temptation to kick Rami squarely in the back rose up in Mia’s mind. She had been so worried for him, terrified that he’d been hurt, arrested or even killed, that she wanted to scream in his face for putting her through it.
She was relieved that Rami was apparently fine, but raw fury was clouding her judgment. I can’t even have a coffee, much less alcohol, and he’s been getting drunk as a skunk for weeks. And now this. Mia gritted her teeth and exhaled slowly. Kicking Rami wasn’t going to solve anything. It would feel good for all of about a minute, after which she’d just feel bad again.
Instead, she quietly turned and made her way back into the house. Mia didn’t quite close the door behind her as she went quickly from the entryway into the kitchen. She found one of the cut-glass pitchers that she loved and put it in the empty sink, turning the water on cold. While it filled, she moved to the fridge and filled her hands with ice cubes, dumping them into the pitcher before her hands could get too chilled. Mia shut off the water and lifted the heavy pitcher in both hands, grunting at the effort. Part of Mia was still angry at Rami for scaring her so much, part of her felt almost guilty for focusing on revenge instead of on getting the wayward man back into the house without incident.
Mia pushed the front door open just enough to get through it and step onto the welcome mat outside. She steadied the heavy pitcher in her hands and then upended it over the unconscious form of her fiancé. Rami shrieked, dropping his keys and sitting bolt upright as the last of the ice water hit his head and shoulders. “What the hell? What the—who…” his bleary gaze fell on Mia and he frowned. “Mia? What am I doing on the patio? What’s going on?”
“I found you here, passed out,” Mia said firmly. “I thought you’d like that better than me kicking you in the back.” Rami broke into a rueful smile, rubbing at his face and hair.
“Yeah, this is probably the better of the two,” he agreed, swiping water away from his face. “How did I get on the patio floor?”
“I assume you came home drunk and just couldn’t get your key to work?” Rami frowned again, reaching out to wrap his fingers back around the keys.
“That unfortunately sounds about right.” Rami said slowly. “I’m sorry, Mia.”
“Well, considering I woke up thinking you’d been in some kind of terrible accident…” Mia pressed her lips together to keep the words from tumbling out.
“I’m sorry—I should have called or texted you or something,” Rami said. A concerned look came over his face and he patted his pockets. Mia felt a twinge of guilt when he took his phone out, but a moment’s inspection proved that it hadn’t been doused. “I’m really sorry, Mia.” Rami looked up at her, and Mia thought grimly that the expression on his face was more akin to regret for the hangover he was no doubt suffering from, rather than regret at having upset her. She took a deep breath and exhaled, smiling wanly.
“Come on inside. Let’s get you out of those wet clothes and have a talk about this whole…situation.” Rami nodded and Mia watched as he stood unsteadily. She turned and went into the house, walking straight into the kitchen to start the coffee. Mia shivered slightly at the smell of the delicious, roasted grounds—she didn’t miss alcohol much, but she missed coffee. Even though the doctor had said that she could still have about a cup a day and not risk anything, Mia didn’t want to take any chances. She heard Rami close the front door behind him, and heard his feet on the floor shuffling towards the bedroom.
While Rami was getting dressed, Mia did what she could to compose her thoughts. She had let the situation go on for too long; she knew that now. Mia had tried to avoid confronting the situation for more reasons than she could enumerate—but they had reached the point of no return. Mia was terrified of the prospect of raising a child without a partner, but she thought that the way things were going with Rami, she was basically already on her own. The thought sent a chill through her spine as she made herself a cup of herbal tea, before bringing both mugs into the living room.
I can’t let things keep going like this, Mia told herself firmly. They’re not getting better and they’re not going to get better. She shook her head, looking down into her tea. Mia took a breath and tried to steel herself for a conversation that she couldn’t put off any longer.
FIVE
Rami slumped over the bathroom sink, his forehead pressed against the mirror. He told himself that he would wipe the smudge away before he left. “I fucked up royally this time,” he muttered to himself, cringing. He had seen the look on Mia’s face. He knew what that look meant: he’d pushed her too far, beyond her ability to turn a blind eye.
If I had just managed to get in the house last night. If I hadn’t been such an idiot and passed out on the front porch. But Rami knew better; he had been pushing Mia’s tolerance for weeks. He knew she was disappointed in him, and he felt more than a little guilty for how poorly he was handling his mother’s ultimatum, and the discovery that he was adopted. How much really changed when he found out that his mother hadn’t given birth to him? It explains a lot, actually, Rami thought bitterly.
