Chapter 22 #2
My suspicions were confirmed when a tall man in a sharp suit appeared, and a housemaid bustled behind him, carrying more luggage.
I exhaled, ignoring his greeting, and collapsed onto the sofa in the lounge.
My stiff back sank into the cushions, my fingers pressing against my temple, praying the buzzing in my skull would fade.
Then a footstep approached, and his voice followed deep, yet maddeningly soft. Typical of him. “Seriously? No hug?” he teased. “It’s almost—wait, when was the last time I flew to the UK to see you and Zeraiah?”
I cracked my eyes open, staring at him, and a small smile touched his lips
Zaeem. My eldest brother.
He was just a hair taller than me, with the same build and dark hair.
A thin moustache shadowed his face, his skin darker than ours.
The only difference was our eyes; he had Mum’s, the same as Zeraiah’s.
He was dressed as always—crisp white shirt, black waistcoat, jacket, and a tie.
It was a style he almost always wore because his life was just about work, and if he wasn’t working, he’d be abroad to see his permanent girlfriend.
Smart trousers. Polished shoes. A luxury watch strapped to his wrist.
More and more, he was becoming Dad.
I never doubted that I loved him. But right now, I wanted to punch that bloody smile off his face.
With a harsh breath, I fixed him with a flat gaze. “You know, I always tell Zeraiah off whenever he curses you. But you’re indeed a prat, Mas,” I muttered, letting out a long sigh. “I haven’t even been here a month. Do you have any idea how much this place is already driving me insane?”
He grinned wider, and that was so infuriating.
Loosening his tie, he strolled closer, settling beside me.
His eyes softened again, fake gentle. “Oh, come on. You and I both know you’d never stay long if it weren’t like this.
” He nudged my elbow. “You’d have legged it back to the UK already, and I need you here, Zi.
” He paused, then added with that bloody annoying cheer.
“Besides, I miss my brother. Is that so wrong?”
For fuck’s sake.
My head was about to burst the moment I set foot here, and everything since had proved I was right to think this was a mistake, and seeing his smug, sunny face made me want to throw him into the sea.
I straightened, drew a sharp breath, and looked him dead in the eye.
“Never mind. Since you’re here now, take your project manager role back.
” My voice was rough as I pulled out my phone.
“I’ll stay the architect, but the bloody project manager is yours.
Especially since the press conference was postponed and—”
Zaeem cleared his throat, cutting me off with a raised hand, signalling me to stop.
“No, no, no. You’re the architect, which makes you the perfect project manager.
” He jabbed a finger at me, then at himself.
“I’ll go back to being CEO and drowning in my endless workload.
I need you to handle this project, Zi. I really can’t. My plate’s full.”
Fucking—
Biting back my anger, I glared hard at him. He met my stare, then spoke again, softer. “I will give you what you want later. Just stay here for a while and help me see this project through. Fair enough?”
My chest pounded with rage. “Oh, Zeraiah was right, you’re tricking us again, you bastard.” I tilted my body toward him. “What is this? Another one of Dad’s schemes?” I demanded. “What’s the plan this time, huh?”
The room tilted, hot and airless.
Because Zaeem knew.
Yet he always sided with Dad and granted his ridiculous requests, over and over!
Zaeem’s expression softened into something painfully calm. “Come on, Zi.” He shook his head. “Whatever they said in there, you know I’ve always been on your side. I just need you both here for a while—”
“Why?!”
“You know why, Dek—”
Bolting up, I cut him off and hurled my phone onto the sofa with a crack. I paced back and forth as the cold clawed through me like countless needles.
I yanked open the buttons of my collar. “Stop this bloody stupid game, Mas!” I turned on him, glare sharp enough to cut.
“You know how I feel about this. And this is just another one of your games with him!” My voice cracked with fury.
“You made me the project manager because I’m an architect, and what?
Since Zeraiah’s a model, you’re going to parade him as the face of this project?
So you can keep us here longer? Is that it? !”
