I gave in to the darkness hovering around the periphery of my heart and, in turn, poisoned my relationship with my favorite person.
She walks away, and I watch, afraid that this is exactly how she’ll leave me behind. Without a backward glance, without any knowledge of the devastation her absence is carving into me.
Yes, she’s going to India. But horror strikes too late when I realize my behavior has pushed her into believing I’m truly not worth staying for.
I want to follow her and beg for forgiveness. I want to kiss her tears away and hold her close. But even if I do, it changes nothing.
She’s not choosing me.Us.
I have no idea where we go from here.
No clue how to fix this.
I stare at the glass doors behind which the woman I love disappeared. And I wonder how I’ll ever be okay again.
46
ALIA
“Alia.”
Ignoring Irsia, I slam my rolling pin against the counter to stretch out therotiI’m flattening until it rips.
I was perfectly fine wallowing in my room until she coaxed me out to make dinner together. She gave me the saddest look when I said no, pout and all. I might have given in to her blatant emotional manipulation but that doesn’t mean I’m any more able to put on a happy face than before.
With an agitated grumble, I gather the mess and roll it up into a shaggy mound, slapping my palms together in a wasted effort to smoothen it.
“Aloo, I think you’ve abused the dough ball enough.”
“You’re the one who begged me to make rotis for you,” I grumble.
“You’re not making roti, though. You’re punching unleavened bread into submission when maybe you need to punch something else. Or someone?”
Her tone is gentle, encouraging me to confide in her. Where do I even begin?
Frustration ripples through me. Three days after my argument with Cal, I’m still annoyed. I’ve been on edge, waiting for a call, or perhaps a message. He’s always been quick to apologize for his mistakes, so his silence makes me wonder if I’m wrong.
His absence grates on my ragged nerves with each passing minute. I feel like I’ve been walking around with gravel in my throat.
Is this how we end? Is the last time I kissed him truly the last time I’ll feel his lips on mine?
Is the last time we were together exactly that? The last?
My phone lies quietly at the edge of the countertop, taunting me for pushing Cal away. I’m vacillating between being glad for standing my ground and wondering if I could’ve done it differently.
I recall his stricken face during our confrontation. The heartbreaking vulnerability in his eyes after he declared he wasn’t enough for me.
The kernel of guilt inside my chest transforms into a boulder, crushing me under its weight.
Whenever I struggled with my emotions in front of him, he supported me. Reassured me of my worth and created a safe space for me to process all I felt. The one time I should’ve stayed to comfort him, I walked away. I’d gotten so wrapped up in my need to avoid mistakes of my past, to be different than how I’d been with Namik and not let another man control me, that I ignored the heart of Cal’s confession.
I assumed I’d be enough for you to stay.
The echo of his hoarse plea wraps around my ribs and constricts my lungs. Time and distance have taken enough edge off my anger to acknowledge that Cal is nothing like my ex-husband.
And now, I’ll lose him.
“Men are dumb,” I declare, my voice cracking.