CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
“Tell me before I have ro ask.”
The apartment felt unusually quiet that evening.
Rain tapped gently against the windows while a pot of curry simmered on the stove.
Normally, Zara would have music playing.
Tonight, she didn't.
Malik noticed the silence the moment he walked through the door.
"You okay?"
She looked up from the chopping board and smiled.
"I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
She handed him a spoon.
"Taste this."
He did.
"Needs more thyme."
She smiled.
"I knew you'd say that."
For a while, everything felt normal.
They cooked together.
They laughed when Malik dropped a wooden spoon onto the floor.
They argued over whether rice should be served first or last.
If someone had walked into the apartment, they would've thought nothing was wrong.
But beneath the ordinary...
Something waited.
After dinner, Zara carried two mugs of tea into the living room.
She sat beside Malik on the sofa and tucked one leg underneath herself.
"You said you wanted to ask me something."
She nodded.
"I do."
Her voice was calm.
Not angry.
Not suspicious.
Just... careful.
"Lena."
Malik's shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly.
"What about her?"
"I don't want to know every person you've ever dated."
He listened.
"I know we both had lives before we met."
"I respect that."
She looked into his eyes.
"But..."
She took a slow breath.
"I don't ever want to feel like I'm finding things out by accident."
The words landed heavily between them.
Malik looked down at his mug.
"I understand."
"No..."
She shook her head gently.
"I don't think you do."
He frowned.
"When I saw her name on your phone..."
"...it wasn't the fact she existed that bothered me."
"It was the feeling that I'd missed part of the story."
He closed his eyes for a brief moment.
"You're right."
She waited.
"I should've told you."
"Why didn't you?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Because the truth wasn't flattering.
"I thought..."
He sighed.
"...if I told you about seeing her, you'd think it meant more than it did."
"And did it?"
"No."
His answer came without hesitation.
"Not even a little."
"So tell me."
He nodded slowly.
He told her everything.
How Lena had come to his office unexpectedly.
How she'd apologised.
How she'd lost her mother.
How she'd wanted to make peace with the people she'd hurt.
How he'd made it clear his life had moved on.
How he'd told her about Zara.
And how she'd left.
When he finished, the apartment fell quiet again.
"That's all?"
"That's all."
"You haven't seen her since?"
"No."
"You haven't called her?"
"No."
"You haven't replied to her messages?"
He picked up his phone, unlocked it and handed it to her.
"Look."
She hesitated.
"I don't want to invade your privacy."
"I know."
"But I also don't want you wondering."
She looked at the message thread.
Three messages.
All from Lena.
None answered.
The last one simply read:
I genuinely hope you're happy.
Nothing else.
She handed the phone back.
"I believe you."
Relief softened his features.
"But..."
He nodded.
"I know."
"You still should've told me."
"I know."
Malik leaned back against the sofa.
"I've spent so many years trying to leave my past behind..."
"...that sometimes my instinct is to pretend it doesn't exist."
Zara reached for his hand.
"I don't need you to have a perfect past."
"I know."
"I just need you to let me walk through it with you."
He looked at her.
"You'd still choose me?"
She smiled sadly.
"I already did."
Silence settled over them.
Then Malik spoke again.
"I need to make you another promise."
She laughed softly.
"You like making promises."
"I know."
"This one's important."
He turned fully towards her.
"From now on..."
"...if someone from my past comes back into my life..."
"...you'll hear it from me before you hear it from anyone else."
She held his gaze.
"And if someone from mine comes back..."
"...I'll do the same."
He smiled.
"Deal."
They linked little fingers together like children.
Zara laughed.
"We're adults."
"I know."
"But this feels legally binding."
She rolled her eyes.
"You are ridiculous."
"And yet..."
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
"...you're still here."
"I am."
The following afternoon, Zara was leaving Bellamy & Co. when someone called her name.
"Miss Brooks?"
She turned.
A woman in a smart navy blazer approached with a notebook in her hand.
"I'm sorry to bother you."
"I'm with the New York Ledger."
Zara's smile faded politely.
"I'm not doing interviews."
"I only have one question."
"I'm sorry."
The reporter held up a photograph.
It was Malik.
Leaving his office.
Lena walking beside him.
The image had been cropped tightly.
It looked intimate.
"Do you know this woman?"
For a split second, Zara's heart stopped.
She recognised Lena immediately.
The reporter watched her expression carefully.
"Is there trouble in paradise?"
Zara looked down at the photograph.
Then back at the reporter.
"No."
She smiled calmly.
"There's trouble with your photography."
The reporter blinked.
"What?"
"You've cropped out the rest of the pavement."
"The receptionist."
"The security guard."
"And probably half of Manhattan."
She handed the photograph back.
"If you're trying to tell a story..."
"...at least tell the whole one."
Without another word, she walked away.
The reporter watched her leave, disappointed.
From the opposite side of the street, a man lowered a camera.
He'd captured everything.
The conversation.
The photograph.
Zara's reaction.
He dialled a familiar number.
"Boss."
Devon answered immediately.
"Well?"
"She didn't bite."
Devon was quiet for a moment.
Then he smiled.
"That's alright."
He looked at another envelope on his desk.
Inside were older photographs.
Older messages.
Older memories.
"We've only shown her one piece of the puzzle."
He closed the folder carefully.
"Next time..."
"...we'll give her a reason not to believe him."
Across Brooklyn, Malik stood in his office looking out over the city.
Across Manhattan, Zara travelled home on the subway, thinking about the promise they'd made the night before.
Neither of them realised that trust isn't usually destroyed by one enormous lie.
More often...
It's worn away one carefully planned doubt at a time.