Zaeem sighed, lifting his shoulders with a slight shrug. “Maybe. That’s not a bad idea. I was planning to use him for one of the—”
“Do you think this is a joke—”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Zeraiah’s voice cut like a whip as he stormed in, leather jacket tossed at Zaeem in disgust. His steps were quick, and he was at my side in a blink. His glare blazed at our eldest brother.
“I came because you said you bloody missed me, you arsehole!” Zeraiah jabbed a finger at him. “And when I got here? You weren’t even around!” His words spat sharp with betrayal.
Zeraiah raked a hand through his hair. “Off chasing that clingy girlfriend again? Pathetic—”
“Stop. Wait—” I snapped, my head splitting from the noise, and Zeraiah’s shouting making it worse. My brow furrowed at Zaeem. “When did you even get here?”
“This morning.” His gaze lingered on me. “And what’s with that face? Didn’t you have lunch with Dad? He said he’d tell you both then—”
“He ran away,” Zeraiah muttered. His eyes cut to me, sharp and cynical.
Zaeem blinked. “What?”
“He ran bloody away in the middle of lunch,” Zeraiah snapped, still glaring at me. His voice dripped with venom. “If you’re going to run, take me with you, my dear brother. Don’t fucking leave me there with him!”
Oh… right, I remembered stumbling into a taxi from the restaurant and heading to the office to pick up my car. I let out a harsh breath, my chest heavy. “Never mind. I’m knackered, I’m gonna—”
“Dad mentioned Biba and Bibu were with you,” Zaeem interjected, breaking me off. “How was it?”
The air froze. Silence stretched between us. Zeraiah’s gaze shifted to me, accusing, searching. The weight pressed down, making my throat feel as though it were bound by a rope, spinning my mind. My body grew light.
“Well, I don’t know,” Zeraiah spat, tilting his chin at me. “Ask him.”
“Huh?” Zaeem frowned. He looked between us. “Okay… what hap—”
“Nothing happened,” I cut in, my voice sharp. The pressure crushed me, dragging my thoughts back to the toilet, back to her, back to Sophie. I felt a sense of unease about what had happened earlier, which I initially doubted, but now, due to Zeraiah’s words, everything—
I shook my head. “Get some rest, Mas,” I muttered, turning away. “I need to lie down—”
Zaeem wasn’t done. He pressed on, his voice quiet but heavy, and his words aimed like darts. “You know? They always want to ask about you.” I froze. My steps halted.
“The first year after you left,” he continued, “Tshabina used to come. She was too scared to bring you up, but I knew she wanted to. She wanted to know how you and Zeraiah were doing.” The words sank like stones, and silence gripped the room.
Sighing, Zaeem pressed on. “Her position was hard, Zi. She wanted to be selfish and ask, but she held back. Because she knew this wasn’t easy for us either. You hurt, Zeraiah hurts, but so do they.”
Sweat prickling cold across my skin, and the rope had transformed into a thorned vine, winding itself around me, climbing up to my chest. My thoughts spun, and my body trembled. Noise hammered from every direction, pulling me here and there until the world bled into grey.
She was the one to blame. Sophie.
I clenched my fists, turning back towards him with burning eyes. “Okay, if you’re going to start lecturing me, you’d better stop right now.”
“I know, deep down, you understand that what happened to Mum wasn’t—”
“You weren’t there!” I exploded, the bitterness erupting from a place buried too long. My finger jabbed at him, shaking with rage. “You were always busy! With work, or tailing after your girlfriend—”
“You know I—”
“Oh, I know.” My voice trembled as it slipped past my tightly set jaw.
“You took over. You covered for Zeraiah and me.” My throat tightened.
“But still, Mas, you weren’t there in her final moments.
So don’t you dare tell me how I should feel about it!
” The room vibrated with the weight of my scream, my eyes burning as they bored into him.
The darkness pressed in again, poisoning me with those deadly memories. My heart pressed hard enough to shatter my ribs, and the pounding noise enveloped me like a blanket, not meant to offer warmth, but to crush me until I fell apart.
I covered my ears. All of this felt like it would eat me whole until nothing was left of me.
The blame lay with them.
