Chapter 5 #2
The boardwalk curved before abruptly ending at a trailhead, where a tilted wooden sign showed an illustrated map of the property. Ten different paths branched off from there, winding past brush and trees. She studied the map as a door at the far end of the resort slid open.
Haris stepped onto the grassy lawn, phone to his ear. When he hung up, he stretched and spotted her. She waved him over.
“Taking a hike?” he asked as he approached.
“Tempted, but not the best idea in these heels.” She pointed to her four-inch Aquazzuras.
“Good thinking. Plus, the trails will be crawling with alligators this time of year.”
She was pretty sure she’d take her chances with the alligators over the aunties. Though—
“You sure you’re okay talking to me?” she teased. “I don’t think your mother would approve.”
He winced. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve had a talk with her.”
“She’s always been super protective of you.”
“Doesn’t make it right. I hope that’s not why you skipped the South Beach outing this morning. This is your family wedding. No one should make you feel unwelcome.”
“That’s sweet of you, but no. I was busy.” She gestured to her outfit. “Apparently the clothes I’d packed weren’t cutting it.”
He gave her outfit a quick once-over, then met her eyes. “You look nice.”
“Thanks.” She reached up and straightened the collar of his olive button-down. “Not to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m afraid today’s bridal shower theme is pastel. Lulu’s a stickler for keeping to theme.”
“No men allowed at the bridal shower,” he said. “Us menfolk will be at the bro-dal shower. No dress code for us, far as I know.”
“The what?”
“Right? We gave Khaled shit for it. It’s really just a barbecue. Poker table, big screen for the Dolphins game.”
Segregated events. It made sense, but she still felt a pinch of disappointment. Between Reza and Haris, at least she had some camaraderie with the groomsmen.
“We’ll be competing for best toilet paper wedding dress, so I’m officially jealous of you,” she told him.
“Join us?” he offered. “The Dolphins could use all the cheering they can get. It’s been a rough season.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen a football game since—” She stopped herself.
“Nasir got us great box seats to that game, didn’t he?” He smiled.
“And then spent the night complaining we were too far from the action.”
“If we were any closer, they’d have kicked us out. For such a clearheaded finance guy, he had no chill when it came to that team.”
“He really didn’t.” She brightened at the memory.
Nasir had been the extrovert in their relationship—always pulling her out for rooftop parties, last-minute concerts, sports events where they barely knew the rules but cheered like superfans.
Once they’d moved back to Florida, Haris joined whenever he could—a steady presence, ready to drive her home when Nasir wasn’t quite ready to call it a night.
But her favorite moments were when she and Haris tag-teamed to convince Nasir to grab takeout and spend the evening at home.
Memories of movie nights on the couch came rushing back.
The meandering conversations that went deep into the night.
“You know, I still try his number sometimes,” Haris said.
“You…you do?”
“His father refuses to disconnect his phone line. It goes straight to voicemail, of course, but I keep hoping one of these days he’ll answer. Tell me what the hell happened. That he’s okay.”
Hena had developed a careful stoicism about that time in her life.
She had to. It was the only way to keep going.
But it was one thing to hold back her memories while discussing the ideal meditation room with a client—another to be back here among the familiar saw grass and salty sea air.
Here, she could feel time compressing, the numbness fading.
Grief prickling back to the surface. She’d spoken more of Nasir in the past twenty-four hours than she had in three years.
It was like memories of the man she loved lingered around every corner.
“I’ll never make sense of it.” Haris stared out at the swamp. “One morning we’re deep-sea fishing at his bachelor party, taking photos of him with the three-hundred-pound blue marlin he caught. Twenty-four hours later, he’s emptied his bank account and he’s just…gone.”
It’s not a crime to not want to be found, Milcheck—the detective—had said. He’d gone through the motions, though, and come up empty.
“I hired a private investigator,” Haris continued. “My law firm has one on retainer. Figured if the police were going to write it off, we had to go harder.”
“My mother hired someone too,” Hena said. “No leads.”
“But people don’t just disappear. We leave digital trails. Cash runs out eventually. I can’t help but wonder, with the stuff he was involved in…” He trailed off.
Oh. She looked at him. “You—you knew?”
“He was my closest friend.” He gave her a small smile. “Yeah, I knew.”
Some of the tension in her body eased. Of course Haris knew. He was one of the few people who understood how complicated Nasir was. She was tempted to find out just how much Haris was aware of, but she’d tapped this bruise enough for one day.
“Sorry for bringing it up,” he said. “Like you don’t have enough going on.”
“You’re not bringing anything up that’s not always in the back of my mind. And hey, at least you’re not blaming me like everyone else around here does.”
He grimaced. “This community can be the worst sometimes.”
“I knew what I was getting into…but yeah, it’s bad enough to miss him, but then to be treated like I had something to do with it? It’s a lot.”
Haris wordlessly pulled her into a hug. His warmth, his steadiness—it felt good, and for a second, she let herself lean into it.
“Thanks,” she whispered when she pulled back.
“Do you still have his cat?” he asked.
“Roscoe? Of course. He turned five last week.” She pulled out her phone and showed him photos of the oversized tabby.
“Hold up.” He paused at the most recent one. “Did you really stick a birthday hat on that poor creature?”
“Of course I did. Five is a milestone year! Nasir would approve. He had a whole collection of hats for Roscoe.”
“Roscoe hated every single one.”
“Too bad he looks adorable in them. Remember the one Nasir got him for his first birthday?”
“The crown?” He laughed. “He had that true-to-life Roscoe cake commissioned too. Poor cat saw it and freaked out. Hid under the bed the rest of the evening.”
“Nasir was so disappointed we couldn’t get a group picture with him.”
Haris’s eyes softened as he scrolled through the photos. It wasn’t easy to think of Nasir, but it was comforting to talk about him with someone who loved him too.
The scent of barbecue-tinged smoke drifted over, and Haris looked toward the resort.
“Time for me to join the festivities,” he said. “I’ll see you at tomorrow’s airboat excursion?”
“I thought tomorrow was the tour of Las Olas?”
“The wedding party is going on an airboat outing. It’s supposed to be some kind of bonding exercise or something.”
“Wonderful.” Hena sighed.
He waved goodbye. As she watched him walk away, something rustled behind her.
She turned in time to see a rabbit—scruffy and gray—poke its head from the brush.
It bounded across one of the pathways, growing smaller before rounding the bend.
She pictured the alligators lurking along the trail and shivered.
Glancing at the path leading back to the bridal shower, she drew in a long breath. She had her own alligators to contend with, didn’t she?
But she had chosen to come. She chose to stay. Icy stares be damned.