He stripped off his dirty, wet clothes, looking at himself in the mirror. Rami wished he had time to take a good, long shower, shave, and prepare himself for the conversation he knew Mia wanted to have. Maybe, if he had the time to do those things, he would recover enough to be able to call up the words he needed to convince her to give him another chance. But if he got into the shower and made her wait, he would only make her angrier. Rami splashed some warm water on his face and did the best that he could with a comb and a little cologne, changing into a tee shirt and jeans, wishing it were a normal Saturday morning and that they were planning to head down to the farmer’s market after their breakfast. Gathering up his courage, Rami walked out of the bedroom and into the living room.
Mia was sitting on the couch, looking into her mug of tea as if it might offer her answers, and Rami remembered the stories his nanny had told him about the witches that told the future in pools of water. Is she seeing a future without me in it? Rami swallowed as he approached her, before sinking down onto the couch. “Thanks for making coffee,” he said, smiling weakly. “I’m sorry, again, Mia. I should have been more responsible.” Mia looked up from her drink and the look in her eyes made Rami’s heart sink, even though he’d been expecting it.
“Yes,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact but not cruel. “You should have been.” Mia put her mug aside.
“Mia,” Rami started, reaching for her hands. “I know I’ve been a terrible fiancé, but I swear—I swear to God—I can do better. I can be better for you, and for our baby.” Mia met his gaze and Rami saw the tears gathered in her eyes, not quite spilling onto her cheeks.
“If you can, then why aren’t you? Why haven’t you, Rami?” Mia shook her head, inhaling a shaky breath. “I can’t stay here if you plan to keep acting like this. If you can’t support me, if you can’t be here for me…” She shrugged. “If I’m going to be on my own even with you here, I’m better off being on my own.”
“Please don’t say that,” Rami said, giving Mia’s hands a careful squeeze. “Please, Mia.”
“I just don’t see how I can do this any other way,” Mia said, her voice breaking slightly as she spoke. “I know I should have spoken up sooner, but I kept hoping you would pull yourself out of this on your own. I kept thinking that you’re strong enough to figure it out.” Mia shook her head again. “But I am starting to think that you’re not going to be able to pull out of this on your own, and I can’t be the one to support you right now.” Mia tugged one of her hands free of Rami’s grasp and pressed it to her abdomen. “I have to take care of me, I have to take care of this child. I need you to be here for us.”
“I can do that,” Rami said, reaching out and placing his hand as gently as possible over Mia’s. “I can clean up my act. I can be here for you.” Mia’s face twisted into an expression of pure doubt.
“I know that it’s been difficult for you,” Mia said. “I can only imagine
how much it would shake me to find out that I was adopted if I hadn’t been told as a child. But…” she took a breath and exhaled slowly. “If we’re going to stay together, you have to come to terms with that just…like right now. I need you to promise me that you’re going to be able to do that. I know it’s a shock, and it’s not fair, but it’s been over a month, Rami.”
“I know, I know,” Rami insisted. “It’s perfectly fair of you to expect me to do my part, and I will do it. I swear to you, I will stop drinking as of right now. I will take care of you.” He pressed his lips together. “Are you sure it’s okay for you to be spending so much time taking care of your mother? I can give you more money to make sure she has someone to take her places and run errands, you know.”
Mia’s eyes narrowed into a scowl. “A big part of the reason I’ve been spending so much time with her is because you leave me by myself so often,” she said tartly. “I care a lot about her, but I also get really lonely. I can’t spend all my time alone in the house, Rami!”
“I’m sorry, Mia, I didn’t realize,” Rami said sheepishly. His embarrassment deepened. “I promise that I won’t leave you alone like that again.”
“I wish I could believe you,” Mia said, sighing. “But I mean…” she bit her bottom lip, stroking her abdomen slowly, almost absently. “How can I believe that you could totally change your behavior in a single day?”
“You mean so much to me,” Rami told her, holding Mia’s gaze. “You and the baby both. I can and I will do this for you.” He swallowed, taking a breath to steady himself. Passing out in front of my own front door is a wake-up call no matter what else is going on in my life. I should never have let it get this far. “I wish you had confronted me sooner.” Rami held up one hand to stall Mia’s response as he saw the annoyance on her face. “I know it’s not your job to correct me, or to try and take care of me like that—but this has to have been bothering you for a long time. Maybe we wouldn’t be where we are right now if you hadn’t waited to say something until you were ready to leave me.” Mia pressed her lips together and Rami knew she was pushing down the first, heated thing that rose to her tongue.
“Okay, I can accept that,” she said finally. “But I shouldn’t have to tell you that going out and getting drunk multiple times a week is a freaking terrible idea—especially when your pregnant fiancée is having a difficult time.” She pulled her hand free of his grip and crossed both arms over her chest. “I feel like that’s something that a grown man should be able to figure out on his own, don’t you?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Rami admitted, feeling his face burn with a blush. “It’s something I should have been able to pull myself out of.” He looked down at his hands. “I can only say that I’m sorry, and that from now on I will absolutely be the man that you need me to be—that our child needs me to be. I just hope that you will give me another chance.”
