Zemira

There is nothing more frustrating than having hope for something. Sure, it could keep anyone afloat when everything else crumbled around. But it also tended to make a person desperate.

Three months after visiting Leo at the hospital, hope kept me going. It also made me do things I wasn't proud of.

I resorted to calling Leo daily and even began bothering his mother. When his voicemail inbox flooded, I kept recording messages in the hope that he would hear them someday. I lost count of the messages I sent or the emails where I poured my heart out.

I scanned through the tabloids to see if there was anything written about Leo. I stalked him on social media, a move I wasn't proud of. The only thing I couldn't find myself doing was barging into the Brenton mansion to meet with him.

Kiera was right about one thing. If Leo was good at hiding from the media in the past, he would employ his best resources to continue doing so.

I wasn't surprised to not find anything about him anywhere. He knew how to cover his tracks.

The only thing I knew about Leo was his arrival in Miami - the news conveyed by Sam's pilot friend, Garry. It was a chance encounter when Rachel chartered the plane and Garry recognized Leo.

Had it not been for Sam and his network of friends, I would presume Leo was still at the hospital.

At one in the afternoon, I began my routine. I dialed Leo's phone number, those ten digits burnt at the back of my mind and waited for it to connect.

The words - calling - displayed on my screen still hitched my breath. My mouth dried with every ring. For the past few months, it was a ritual I did before having lunch. Yet, every day felt like the first. The sound of the phone ringing from his end muffled all other voices and sounds around.

As always, the call went unanswered.

The voices around my office; of staff talking and the printers churning out papers filled the silence in my office. It gave a respite from the phantom call still ringing in my ears.

My reattempted call of shame was cancelled with an incoming video call.

Debby's smiling face appeared on the video call. I was a person who favored a call over a video. But Debby loved a good Facetime chat.

At my therapist's instruction, I was embracing newer things in life. That included doing things I normally avoided including smiling for the cameras, greeting my friends normally over a call then jumping right to the point.

"Zemmmmy, how are you?" Debby's shrill voice blared through the speaker. Next to her, calm Kyle sat and waved at me. "It's like you completely forgot about us."

"You know how work can be, right, Debs." I clarified the additional responsibilities I took on just to keep me occupied. "The New York location is about to be unveiled and Dad and I are-"

"-swamped," Debby added. "I know, hon, but you need to take a break or else you'll burn out. And I don't want my friend to burn out. At least not before she gets to know my baby's gender."

The last time we met, Debby was only a few weeks pregnant.

"Gosh..." I palmed my face, bending my head over the table, only to storm up with a newfound wave of happiness. "I can't believe it. It's happening so fast."

"Indeed..." Kyle took over the phone, nesting Debby's head over his shoulder. "So instead of dying in your office with exhaustion, how about you come to meet us on Saturday for the gender reveal? You'll get to meet others too."

"Guys, I really want to-"

"Nope. You said this the last time too, Zem." Debby was persistent. "I don't want you coming to the hospital to meet the baby. I want you now."

In a short span, Debby and I grew closer. The similarities of dating army men played a major role in forging our friendship. In the past few months, I found myself talking to Debby whenever I was overwhelmed after calling Leo.

There was no winning with a pregnant woman, especially if that woman was Debby Matthews. I accepted her invitation to the party.

I would have a free Saturday after so long. A Saturday when work wouldn't have to distract me from thinking about the man who seems to be ghosting me.

"Debs," I spoke in a lower tone. As if she could read me, her lips pursed. "Did you get a chance to..."

"No sweetheart. We tried contacting Leo and Rachel. I don't know where they are hiding but I can't get a hold of him."

Like a pinprick bursting a balloon, her words hit my core. Residual happiness dispersed. My chest drew inwards and all the air in the room felt less to fill my lungs. Deflated, I sat on the chair.

"I just hope Leo's doing well." As if the news didn't bother me, I smiled at the screen. "Anyways I'll come. I promise."

A shriller and squeakier voice emerged from the speaker after which Debby went on to narrate how excited she was and how her sister kept everything under wraps.

The joy on her crimson-colored face and intonated voice pinched my skin.

There was something about your friends moving on in life while you stay stagnant. For me, that feeling tossed up something sour both in thoughts and actions. I couldn't end the call sooner.

Pangs of guilt hammered my head, my gut.

Kyle and Debby supported me when the detectives paraded my life, asking me weird questions about the assault. It was Kyle who procured a restraining order against many paparazzi photographers who followed me around, hoping to get some spicy shots.

Yet, when it came to helping Kyle and Debby as they embarked on a new journey in life, I backtracked my steps and went into hiding.

How selfish was I to always consider my feelings, my grief as paramount?

I was sure, it was only me who behaved this way.

~

Saturday couldn't come any sooner.

By late afternoon, I had finished my work and went home for a change of attire. After spending half my life under camera lights and scrutiny, I had finally leant to turn a new page.

As my therapist always said, embracing the new helped in many ways.

So dressing in a white shirt with high-waist denim jeans and a white pair of sneakers, I went for the chic college look. Yes, I now dressed knowing there would always be people with cameras outside my door.

I stopped running from them.

Since I began handling most of our hotel business, Dad employed Hamid, my driver. According to my father, he didn't want me to bang his new car while rushing from one meeting to another.

In reality, he worried too much.

Hamid parked around the corner. The diffused sounds of the engines shutting down made me look around.

"Have we reached?" I asked.

"It's a few steps ahead," he said. "There's no parking till where I can see."

"I'll get down, Hamid. Thanks."

I'll wait for you here," he said, checking the gearbox once again before turning behind.

"Oh, no." I waved my hands dismissively. "I don't know how much time I would take. Go, do something."

He chuckled, tapping his bony fingers over the steering. "Your father doesn't want me to leave you alone."

