CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
“Official.”
For the first time since moving to New York, Zara woke up without the weight of uncertainty pressing against her chest.
She stretched beneath the duvet, smiling before she even opened her eyes.
The conversation in the gardens replayed itself in her mind.
"No more shutting me out."
"I promise."
She believed him.
That surprised her more than anything.
Trust had never come easily.
Not after Tennessee.
Not after years of being told that love always came with conditions.
Her phone vibrated on the bedside table.
Malik: Good morning.
She smiled.
Zara: Morning.
A moment later—
Malik: Still mad at me?
She laughed quietly.
Zara: A little.
Malik: Fair.
Another message appeared.
Malik: Can I earn my way back into your good books?
She thought for a second before replying.
Zara: Depends.
Malik: On?
Zara: Coffee.
His reply came almost instantly.
Malik: Already outside.
Zara shot upright.
She pulled back the curtain.
There he was.
Leaning against his Range Rover with two takeaway coffee cups balanced in one hand.
She couldn't stop smiling.
Miss Claudette looked up from the newspaper as Zara hurried downstairs.
"You're leaving early."
"I'm grabbing coffee."
"Mmm."
"With Malik."
"I assumed."
Zara kissed her cheek before heading for the door.
As soon as she stepped outside, Malik handed her a vanilla latte.
"You remembered."
"You've ordered the same thing every time."
"I didn't realise you were keeping score."
"I pay attention."
She smiled.
"I've noticed."
For a second, they simply stood there.
Neither seemed quite sure what came next.
Finally Malik rubbed the back of his neck.
"So..."
"So?"
"What are we?"
Zara laughed.
"You really picked seven-thirty in the morning to have this conversation?"
"I've been thinking about it all night."
She looked down into her coffee.
"So have I."
He took a slow breath.
"I don't want to assume."
"You've told me before that assuming gets you into trouble."
"It usually does."
She looked up at him.
"I don't want to keep pretending we're just friends."
His heart thudded.
"You don't?"
She shook her head.
"No."
He smiled.
"Good."
"Because I haven't wanted to be just friends for quite a while."
She folded her arms.
"I figured."
"So..."
He looked almost nervous.
A version of Malik she had never seen before.
"Would you be my girlfriend?"
She blinked.
"You really asked me like we're sixteen."
"I panicked."
She laughed.
"I can tell."
"So..."
He waited.
She stepped closer.
"I'd love to."
The smile that spread across Malik's face was impossible to hide.
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
No audience.
No dramatic declaration.
Just quiet happiness.
By the time Zara arrived at Bellamy & Co., she was twenty minutes late.
Naomi looked up immediately.
"You're glowing."
"I am not."
"You absolutely are."
Zara placed her bag beside her desk.
"I was delayed."
"Mmm."
"Traffic."
"Mmm."
Naomi narrowed her eyes.
"You've got a boyfriend."
Zara froze.
"...How?"
"I've known since you walked through the door."
"You guessed."
"I observed."
Camille appeared from her office carrying a folder.
"Observed what?"
Naomi grinned.
"Our girl is officially taken."
Camille looked at Zara.
Zara tried very hard to appear professional.
It lasted about three seconds.
A smile escaped.
Camille smiled back.
"I'm happy for you."
"Thank you."
Naomi clapped once.
"Right."
"We're celebrating."
"We're working."
"We're celebrating while working."
That evening, Malik invited Zara to one of his restaurants after work.
Not the dining room.
The kitchen.
"I want you to meet someone."
The head chef, a broad-shouldered Jamaican man named Winston, looked up from a simmering pot.
"There she is."
Zara looked confused.
"You know who I am?"
Winston pointed a wooden spoon at Malik.
"This man has mentioned you every single day."
Malik sighed.
"I have not."
"You absolutely have."
The kitchen staff laughed.
One waitress called out,
"So this is Zara!"
Another chef added,
"We were beginning to think she'd made you up."
Heat rushed into Zara's cheeks.
She looked at Malik.
"You've been talking about me?"
He looked genuinely embarrassed.
"A little."
"A little?"
Winston laughed.
"Son..."
"You've become unbearable."
After dinner, they walked through Brooklyn hand in hand.
The autumn air was cool enough to make Zara pull her coat tighter.
Malik noticed immediately.
Without saying a word, he slipped off his own jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
"What about you?"
"I'll survive."
She looked up at him.
"You always do this."
"What?"
"Take care of everyone else first."
He shrugged.
"I like knowing people are alright."
"And who's making sure you're alright?"
He smiled softly.
"I think..."
He looked at her.
"...I'm starting to have someone."
She squeezed his hand.
"You do."
Across town, Devon sat in a dimly lit office overlooking the river.
The latest photographs lay spread across his desk.
One showed Zara laughing as Malik opened a car door.
Another captured them holding hands.
The final photograph showed Malik kissing her forehead outside the brownstone that morning.
A man entered the room.
"You wanted to see me?"
Devon nodded.
"Find out everything."
"About Carter?"
Devon slid Zara's photograph across the desk.
"No."
"About her."
The man picked it up.
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything."
"Family."
"Friends."
"Where she works."
"Where she lives."
"What scares her."
The man frowned.
"You said we weren't touching the girl."
"We're not."
Devon's smile was cold.
"But if you want to understand a man..."
"...learn what he'd burn the world down to protect."
Later that night, Zara sat on the fire escape wrapped in Malik's jacket.
It still smelled faintly of cedarwood and his aftershave.
Her phone rang.
Not a text.
A call.
"Hi," she answered.
"Hi."
They both laughed.
"What?"
Malik asked.
"I've just realised something."
"What?"
"This is the first time you've actually called me."
"I know."
"I thought I'd like hearing your voice more than reading your messages."
"And?"
She smiled into the darkness.
"I was right."
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he said softly,
"I've got something for you."
"You don't have to buy me things."
"I didn't."
"What is it?"
"A surprise."
She smiled.
"I hate surprises."
"No, you don't."
"I do."
"You'll love this one."
They spoke for almost an hour.
About nothing important.
Work.
Music.
Favourite childhood cartoons.
Dream holidays.
The kind of conversations that don't change your life in the moment...
But somehow become the memories you miss the most.
When they finally said goodnight, Zara looked out across the lights of Brooklyn.
For the first time in years, she wasn't afraid of tomorrow.
She was excited for it.
She didn't know that, less than a mile away, someone was reading through a file with her name printed neatly across the front.
Every detail of her new life.
Every place she loved.
Every person she cared about.
Devon closed the folder slowly.
Then he smiled.
"Now," he murmured to himself.
"Let's see how much you've really changed, Malik."