Silence hung between them for a long moment, and Rami didn’t quite dare to meet his lover’s gaze. As seconds ticked by, and Rami waited for Mia to respond—to give him some indication of whether or not she was going to be able to accept his apology—Rami’s sense of dread increased. She’s going to say she needs time, and then she’s going to leave. And once she leaves, she’s not going to come back.
Rami was about to open his mouth, to try and conjure up the words to explain to Mia how he was feeling, but just as he tried to speak again, his phone buzzed urgently in his pocket. It began playing the ringtone he had assigned to his family, and Rami scrambled to fish the device out. “Sorry about this, please give me just a minute. I haven’t spoken to my family since we last saw my parents, Mia, this could be really important,” Rami said. He glanced at Mia in time to see her nod. The number that flashed across the screen was not, however, his mother’s—or even his father’s. It was his sister’s picture and name that showed. Rami frowned and accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear. “Karima, what’s going on? It’s kind of a bad time…” He heard his sister gasp for breath.
“It’s Ba…” her voice was punctuated by sobs. “Ba-ba is dead, Rami.” The phone nearly slipped from his fingers and Rami opened his mouth in shock as the words filtered through his startled brain.
“What—what do you mean? What are you saying? Slow down, Karima” He heard his sister take a breath on the other end of the phone line.
“Father died last night,” Karima said, her voice only marginally steadier. “He was coming back to the h-h-house from a dinner with friends and he was...he was…” Karima wailed, “He was hit. His car was hit. The doctors tried to revive him but…” Rami sank back on the couch as his sister descended into tears, losing the ability to form words. Rami stared into space for a long moment, trying to wrap his mind around the news.
“Karima,” Rami said finally, “I’m so sorry. I have to make some arrangements, I’ll call you back as soon as possible.” Karima managed to regain control long enough to agree, and Rami tapped the icon to disconnect the call. He turned towards Mia. “My father died last night,” he said, feeling strangely numb. Mia’s eyes widened and Rami watched as the tears that had been gathering began to spill down her cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, Rami,” Mia said, reaching for his hands and giving them a gentle squeeze. “I know how it feels to lose a father. I’m so sorry.” Rami nodded, feeling as though his head had somehow become disconnected from his body.
“I’m going to need to go to my family,” Rami said slowly. “I’m the eldest son. I have…I have responsibilities.” Rami stood up unsteadily. “Can we—can we talk more about us in a little bit? I need to make some phone calls.”
“Of course,” Mia said quickly. “You have to take care of your mom and everybody. We can…we can talk later.” Rami nodded and turned to walk to his office, trying to force his brain out of the numb shock that had descended on it so he could begin thinking about everything that he would now need to do.
SIX
Mia watched Rami walk out of the room, wondering if she should follow him. He had seemed unemotional, or numb, on hearing the news about his father. Mia could still hear his voice in her mind. She had no idea what exactly Rami’s sister had said, but his replies to her had been almost eerily calm. When she heard the office door close behind him, Mia sank backwards against the couch cushions, sighing. “Well I can’t just up and leave him now,” she muttered, to no one in particular. Her hand found the curve of her abdomen and Mia closed her eyes, remembering all too vividly how much pain her own father’s passing had brought with it.
Rami had told her more than once that while he had always sought his father’s approval, he had always been distant, barely aware of Rami’s existence on a day-to-day level. “The only times he noticed me were holidays, report cards, and whenever I got into trouble,” Rami had said once. “I think he only remembered my birthday because his secretary reminded him about it. But I have to admit he never failed to get me an amazing present.”
Mia had struggled for months to get her head around Rami’s upbringing, as vastly different from her own as it was. She still couldn’t comprehend how someone’s parents could be so emotionally uninvolved in their child’s life. The Campbells had given Mia so much love, right from her earliest memories of them, and she had been a teenager before she realized that not everyone’s parents were as invested as her mother and father were in her. “And they adopted him,” Mia mused out loud. Why would someone adopt a child if they didn’t desperately want to love the little boy or girl they took on? It didn’t make any sense to Mia at all.
She stood up slowly, feeling the ache in her ankles. In his haste to leave, Rami had abandoned his cup of coffee, and Mia had a feeling that he was definitely going to need it in the course of whatever preparations he would be making in the next few hours. Mia took the mug to the office door and stopped to listen through the solid wood for a moment. She could hear Rami’s voice, quietly giving instructions over the phone. He sounded so patient and calm. It was hard to believe that he was g
iving commands that were to do with the death of one of his parents.
But then, when Dad died, I wasn’t just wallowing around crying, either, Mia remembered. She had done her best to stay strong for her mother. She had helped make the arrangements, helped meet with the