CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
“Choosing us.”
The Hamptons looked nothing like Brooklyn.
The roads were quieter.
The houses larger.
The air carried the scent of the ocean instead of traffic.
As Zara stepped out of the Bellamy & Co. van, she took a deep breath.
"This is beautiful."
Naomi stretched beside her.
"It is."
She looked towards the enormous waterfront estate.
"But I'll still take New York."
Zara smiled.
"So will I."
It was the first time she'd admitted that out loud.
The wedding weekend passed in a whirlwind.
Bridesmaids lost shoes.
The florist arrived an hour late.
A groomsman split his trousers moments before photographs.
Somehow, despite everything, the ceremony was perfect.
As the newly married couple shared their first dance, Camille stood beside Zara.
"You handled yourself well this weekend."
"I had good teachers."
Camille smiled.
"You're ready."
"For what?"
"The next step."
Zara frowned.
"What next step?"
Camille looked towards the dance floor.
"I've been thinking about promoting you to Senior Event Coordinator."
Zara stared at her.
"You're serious?"
"I don't hand out compliments I don't mean."
Emotion caught in Zara's throat.
"I don't know what to say."
"Say yes when HR send the paperwork."
They both laughed.
Late Sunday afternoon, the Bellamy & Co. team finally headed back to Brooklyn.
The journey home was quieter.
Everyone was exhausted.
Naomi had fallen asleep within twenty minutes.
Camille answered emails from the front seat.
Zara rested her head against the window, watching the city skyline slowly grow larger.
Her phone buzzed.
Malik: How much longer?
She smiled.
Zara: About an hour.
Almost immediately—
Malik: Good.
Zara: You miss me already?
His reply came before she'd even locked her phone.
Malik: The apartment's too quiet without you.
She read the message twice.
Then smiled to herself.
Malik was waiting outside the brownstone when the van pulled up.
Before Zara had even climbed out, he was already lifting her suitcase onto the pavement.
"You look tired."
"I feel like I've planned twelve weddings."
"You've planned one."
"It felt like twelve."
He laughed.
"I made dinner."
She looked at him suspiciously.
"You?"
"Winston supervised."
"That makes more sense."
Naomi climbed out behind her.
She looked between them dramatically.
"I'm actually witnessing someone picking their girlfriend up from work."
Malik smiled.
"I thought that's what boyfriends did."
Naomi sighed.
"I really need to find a man."
Everyone laughed.
Later that evening, Zara wandered around Malik's apartment while he finished washing the dishes.
She noticed little things she hadn't before.
A second toothbrush already sitting beside his.
Her favourite tea stocked in the cupboard.
A blanket she'd bought folded neatly across the sofa.
The novel she'd been reading resting on his bedside table.
Without either of them talking about it...
Their lives had begun blending together.
Malik walked into the living room drying his hands.
"What are you thinking?"
She looked around slowly.
"I don't really go home anymore."
He leaned against the doorway.
"You still do."
"I sleep there."
She smiled softly.
"But this..."
She looked at him.
"...feels like home too."
Neither of them spoke for several moments.
Then Malik crossed the room.
"I've been thinking about something."
She smiled.
"I know that face."
"What face?"
"The serious one."
He laughed quietly.
"I don't want you to answer tonight."
"Okay."
"I just want you to think about it."
She nodded.
"I'm listening."
He took a slow breath.
"I think we're building a life anyway."
He glanced around the apartment.
"I don't really see the point in pretending we're not."
Her heartbeat quickened.
"I'm not asking because it saves money."
"I'm not asking because it's convenient."
"I'm asking because..."
He smiled nervously.
"...I like waking up beside you."
"And I hate the mornings you leave."
Silence.
Then—
"I'd like us to live together."
The room felt very still.
Zara looked at him.
Not shocked.
Not frightened.
Just... emotional.
"You don't have to answer."
"I know."
"I'll wait."
She walked towards him until they were standing only inches apart.
"You know what scares me?"
He nodded.
"Tell me."
"My whole life..."
"...every big decision was made because I was trying to escape something."
She reached for his hand.
"I don't want to move in because I'm running."
"I want to move in because..."
A smile spread across her face.
"...I'm choosing you."
Malik felt his chest tighten.
"So..."
She laughed softly.
"...give me a week."
"A week?"
"I need to tell Miss Claudette."
"I need to pack properly."
"And..."
She smiled.
"...I'd quite like my first time moving in with someone to involve actual boxes instead of just accidentally leaving my slippers behind."
Malik laughed.
"I think we can manage that."
He kissed her forehead.
"We'll do it properly."
Across town, Devon sat in a private office as one of his investigators placed a slim brown envelope on the desk.
"I think you'll want to see this."
Devon opened it.
Inside was a copy of Zara's personnel profile from Bellamy & Co.
A list of emergency contacts.
Previous addresses.
One name caught his attention.
Angela Brooks – Mother
Devon tapped the paper thoughtfully.
"Have we spoken to the mother yet?"
The investigator looked surprised.
"No."
Devon smiled.
"Let's change that."
The investigator hesitated.
"You really think she'll talk?"
Devon's smile widened.
"Families usually do."
He closed the folder.
"And broken families..."
"...talk the most."
Far across Brooklyn, Zara stood on Malik's balcony imagining what it would be like to build a home with the man she loved.
She had no idea that someone else had just decided to reopen every wound she'd worked so hard to leave behind.
And this time...
The attack wouldn't come through Malik.
It would come through her own family.