If I Say No, page 18
And he leans in to press his cheek against mine. His face is so warm.
He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t move. His grip on my hands doesn’t tighten or loosen. He just inhales deeply and my heart races at the thought of being caught like this by my neighbours. Husband or no, public displays of affection are a big no-no for Bengalis.
But it doesn’t feel uncomfortable, that’s why I don’t move away until a good six or seven seconds later. Which is when he drops my hands and cups my neck. His thumbs caress my cheeks. His hands are so warm. He comes in again, slowly this time. I feel his lips, warm and soft, pressing into my forehead. My eyes close on their own.
It’s over quickly, though. I open my eyes in time to see him swallow.
We open our mouths to speak but the lights come on in the living room and footsteps sound behind the front door. I have no idea what Imran was going to say, but I know what was about to roll off my tongue:
That was nice.
Chapter 71
Seb
I explain that she has me wrong, but Charlotte’s mind is made up. She shrugs into her jacket, swings her bag over her shoulder, and starts ordering a cab through an App on her phone. I don’t want her to go.
“I’ll drive you.” I cover her phone with my hand. “I mean, don’t leave yet.”
“It’s best that I get a cab,” she insists, pushing my hand away and ordering a cab. “It’s best that we go back to—that we remain just friends. Friends that don’t eat out together or go to weddings together.”
I don’t want to go back. “Charlotte...”
“You’re a nice guy, Seb,” she tells me without looking up. “You shouldn’t settle. I don’t want to settle, either. Maybe you shouldn’t invest in the shop—”
“No!” I cry out. The rest of my words come out in a rush because pulling out of this investment is the one thing I cannot do. “I can’t. It’s too late. I’ve already spent the money,” I lie. “I’ve signed the contracts, you know. It would cost me more to exit. I mean, I could get charged for fraud if I back out now.” More lies.
Which she believes. Thank God she doesn’t know much about private equity.
“Okay, fine,” she replies, distractedly. “We’ll keep our relationship professional. A business relationship. It’s how it should have been from the start.”
This wasn’t the outcome I’d foreseen. Not the worst-case scenario I was afraid of. This is much worse.
“I don’t think I can go back,” I murmur.
I think my heart was hoping to go forward with her... The thought of losing her makes me see how attached I’ve become. How much she already means to me. But I don’t want to push her too hard to stay, to listen, in case she thinks I’m coming on too strong. In case she changes her mind about the investment.
“You’ll have to try, Seb.” Finally, she looks up from her phone. “You have to learn to love yourself. Maybe then, you’ll accept that others will love you as you are.”
How perceptive she is. Shell said the same thing, only she’d seen more of the darkness in me. Despite keeping that side of me hidden from Charlotte, she’s arrived at the same conclusion as the last woman that walked out of my door.
Well, this time, it’s my mum’s door that Charlotte leaves through, but it’s still my heart that breaks.
I bloody hate that sound.
Chapter 72
Shell
By the time I finish getting ready for bed in the bathroom and return to my old bedroom, Imran has fallen asleep. Good. He didn’t sleep at all last night. I decide not to get into bed just yet. Let him fall into a deeper sleep first. I sit on the floor next to the bed and flip through the photos he took of us today.
I look happy. No one would be able to tell from these pictures that I’m fighting several ghosts and battles in my head. But I made an effort for Imran. He deserves to look back on these early memories and think, Yeah, those first couple of days after the wedding were nice. We had a good time.
And we did, I suppose.
Our first kiss wasn’t horrible, either. From the look on Imran’s face, I think it was a big deal for him. Epic, even. I’m glad I didn’t do anything to ruin the moment for him.
Of course, I didn’t feel a spark. There was no desire to wrap my arms around him and bring him closer. But at least I wasn’t repulsed by the feel of his lips on my skin. I was worried that I’d cringe away. Thus, give myself away. Or worse: Wish that Seb was touching me instead.
Sin. It would have been a sin if that thought crossed my mind. I’m so relieved that Sebastian Lowe was very far from my thoughts during that kiss.
How long can I keep this up? New Bride responsibilities are keeping my mind occupied; when Seb peeks through these distractions, I’m able to push him out of my head. Will he take over my mind once things calm down at home? I don’t know what I’ll do if that’s the case.
Part Three
What Is Heartbreak?
Shell
Heartbreak? Like life, you just get on with it.
Charlotte
Heartbreak is an old friend whose jokes don’t make you laugh anymore, and an enemy whose taunting doesn’t touch you anymore. I’m not afraid of it anymore.
Seb
Heartbreak is all I’ve known when I’ve given my heart away. My heart, they easily accept—and squash it just as easily with their dainty little fingers.
Chapter 73
Charlotte
It’s been a long time since Nan insisted on having a Sunday roast. It smells great; I wish I had more of an appetite. Seen as I wasn’t opening the shop today, she sent me to buy a chicken from the Sainsbury’s on the High Road and some veggies to go with it. Her argument was that she’s helping me with my Halloween bakes for tomorrow, the least I can do is indulge her sudden craving for roast chicken.
Deep down, I know she’s just trying to cheer me up. That’s why she talked me into doing some Halloween baking. I didn’t feel like doing anything.
“I’m so silly,” she says as we sit down at the dining table. “We could have invited Seb.”
Of course, she’s figured out that something happened between me and Seb last night. I went straight to my room after getting back from his mum’s house. Nan also saw that the car that dropped me off wasn’t Seb’s now-familiar vehicle. Couple that with me taking today off work—the day before Halloween, when we usually sell a few extra bits and pieces—she’d have to be really thick to not conclude that I’m having boy problems.
I feel like I’ve made a huge mistake by breaking up with him. My heart is aching to see him again, to hear his voice. Damn it, I didn’t even get to kiss him! I bet he’s a great kisser—
Stop. Distract yourself. Be stronger. You did the right thing. A few more weeks with him, and I’d have been too attached to see the truth. Or ignored it. He only wants me because he thinks no one else will want him.
“Seb and I broke up, Nan,” I say as I stab a slice of chicken with my fork and bring it to my plate.
“Oh.” Nan puts her cutlery down. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Oh, wow, Nan,” I chuckle without humour. “No ