CHAPTER 37
"What happened?" Malik eyes my suitcase with pure dismay.
"She knows," I sob, wiping my tears. "She's found out already."
Malik says nothing. Slowly he pulls me into his arms and I easily dissolve in his embrace. My hiccups take the best of me like a child, my chin on his shoulder. I feel lost and empty. I just cry . . . and he rubs my back gently, no word coming from his mouth. I still can’t believe the worst has happened.
"I'm sorry for this." I finally tug out and manage to smile while picking my bags, ready to face the aftermath; my scary unknown after ruining everything.
"It's okay," Malik tells me softly, smile forced and rueful. "You're still leaving?" He sounds indisposed.
"Yeah, I can't stay here anymore." I lift my eyes to meet his, a bittersweet laughter escaping my lips at this mess I'm in. "I don't want to be here, Malik. I don't have any right to be here." Tears fall down yet again, blurring my vision, urging the back of my hand to immediately reach for my eyes.
"Oh, Professor," Malik breathes, and the sadness paints his eyes as though I'm divorcing him after ten years of a lovely marriage.
"I'll be fine," I say stubbornly, and his lips harden into a hard line.
“I’ll take you to a hotel or something,” Malik offers, taking my bags.
“No, Mali, I’ll just—“ I try to argue but the look he gives me shuts my words.
If Malik gets to know where I'll be sleeping tonight, then obviously Liam will. I'm not willing to put up with another reproaching right now, especially from him.
"It’s late, Kira. You won't get a taxi until the main road and it's pretty far from here. Let me drive you; I insist.” His importunate eyes gaze at me and I don’t have a heart to reject his kindness.
"Okay," I relent, "but only until town. From there you leave me alone."
"Whatever you want," he says in a low voice, his usual playful air gone.
We slip into the Aston Martin, and hit the driveway. Malik drives in a deadly silence, making med wonder what's going on in his mind. As for me, my head is slowly experiencing a migraine that's probably from fatigue, and a faint fever from a distance.
It will be fine, I tell myself.
I watch South beach sliding by, and a couple of sighs escape my lungs every now and then. Liam will never forgive me for this, I think of him and only tears prick in my eyes. I immediately do them away, sniffling, my face hidden to the side.
"I still think this crazy." Malik opens his mouth at last. "I mean . . . what for? Why would you sacrifice your happiness for her?"
"I don't know," I utter with my eyes fixed on the road, not knowing what to think or feel regarding what I'm doing.
"Well, maybe I do," Malik murmurs.
"Huh?" I glance at him.
"Nothing," he utters, and the silence resumes.
As instructed, Malik drops me to a place where I can easily grab a taxi. I can't say it's been easy convincing him to do as I want, but in the end he complies with every wish of mine, as he always does.
Another hard part is saying goodbye to him. He has been very good to me, and I'll forever remember him as a wonderful friend he is. I watch him taking off my bags, and I feel nostalgic already. I'll miss him so badly, and I honestly wish that I'll get to see him again.
"Thank you," I say with my best smile at the moment, forcing myself to stay composed.
"Are you seriously doing this, professor?" he asks yet again, while I put my suitcase inside the taxi. "There's still time to change your mind. You can—“ I hear a heavy exasperated sigh from him.
Turning to face him, I hold tightly the two sides of my long Cardigan, not knowing what to tell him again. I walk forward with a smile, and could only see the gloomy face that I'm only used to see as smiley and bright.
"I'm just going to California, Malik, not Africa," I say, and we giggle together for a change.
"Well, I'd have gone to Africa to get you, if you'd let me." He grins.
"Yes, that's the Malik I know." I smile the threatening tears away, as he looks at me too deeply in the eyes.
"You can visit me if you want," I say truthfully. "I wouldn't be happy to lose you too."
"You won't," he utters, and it feels like a very beautiful promise. The promise I wish I could hear from someone else. Enough, Kira! I left him so I shouldn't even wish for such a wish.
I march over and encircle my arms around Malik's and hug him tight. It's now that I realize how much I hate goodbyes after all. It's so depressing, and I nearly forgot the feeling since I don't even have a lot of people in my life.
Malik feels stiff at first, as though I've taken him by total surprise, but he slowly relaxes in my arms. I feel his hands tightening my lower back, and the smell of his expensive cologne engulfs my nostrils.
I may never see him, and much less Liam whom I couldn't even say goodbye to. I tighten the embrace at the thought, and it's like I'm scared to let go; that if I do it's all over for me. But I have to, and so then I do exactly it.
When we pull apart, I read sadness all over Malik's face, and another kind of emotion that I can't quite explain. Well, a lot can happen when we part with people we like, so it's probably nothing new for me dwell on the subject.
"You're an amazing woman, Kira," Malik says.
I'm not so sure, really. Not after failing to keep everything I consider dear.
"And you're a very nice guy, dear Prince. Thank you for making this trip full of smiles for me," I tell him truthfully, recalling our first meeting and all the times he made me feel at ease when I got tense or happy when I was sad. "Oh, I'm also sorry that I misjudged you the first time I saw you."
"Say what?" He eyes me sideways, laughing.
"I like you, professor, I really do," I mimic his signature quip.
"You're crazy." He squirms around, laughing crazily. "I don't sound like that."
