Chapter 43
Mariyah
Dickhead:
I said something I shouldn’t have, something I didn’t mean and I am going to apologise for it but not over the phone because you deserve so much better
Dickhead:
But I’m sorry for not messaging sooner
Dickhead:
I hope you reached Raven okay and finally had the chance to speak to your parents
Dickhead:
You’re amazing little menace and you’ll be amazing at whatever you decide to do next and I’ll always support you
Dickhead:
I hope you don’t think my silence was the end of us because it’s not
Dickhead:
I know I fucked up and I know you’re angry but I’m going to make it right no matter what it takes
Dickhead:
I never want us to go back to the way we were
Dickhead:
I can’t do another five years of not touching you or being close to you and pretending I want nothing to do with you
Dickhead:
I want everything to do with you
Dickhead:
You’re my little menace
Dickhead:
You drive me insane but I’d never have it any other way
Dickhead:
Give me a few days to sort myself out but know that I am coming for you and I will gladly say all this to you again
Dickhead:
I’ll earn your forgiveness I promise you
I had a thick scarf wrapped around half my face as I exited the train station on my way back from work, but rather than waiting for a bus to go five stops, I decided to walk home and take advantage of the cozy, festive end-of-year atmosphere that I loved so much.
The December evening was ice-cold and gloomy, but New Year’s lights had been draped across streetlamps, and winter stalls were set up in squares and parks all over my home city, Brinsley.
By the time I reached my apartment complex, I was shivering and wished I’d gotten on the bus instead, but I still felt good in some sense of the word.
Emailing my resignation to HR and finally seeing a route out of my job felt like being pulled from the quicksand I’d been stuck in for months, convinced I was going to drown in it.
My anxiety at going in diminished significantly, and though my manager was still useless and threw tedious tasks at us the day before the deadline, I managed to push through with sarcasm and positivity, knowing I had two weeks until I’d be gone.
But that lightness dissipated when I rounded the corner and found a man standing outside my building, leaning against a black car and staring at the pavement under a lamp.
My feet and heartbeat stuttered to a stop. Even under the dark sky, I recognised his side profile. Something akin to relief and hope and satisfaction that he’d finally shown up quaked through my belly. For a second. Only a second. But then I released the breath trapped in my lungs, and all that fluttery anticipation transformed into a peevish, sneering monster of the night.
It’d been a week and a half since I’d returned from Touma. For the first five days he’d been radio silent, and I’d been livid. After his string of messages, that anger had softened into hurt and annoyance with a frustrating undertone of longing, which pissed me off even more. But fuck him if he thought he could just turn up and I’d forgive him oh-so-easily. No fucking chance.
Angling my chin up, I strutted down the street with cold confidence.
At the sound of my boots clicking against the pavement, Shehryar looked up. And stilled. And straightened off the car. His eyes roamed up and down my body like he hadn’t seen me in months, starved, admiring, and yearning. And my stupid heart started galloping in response.
You little bitch, calm down. We’re angry. Be angry.
I wished I could have said he looked bad—might’ve made it easier to hold on to my ire if he had. But he didn’t. Cheeks and nose pink from the cold, wearing a long black coat and boots with a bouquet of red roses and a gift bag in one hand, he looked like a devastatingly gorgeous movie hero who was ready to grovel like his life depended on it.
“Mariyah,” he rasped thickly, stepping into my path.
I ignored him and went to walk around him. But he sidestepped in front of me.
His brows pinched in an imploring frown. “Don’t ignore me. Please .”
I pulled my scarf down under my mouth and gritted out, “Move, Shehryar.”
He edged a touch closer. “I hurt you, I know, but I’m sorry. For what I said. After I told you I wouldn’t lash out at you, but I did, and I’m sorry.”
His words were sincere, but for some reason that caused my agitation to heighten. “Don’t bother,” I scoffed bitterly. “Seriously, Shehryar. I mean, it’s clear you genuinely think that of me, so don’t bother apologising when we both know you’re just gonna say it again at some point anyway.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, I won’t. Because I don’t think that, and I didn’t mean it then either. You were right. I was being judgemental and couldn’t see past my hurt, and I thrust that on you when you were only trying to help. But I won’t do it again. Ever.”
