Chapter 32
CHAPTER 32
AZARA
Me: How’s Alice?
Me: Let me know if you or your family need anything.
Me: Hey, I haven’t seen you at work in a few days, are you okay?
Me: Hey, I heard Alice was being discharged.
Me: Michael?
My life had always revolved around two things: Looking after my family and my work.
I didn’t mind it. It was predictable. Safe.
Yet ever since the night of Nakia's exhibition—which had been a total success though I’d missed most of it—I’d found myself longing for a life that I’d never dreamed of before.
I thought I’d been happy with the trajectory my life was taking. I had the job I’d always wanted, I was on the path of getting the promotion of a lifetime and although my dad still remained somewhat distant, I felt like he was slowly coming around and was at least answering my calls when I reached out now.
But over these past two months, I’d realized that my life could be, I didn’t know… more? I’d spent my entire adulthood putting other people’s needs first, but when it was just Michael and me, he made me feel like what I wanted mattered.
That it wasn’t selfish to need things for yourself.
He’d unwillingly opened my eyes to new possibilities and now, I coveted for more of it.
It had been a little over a week since I’d last properly talked to Michael. I’d sent him messages, but he either didn’t respond or only offered one-worded answers.
After Alice’s accident, he’d taken a few days off and spent them glued to her side. One evening, when the ward had quieted down, I’d made my way downstairs to see him only to find him fast asleep in the chair next to her. It was the first time his features weren’t locked in a constant state of worry like I’d seen every time I caught a glimpse of him when I passed by the ward Alice had been transferred to.
Instead, I’d stayed there for a few moments, watching him for a while before returning to work.
It was still hard for me to wrap my head around how just a few hours before the accident, we were with her. I’d tried not to dwell on it too much because it opened up old wounds that I preferred keeping at bay until it was that time of the year.
Especially when I’d instantly fallen in love with Alice the moment I met her. She’d surprisingly reminded me a lot of her brother. I used to think Michael was arrogant and entitled, but the more I’d gotten to know him, the more I discovered how selfless and caring he actually was.
I saw it with the way he acted with his sister. And I saw it in the tender way he treated me. Now, he still had a way of driving me to madness, but beneath the exasperation, I’d discovered that I cared more about him than I’d let myself believe.
The bitter December air whipped around me as I stepped out of the hospital, the chill biting at my cheeks. It was a little past eight in the morning, and I’d just finished my third night shift this week. I’d been working more to keep my mind occupied, but it wasn’t really working.
I fumbled for my phone in the pocket of my jacket, the same disappointment that had been my companion over the last few days resurfacing when I found my latest message to Michael still unanswered.
Logically, I knew there were more important things on his mind. His sister had just been in a terrible accident, and it was selfish of me to expect him to be responsive.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that ever since his father found us that night, he was pulling away. He wasn’t mine, and he didn’t technically owe me anything, but even knowing that, a knot tightened in my chest.
He might not be yours but for a fleeting moment, it felt like he had been.
Before I could think better of it, I found myself making my way to his flat, stopping at the small coffee shop on the corner to grab three cups of coffee, giving myself a perfectly reasonable excuse to show up unannounced.
In the lobby, I handed one of the paper cups to his doorman, who let me use the guest lifts. I didn’t want him to announce my presence to Michael just yet. It gave me the time—albeit little—to reconsider knocking on his door while I ascended to the fifty-first floor.
But once upstairs, I followed through and walked down the narrow corridor toward his front door, nerves prickling beneath my skin. I raised my hand to knock, but the door unexpectedly swung open.
Michael nearly collided with me, but he looked up from his phone just in time.
So his phone wasn’t dead.
I ignored the faint sting of disappointment in my chest at knowing he’d probably seen my messages but had chosen to ignore them. My focus was quickly brought back to him when I heard his voice again for the first time in what felt like ages.
“Azara,” Michael said, clearly surprised to see me here. His eyes briefly drifted to the cups in my hands before meeting mine. “What are you doing here?”
I frowned at his greeting. He seemed rushed, and I should have called or texted before showing up. “I—sorry, I didn’t realize… you’re leaving. I shouldn’t have come,” I stammered, inwardly cursing myself for thinking this was a good idea.
“It’s not… I just, I wasn’t expecting you,” he explained, running an awkward hand through his hair.
I stood there, unsure what to do with myself. I waited for him to invite me in, but my chest deflated when I realized he wasn’t going to. Silence stretched between us, and unlike the usual ease that had grown between us over the last few months, an uncomfortable tension weighed around us and I didn’t know how to interpret it.
It was like the past weeks hadn’t existed and we were back to being strangers. Only this time, it wasn’t annoyance I felt toward him, it was hurt.
I awkwardly shifted the cups between my hands. “I should have texted you, but I thought…” I hesitated, breaking the silence. “Well, you didn’t really answer any of my messages. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. But I suppose you’ve got better things to do.”
Something soft flickered in his eyes for a moment, before it was quickly replaced by the same detachment I’d seen him in just minutes before.
“I don’t need…” He stopped himself mid-sentence but I could hear the insinuation in his words. “I’m fine,” he said instead, his tone almost bitter.
I couldn’t tell if that bitterness was aimed at me or the situation he’d found himself in, but his words stung more than I cared to admit.
Part of me wanted to press him to tell me what was wrong, but I didn’t have the energy to fight after trying for so long without any response.
I’d never been one to give up, but I couldn’t force him to confide in me.
Not when he’d made it clear my presence wasn’t wanted.
“Clearly. I’ll leave you to it then,” I said, handing him one of the paper cups. The moment he took it, I turned to leave.
I’d barely taken a few steps when his free hand closed around my wrist.
“Wait,” he said quietly.
I briefly shut my eyes before turning to face him. “What is it, Michael?” I asked, my voice coming out sharper than I’d meant to.
The weight of his gaze softened again, almost filling with remorse, but I must have imagined it because it was gone just as quickly. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
But he didn’t need to say anything, his silence spoke loud enough.
“That’s what I thought,” I muttered, pulling my wrist out of his grip.
This was why I never let myself get too close to people.
This was why I never let myself feel anything for anyone.
Because it always led to one thing.
Disappointment.