"I know. And I won't tell Dad if you wouldn't." I winked.

"Fine." Sliding his fingers through his nearly, gelled curly locks, he nodded to himself. "Call me as soon as you are done."

As I walked out, rows of colourful, luxurious cars lined from the entrance and extending on both sides of the street greeted me.

"Some gathering," I said to myself, securing my purse and walking inside.

Debby was always the centre of attention anywhere. Today was no different.

In the middle of the living room, she stood. When I waved at her, she waddled through the throng, flipping her smooth, blonde locks over her shoulders.

Upon reaching my side, I checked her from head to toe. She resembled those models who glowed more during pregnancy. Cradling her baby bump, the exhaustion on her face revealed that side most people ignored to see.

Every pregnancy was different.

"You look beautiful, Debs," I said, wrapping my arms around her for a side hug. "How are you feeling?"

"Hot." She was peering at her protruding belly. "I'm always hot. And horny."

Immediately, I scanned the room for Kyle before glancing back at her.

"So I'm guessing you both are doing it, every living moment."

I tried but couldn't stop picturing Kyle and Debby going at it like two sex-crazed bunnies. When she waved her hand near my face, my thoughts disappeared.

"You'd think that but it's not the case." She pointed at Kyle who mingled with a bunch of guys while nursing his beer. "Daddy over there thinks he'd hurt the baby so he's avoiding any kind of... you know...interactions."

I didn't know how to pacify her so I plunged my hand inside my purse and pulled out an envelope.

"I was expecting you'd help me with a dildo."

"You really are horny." My gift was a mistake. "So how about I give the gift to you after the baby is born."

"Leave it, bitch." She grabbed it with all her might. "You know I love you and all but I need every gift possible."

"Not this one."

It was a pampering spa day for her along with a truckload of messages and whatnots she could opt for at our hotel. Sadly, I didn't consider her flaring hormones.

"For some of these activities, there will be men," I began.

"Like magic Mike?" She smiled, reading the card before bursting into laughter. "OMG, this is like that. Only better. My butler and manicurist are also going to be men?"

I nodded guiltily, tipping my head to gauge Kyle's attention.

When he walked over, darling Debby broke the news.

"Zemmy got me an all-men catered spa, message and shiz."

"Actually-" I began.

"Really!" Kyle crossed his arms around his chest. I felt as if he grew twice his size. Or maybe, I diminished. "I'm assuming you don't know what trimester she's in. Or what she wants in her current state."

"Care?" I said.

"Dick," Debby spoke over me. Both Kyle and I looked at her, our mouths unhinged. "Yes, baby. I said it." She eyed her fiancé, a polished nail taunting his collar button to pop open. "I need what I need. Now you give it or..."

"Orr..." Kyle matched her tone.

"I think...I should leave." I began walking backwards. "Bye, guys."

"You're staying." Though Kyle peered at Debby, his hand remained suspended in the air, ordering me to freeze.

Was I in trouble too? Unknowingly, did I screw their party because some part of me was secretly jealous of their blissful life?

After an intense staring match, Kyle signed. "Fine. I need to talk to the doctor about the baby's safety but I see your point."

"The baby is safe." She pulled him closer, their foreheads glued together. "The doctor has already said it's safe to have-"

"Let me hear it again, love. For my satisfaction."

Kyle kissed her forehead and whispered something I couldn't hear.

I felt something.

A pricking sensation at the back of my throat. A gut-wrenching pain as if someone clubbed me.

Even though I was navigating the path towards a better and happier self, the residues of my past, of unfulfilled hopes and dreams still hurt me.

"I'll get something to drink." I walked away from the blissful couple who were about to embark on a new journey.

The sadness in my chest, in knowing Leo was avoiding me and seeing my happy friends revived emotions I'd long repressed. My chest felt the heat, a fusion of pain and hurt as I walked towards the bar.

After seven months of vowing not to drink to repress emotions, I grabbed a beer.

The voices of my therapist and dad inside my head scolded me. I ignored it, downing the chilled liquor. Then another.

I knew my limit. I knew what got me drunk. I was nowhere near it.

What I wanted was a happy high, a cushioning to rest my aching heart. A numbness to witness everything happy around me.

The black balloon with the words 'Guess who"? written in golden, and tied to a white-fondant cake drew everyone's attention as soon as it was brought into the garden.

While everyone walked outside and Kyle and Debby stood near the balloon, holding a well-decorated pin to burst it, I moved back.

I turned around and walked away as soon as the merriment began.

Selfish.

A soft pop, when the balloon burst turned me around for a second before my vision hazed. I moved faster, spitting out the flying blue confetti that somehow got stuck to my tongue and face.

Selfish.

I dialed Hamid. "Come back."

He hummed his reply, probably surprised at my exit.

The garden party began in full swing, having turned into a small version of Coachella with everyone dancing as the speaker blared music.

Are you close? Or should I take a cab?

I messaged Hamid while phasing in and out of my phone screen.

The three dots danced from his end. He took too long to answer.

I didn't know if it was the alcohol, although I didn't drink to the point of intoxication, or was it the sadness in knowing my friends had things going on in their lives while mine stayed stagnant,

I couldn't take it anymore.

My chest hurt, pulled from both sides every time I heard the merry hoots from the party. My spine gave up its support.

I bent on my knees, inhaling deeply.

"How bad could the party be for the guest to leave it so soon?"

That voice hit my back but I knew better than to turn around.

I knew better than to look at the person who, after three months of being separated by a border, added additional months to it in the name of recovery.

I knew better than to face the man who took my heart and never returned it. 

~

And there is it...

My babies meeting after such a long span of separation and hardships...

Do you think things will pan out fine now?

Or will it still be more tumorous?

Let me know in the comments...