I chuckled, but there was no amusement to it. “Bullshit. You will. You have, and you will again.”
“No, I won’t,” he insisted, lifting one hand towards my cheek.
I knocked his wrist away. “Don’t touch me.”
His fingers curled into a fist as he clenched his teeth. The hope flittering in his eyes faded a touch, and as much as he deserved it, I couldn’t relish in his dejection. “You’re shivering,” he eventually said. “Can we please go up and finish this conversation inside?”
“This conversation is already finished, Shehryar.” I stepped back. “I don’t believe you, and I don’t fucking forgive you either.”
“Mar—”
This time when I rounded Shehryar, he didn’t block my path, but he followed beside me to the double door entrance leading into a concierge and reception area.
“You don’t have to believe me yet, just give me a chance to prove myself. Mariyah, please. Mariyah, wait. Wait, just wait. Please .”
He clasped my arm, and I jerked out of his grasp to face him. “What?” I snapped.
“This—this is for you,” he said, eyes frantic and desperate, as he held up the bouquet and transferred the gift bag to his other hand. “At least take this. Please .”
I glanced between the flowers and bag, neither of which looked cheap, and smiled coldly. “Why? Are you trying to buy my forgiveness or your way back into my life?”
It took a second, but slow recognition of his own words cast over his eyes. He lowered his arms, giving me a regretful smile. “Okay. I deserved that.”
“Yeah, you did,” I agreed. “Go home, Shehryar. We’re done.”
I turned away—
“We’re not.”
Only to turn back around. He pinned me still under a determined stare.
“We’re not done, Mariyah,” he repeated. “Be angry. Shout at me, insult me, fight with me. But don’t say we’re done when we’re far from anywhere near done.” He placed the bouquet into my arms, and I held it dumbly. “I’m not going anywhere until I know with certainty that you’re still mine.” He hung the handle of the bag over my fingers. “And until you know that I’m in this—in us for the long run.”
He stepped back, and I wasn’t sure I was breathing as my heart rolled around and screamed.
“Go inside, Mariyah.”
Just like that, the sweet trance snapped. I gritted my teeth as I stomped towards him, then shoved the bag and bouquet back into his hands. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”
A childish move? Maybe. But I didn’t fucking care. I was angry, and I was petty, and I wasn’t sorry about it.
I swirled around and headed off into my building without a single glance back.
Less than half an hour later, while I was still stewing and overthinking to the max, there came a knock at my apartment door.
I paused in front of it and squinted suspiciously. “Who is it?” I called.
“Concierge,” the familiar voice of a woman said.
Disappointment sunk my shoulders—wait, no! No! Not disappointment. Relief.
Rubbing my teeth together, I opened the door. “Hi Su—”
I stopped. And gawked. Because in the short, older black woman’s arms was the bouquet and gift bag I’d thrown back in Shehryar’s face.
“I take it from that expression you know what this is,” the lady said, smirking knowingly. “Because the handsome young man who left them with me was adamant that I had to convince you to accept them. He also asked me to tell you that his gifts meant nothing other than that he cared for you and wanted to give you something.”
My heart pounded at the base of my throat as hot blood swarmed my cheeks. I swallowed around it and scowled. “Stupid fucking dickhead.”
But I didn’t sound as pissed off about it as I wanted to.
Mariyah:
I binned the flowers
Mariyah:
Don’t bring any again
Dickhead:
That’s okay they’re yours to do with whatever you want
Dickhead:
Did you like the books?
Mariyah:
Did u fucking tell Shehryar about my Bookgraph page wishlist?
Esmeralda:
No why?
Mariyah:
Because he bought me the ENTIRE Iris Catlow cowboy parade series!!!
Esmeralda:
WHAT????!!!
Esmeralda:
Oh my gosh that’s so cute!!!!!
Mariyah:
No no not cute Im angry!!
Esmeralda:
No you’re not hahaha
Esmeralda:
You love it!!!!
Mariyah:
Bitch whos side are u on????