Chapter 2

Zaria's POV

“You performed the duties of a wife when all I gave you.was just a promise ring.” His voice replayed in my head over and over again as I sat on my suitcase, duffel on my lap and the night sent chills down my spine.

My phone was in my hand. I opened my contacts and scrolled to Priya. Priya lived with her parents on the other side of the city and her mother already thought I was a bad influence from an incident in 2019 that I did not have the energy to revisit tonight. I kept scrolling.

I couldn't call mum. Things were finally going right and breaking this news to her would ruin everything so I scrolled past her, stopping at my cousin's.

I stared at his name for a second then pressed call.

He picked up on the third ring, which meant he'd been awake. "Zaria?"

"Hey." My voice was still wrecked. I cleared my throat. "Are you home?"

A pause. "What happened?"

"I just need to know if you're home, David." I tried to steady my voice. “Can I come over?”

"Zaria—"

"Please.” A lump formed in my throat and I swallowed, calming myself down. “Just let me come over.”

He was quiet for a second. Then, "Yeah. I'm home. Should I come and pick you up or—"

"I'm coming.” I cut him off. “I have two suitcases and a bag."

"I have a door that opens. Come."

I got up and called a cab and we drove away to David's apartment that was a thirty minute drive.

All through the drive, I scrolled through my i* that had become a place for Callum's picture. Where did it all go wrong?

“We're here ma'am.” The driver announced as he brought the car to a halt. I got out, grabbed my stuff, paid and dragged my bags inside.

Davud had texted me the door code and told me he'd left his key under the mat because he'd just gotten into the shower. Second floor, apartment 204.

I got my bags up the stairs in two trips, let myself in, and stood in the entrance for a moment.

The apartment was bigger than I expected for two people. Open living area, kitchen off to the side, two hallways going in separate directions. Shoes by the door — two pairs of David's, which I recognized, and a larger pair I didn't. A gym bag was open on the couch and a half eaten bowl of something on the kitchen counter.

Right. The roommate.

I didn't know much about him beyond the fact that he existed. Dami had mentioned him in passing a few times — teammate, same club, they'd been sharing the place since the start of the season. I hadn't asked more than that and I wasn't going to start now. I just needed a bed and a ceiling and enough quiet to get through the night.

David had said the spare room was the second door on the left.

I dragged my suitcase down the hall, pushed the door open and turned the light on. It was a small room, a single bed made up neatly, a window that looked out onto the street below. I put my bags down and sat on the edge of the mattress.

The quiet came all at once and then so did everything else.

I don't even know when I moved from sitting to lying down but I was on my side with my knees pulled up and I was crying.

Four years. I had cooked in that kitchen and paid half of everything and turned down a job opportunity in another city because we were building something here and it had all been nothing. It had all been me constructing an entire future out of materials only I believed in while he stood there and let me.

“No man will want a woman like you who is so desperate when she's in love.”

What could I have done? I wailed. Is it bad if a woman decided to love and cherish a man she believed she was going to spend the rest of her life with?

"Why," I said out loud, to nobody. "Why would you do that? After everything—"

I pressed my face into the pillow, soaking it with my tears.

“After everything I did. After everything I gave you.”

I didn't hear the door until I turned over to reach for my phone and found a man standing in the doorway with his arms folded. He had his arm over his mouth, his shoulders shaking. He was trying to hold in his laughter.

I froze, tears running down my cheeks and my eyes red and he burst out laughing.

I sat up and stared at him. "What—"

"I'm sorry." He held up a hand, still laughing. "I'm sorry, I'm not — it's not funny, it's just—" another laugh escaped. "You were going so hard."

"Excuse me?"

He straightened up and pressed his mouth together, getting it under control. He leaned against the door frame and looked at me with something that wasn't quite sympathy but wasn't cruelty either.

"Crying over a man," he said, "is genuinely the worst thing that can happen to a woman."

I blinked. "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" He raised an eyebrow. "I live here. Who are you?"

"I'm David’s….” I cleared my voice to get rid of the groggines. “David's cousin."

His face shifted. "Ohhh." He nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah he did say something about that." He pushed off the door frame, walked over, and patted me twice on the head like I was a labrador retriever. "You'll be fine. Heartbreaks are part of life."

I stared up at him, confused when he ruffled my hair, making my look worse.

"You will," he said, with the confidence of someone who had decided the matter was settled. He straightened and looked around the room then back at me. "Have you eaten?"

"What?"

"Eaten. Food. Have you had any?" He was already turning toward the door. "Because I haven't and I am genuinely struggling right now and I think we should do something about lunch."

I opened my mouth and closed it. Here I was homeless, heartbroken, crying out and sitting on my cousin's spare bed at — I checked my phone — eleven forty-seven at night, and this man was standing in my doorway thinking about food.

"Okay," I managed to speak.

“Fine, I know it's late for a midnight snack but let's eat. Crying over a man on a hungry stomach will land you in the hospital.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah, so let's get you something to eat.”