.”
“Because you”—she slapped my chest—“acted like a buffoon and didn’t even bring up that night again. I thought you were turning me down so I tried to move on, but I just kept coming back to you. Like I always do. Like an idiot.” She kicked a rock. “I’m tired, Elliot. I’m tired of running behind you. You’re right. I do need a break.”
“Mami, listen. That’s not what I—”
“Don’t call me. Don’t show up in front of me. Just leave me alone.”
Her words were a thousand needles pricking my skin. I stepped forward. “Imani.”
“Sir!” The waiter was back. He clamped an arm on my shoulder. “Your wallet.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed it from him and looked forward. Imani was already getting into a taxi. I stared mournfully at the car’s trunk until it disappeared.
Chapter 30
IMANI
There were few moments in life that made me wish I could disappear. Standing here, in the middle of my office on Monday morning, listening to the still, pulsing hush that had descended the moment I stepped inside the room, I wanted to sink into the floors and melt away.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t expected this. Portia had warned me that the office would be a battleground of gossip and whispers. Which was why I’d begged her to let me stay home and call in sick.
She’d argued that I should go in and face the music.
“Like tearing off a band-aid,” she’d said in that prissy,
know-it-all tone. “It’ll be easier if you get it done quick.”
I’d rebelled in my heart but, since I was bumming in her apartment, I didn’t argue with her.
This morning, she’d dropped me off like a patient mother taking her child to school.
“I’ll see you at home,” she’d said with an encouraging wave.
I’d nodded.
After my huge fight with Elliot yesterday, I’d hitched a taxi to Portia’s place and asked to stay for a while. I wouldn’t put it past my mom to try and bring my family members over even after I told her not to.
And… I wanted to avoid Elliot at all costs.
My best friend hadn’t asked any questions and I hadn’t given any answers. I’d just crashed in her couch and slept like a hibernating bear until morning, when she’d woken me up and forced me to go to work.
A decision I was now regretting.
Very much.
I clutched my purse strap and cleared my throat. “Good morning, everyone.”
Mumbled greetings were thrown back at me as the office jumped into motion. People scattered, carefully avoiding my gaze.
The shoes Portia had loaned me clicked against the tiles as I strode to my seat and turned on my computer. The woman in the neighboring cubicle shot me a look over the short wall between us. When she saw me noticing, she quickly glanced away.
I tried to focus on my work and, for the most part, I successfully forgot everything else.
A few hours later, I got up to make myself some coffee. As I turned the bend, I heard a whispered conversation.
“Can you believe she came to work this morning?”
“I wouldn’t have had the guts,” another said.
“It’s clear she doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. If she had, she would have broken up with him before the wedding. Why would she waste everyone’s time like that?”
“You think she did it for attention?”
“I hear she was messing with another man.”
“What a b—”
Stricken, I backed away and ran to the bathroom. Thankfully, it was empty. I rushed into a stall and sat on the lid. My chest ached. I couldn’t breathe. I clawed at my chest, gasping for air.
The door to the bathroom swung open and footsteps thudded in.