Fisting my hair, I paced and trembled. My voice cracked as I spat the words at Zaeem. “We were fine before, and then she came, everything ruined because of her—”
“Dad too!” Zaeem roared back, stepping towards me. “Dad’s to blame as well!” His gaze locked onto mine, his body shaking. “It wasn’t even her fault, Zi!” He looked for my eyes, searching for me. “And all of that is in the past.”
He turned, his eyes sweeping to Zeraiah and me. “We need to move on. All of us. No matter what, he’s still our father. And she, and Tsabinu, they’re still our family—”
“You think I don’t know that?!” I shot back, my fists trembling at my sides. “But if she’d never moved here, Mum would still be alive! Sophie—that whore—” Fucking Sophie.
“Zioh Hadyan—”
“Do you even know what she looked like?” I cut him off. My voice breaking, my eyes hot with unshed tears. “My mum.” The word cracked out of me like a broken whisper, filled with grief. As I repeated it, my lips trembled, and the sound gutted me. “M-Mum.”
My eyes were so hot, but I never cried. Neither Zaeem nor Zeraiah had ever seen me cry. We never let our tears fall between us. Even after everything that happened, even when we buried our mother. We never cried in front of each other.
My throat burned as I looked at Zaeem, my voice fraying.
“You don’t know, Mas, because you’re like a ghost to her.
” I shook my head, and Zaeem looked at me with pain flickering underneath.
He was rooted in place. “You didn’t see her face that night.
And you think after Zeraiah, and I looked into Mum’s face for the last time, we could ever look at the world the same way again? ”
Beside me, Zeraiah stiffened. His chest rose, and his eyes reddened. The memory clawed back, sharp as glass. Mum’s face that night. Ten years hadn’t dulled it; the sight of her that night still flashed behind my eyelids whenever I closed my eyes.
Zaeem was in pain, but he didn’t know what it felt like to see hell directly in front of your face. It made the thing that held me disappear, so I was adrift, just like Zeraiah.
Everything that happened left a mark on him, so he spent his time trying to forget and vent all that destruction by sinking further into the darkness. But nothing freed him. Nothing freed me either. And now, Zaeem stood there, daring to say we move on?
I let out a bitter laugh. “It’s good you didn’t inherit this mess because you always left her just like your old man did, you arsehole!”
Zaeem’s eyes widened, rage flashing as he snapped back. “You only hate Tshabina because you’re sick, Zi! That’s why I told the two of you to see a psychiatrist—”
“SHUT UP, MAS!” Zeraiah’s roar shook the room as he stepped forward. But before he could reach us, I lunged. My fist collided with Zaeem’s face, sending him crashing to the floor. Shock lit his features, but he swung back, his own punch cracking across my jaw.
We clashed, fists flying, the sound of our blows echoing.
Rage spilt out in every strike, again and again, my fist kept flying, because every punch I threw, and every punch I took, made something dark and painful inside me fade away.
I glanced to the side and saw staff rushing to stop us, but Zeraiah’s glare froze them in place.
He stood back, watching in silence, as if he was allowing us to vent our grief this way.
Sometimes physical pain was the only thing that dulled the heartache.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” The bellows thundered across the room. Our father. He stormed out of the lift with his men at his back, his face dark with fury.
“How dare you fight in my house—” His words were interrupted when his youngest son, Zeraiah, scoffed and laughed.
His laughter rang through the entire room. “Congratulations, Dad,” he muttered as he brushed past him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. He curled his lips into a faintest smile. “You really did ruin us.”
Then he walked away into the lift.
“Where do you think you’re going, Zeraiah?!” Dad shouted after him, his voice cracking with fury. But the doors swallowed Zeraiah whole, and he was gone.
Shoving Zaeem off me, I staggered to my feet. My glare seared into Dad before I grabbed my phone from the sofa and stormed down the hallway.
“Fuck,” I spat under my breath, slamming my door behind me with enough force to rattle the frame.
Dad’s voice followed, booming down the hall. “Zioh Hadyan Danudara! Where are you going?!” To the furthest heaven, a place you’ll never be allowed in.
I locked my door, shutting him out, as his rage turned on Zaeem. “I’m used to your younger brothers, but you?! What the hell were you thinking, Zaeem?!”