We laugh in a brief moment, joking around, trying hard to accept parting our ways. How I wish I could halt the time! Just an hour. No . . . just a few minutes more.
"I got to go," I finally get serious, my eyes getting extra moist once again. "Thank you for everything." I rush to kiss him on the cheek, and he shuts his eyes adorably.
Smiling faintly, I turn my back to hop into the taxi that's been waiting for ages. The driver is probably wondering why we're having a display of affection in the middle of the city, instead of wherever we came from.
It's when Malik grabs my wrist suddenly, right before I grab the door handle.
He steadfastly pulls me to his side, like he's forgotten something very important. I'm so startled as I land my hands on his chest, and find myself tightly against his body. He swallows nervously, his shiny eyes piercing into mine.
I don't understand this attitude, until his lips land onto mine.
I don't do a thing. I'm just too puzzled to react. He's kissing me, I know he is, but it's like I'm hypnotized with the shock or something. Everything ceases to exist, and I can't even feel my own heartbeat.
What is this? What is Malik doing now? My two subs widen their eyes, utterly shocked.
He suddenly frees me, and I look up at him, just to see a foreign type of Malik that I never imagined existed. No, it can't be! The look in his eyes, the feeling it deciphers as he stares deeply into my eyes, it's so confusing.
"I'm sorry, Kira," he utters, breathless and remorseful. "If I hadn't done this, I'd probably regret for the rest of my days."
Oh God! I swallow hard.
"Goodbye, Malik," I say, in almost a whisper. "Take care."
"Professor," Malik utters, but ends up sighing. I give him a faint smile and a nod, before turning around.
I don't know why I smiled, but I just wanted him to see that I'm not angry at him as his eyes suggested. I slowly slide into the taxi, and delicately seat myself down. He kissed me? Did he? I try to shut my eyes, hoping it's just an imagination.
"No, this is not happening." I shake my head to the sides as the scene flashes back in my head. "No, it can't be." I refuse to believe.
About an hour later, I'm finally set into my room, in a nearby hotel to the Airport. I turned my cellphone off as soon as I checked in. I don't want anyone finding me, especially after what happened earlier with Malik. I refuse to believe that such a thing is happening.
I roll over the bed, and pull the covers to my neck. I feel like I destroy everything I touch. I've ruined my own friendship, and now this? No, I can't deal with too much emotion in one day. I just need to sleep, and get the hell out of this place once and for all.
***
Thus morning I wake like a zombie. After two hours of forcing myself into breakfast and getting ready for my flight, I finally check out of the hotel. Now I'm off to the airport for my departure in forty minutes. It's been a very long and tough night, but it’s over now.
Goodbye, Miami.
There's this one scene in the movies, when a leading girl decides to leave the city or country, and the male lead would come and stop her from leaving. He'd use all kind of words, and other romantic tricks, and in the end they'd have a happily ever after.
I always find loads of crap in such scenes. I mean, how do they manage to run that heavy traffic, the flat tire or the security check in the Airport so easily? I'd always laugh at the idea, but then again, it is possible, I guess. And today, I just remembered those sappy parts while thinking of Liam.
I eventually board the plane, and guess what? It's already taking off, and nothing happened like in the movie. I laugh to myself like a retarded woman. You're not the lead character, Kira. My subconscious laughs at me. Well, maybe I'm not the heroine of the story.
The plane finally lands at LAX runway. It's been a terrible flight of my entire life. I could neither sleep not stayed perfectly awake. I'm just glad to be over with this entire summer ordeal. Talking of my appearance, I look haggard. I slide the sunglasses on as the L.A sun welcomes me unpleasantly.
My body heat isn’t normal, yet I tightly wrap my cardigan tight. It's strange that I feel cold amid the summer, and now it's the L.A summer of all places. As though I'm being forced to walk, I take my bags ready to go home. I jump into the first taxi I come across outside.
"Where to?" the driver shoots sassily.
"Venice," I utter.
Home . . . my sweet little home.
"Right away," he answers with some kind of enthusiasm that doesn't touch a bit of me.
The taxi halts by the heavy traffic jam. Yes, this is home. The noise, the traffic, and the heat . . . I nearly forgot how crazy the Lincoln Blvd can get around the rush hours, but looks like my driver knows his way better as he outmaneuvers the streets to avoid the jam.
My head feels heavy and I can't stop thinking of Liam.
He probably hates me by now, thinking that I played him for a fool, or worse. The idea makes me sick and the sadness takes me all over again. Now I hear Ed Sheeran and his photograph song, which drives me crazier. I can't take this, it's so harder than I imagined.
When I arrive home, in such a state, I drop my bags by the door. I don't bother with anything else, other than throwing my shoes, before changing the bed sheets and fall flat on the bed. Even though I don't pay much attention to my apartment, I can tell how dusty every corner is.
I pull a pair of pillows and comfortably lay my head on one, and hugging the other. I should be saying it's good to be home but it's the opposite that I'm feeling. I want to sleep and forget. I want to lock everything up.
It's over, it's the end. I shed a few more teardrops and try to sleep once more. I hope tomorrow will be fine, it has to be. I have to wake up feeling energetic, strong enough to accept everything and move on. I have to go back into the woman I was.
The End!