CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Almost Us.”
Zara woke before her alarm.
For a moment, she couldn't remember why she was smiling.
Then she did.
The picnic.
The skyline.
The kiss.
She buried her face in her pillow and laughed quietly to herself.
"You've completely lost your mind," she whispered.
Her phone buzzed on the bedside table.
She reached for it without hesitation.
Malik: Good morning.
She smiled.
Zara: Morning.
A few seconds passed.
Malik: I've been staring at my phone for ten minutes trying not to text you too early.
She laughed.
Zara: I was already awake.
Another message appeared.
Malik: Good. I didn't want to wake you.
She stared at the screen.
No one had ever cared about something so small.
It shouldn't have mattered.
But somehow...
It did.
By the time Zara arrived at Bellamy & Co., Naomi was waiting beside her desk with a cup of coffee and an expression that could only mean trouble.
"You kissed him."
Zara froze.
"...Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
Naomi folded her arms.
"You've smiled at your phone six times since walking through that door."
"So?"
"So you only smile like that for two reasons."
"What reasons?"
"Good news..."
She leaned in dramatically.
"...or a man."
Zara laughed despite herself.
"You should've been a detective."
"I know."
Naomi lowered her voice.
"So?"
Zara looked around the office before whispering,
"...Maybe."
Naomi gasped loudly enough that two people looked over.
"You kissed him!"
"Will you keep your voice down?"
"I'm trying!"
"No, you're not."
Naomi hugged her so quickly Zara nearly spilled her coffee.
"I'm happy for you."
Zara smiled.
"So am I."
Then, almost immediately, her smile faded.
"What?"
Naomi noticed instantly.
"I'm scared."
"Of him?"
"No."
"Then what?"
Zara looked down at her coffee.
"Of trusting that something good can actually last."
Across Brooklyn, Malik sat in a board meeting.
Or at least...
He was physically present.
His mind was somewhere else entirely.
"...Mr. Carter?"
One of his directors looked at him expectantly.
"I'm sorry."
"You asked about the development proposal."
Malik blinked.
"Right."
He glanced at the paperwork in front of him.
Normally, he noticed everything.
Every figure.
Every risk.
Every opportunity.
Today...
All he could think about was Zara smiling after he kissed her.
Keisha, seated across the table, watched him with barely concealed amusement.
When the meeting finally ended, she followed him into the corridor.
"You didn't hear a word anyone said."
"I heard enough."
"You've got that look."
"What look?"
"The one Mama used to tease you about."
He frowned.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The one where you pretend you're concentrating."
She smiled.
"But really you're thinking about someone."
Malik sighed.
"Is it that obvious?"
"To me?"
She nodded.
"Very."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Keisha's expression softened.
"You deserve this."
He looked away.
"I hope so."
That afternoon, Zara received a text.
Malik: Free at six?
She smiled.
Zara: Depends.
Malik: On?
Zara: Whether this is another 'definitely not a date.'
His reply came instantly.
Malik: I think we've moved past pretending.
Heat crept into her cheeks.
Zara: I think maybe we have.
At six o'clock sharp, Malik was waiting outside Bellamy & Co.
This time, there were no expensive restaurants.
No glamorous events.
He drove them to a neighbourhood grocery store.
Zara looked at him in confusion.
"You've finally realised I need food?"
He smiled.
"I've realised you should learn how badly I cook."
She laughed.
"That's a strange first official date."
"It's not a first date."
She looked at him.
"It's the first one where we're both honest."
She couldn't argue with that.
Inside, they wandered the aisles together.
They debated pasta brands.
Argued over whether pineapple belonged on pizza.
Malik insisted on buying fresh herbs.
Zara insisted dried ones tasted exactly the same.
"They don't."
"They do."
"They absolutely don't."
"You sound personally offended."
"I am."
She laughed so hard another shopper smiled at them as she walked past.
For the first time in years...
Doing something ordinary felt extraordinary.
Later, they cooked together in Malik's apartment.
His home surprised Zara.
It wasn't flashy.
Warm oak floors.
Large bookshelves.
Framed photographs of family.
Fresh flowers in the kitchen.
Music playing softly from hidden speakers.
It felt...
Lived in.
Not staged.
"You cook often?" she asked.
"I try."
"And burn things?"
"Occasionally."
"Occasionally?"
He smiled.
"Frequently."
She laughed.
"I'm relieved."
"Why?"
"I was beginning to think you were annoyingly good at everything."
"Oh, I'm excellent at making mistakes."
The words slipped out before he realised it.
The atmosphere changed slightly.
Zara looked at him.
"You don't have to carry all of them by yourself."
He smiled sadly.
"I've been carrying them a long time."
"I know."
She stepped closer.
"But you don't have to anymore."
Without thinking, Malik reached for her hand.
Their fingers intertwined naturally.
Like they'd always belonged there.
He looked at her quietly.
"I've been wanting to ask you something."
"What?"
He took a slow breath.
"I don't want to rush you."
"You've said that before."
"I mean it."
She nodded.
"I know."
"So..."
He smiled nervously for the first time since she'd met him.
"...would you let me take you on a real date next Friday?"
Zara pretended to think.
"Hmm."
"I'll make reservations."
"Hmm."
"I'll even let you choose dessert."
She laughed.
"I'd love that."
Relief flashed across his face before he could hide it.
"Good."
He squeezed her hand gently.
"Because I was starting to think I'd have to keep asking forever."
Much later that night, after Zara had gone home, Malik stood alone on the balcony outside his apartment.
The city stretched endlessly beneath him.
His phone vibrated.
Another unknown number.
This time it wasn't a text.
It was a photograph.
His stomach dropped.
The image showed Zara leaving Bellamy & Co. earlier that evening.
Taken from across the street.
She hadn't known anyone was watching.
A second message arrived.
Pretty girl.
It'd be a shame if she got caught in the middle.
Malik's grip tightened around the phone.
His expression hardened instantly.
Without another thought, he dialled a number he'd sworn never to call again.
The line connected.
A familiar voice answered.
"I wondered how long it'd take."
Malik's voice was cold.
"If this is you..."
"...stay away from her."
A low laugh echoed through the phone.
"You always did have a weakness."
The line went dead.
Malik stood alone in the darkness, staring out across Brooklyn.
For the first time since prison...
He considered whether protecting the people he loved might require becoming someone he thought he'd left behind.
And that thought frightened him more than Devon ever could.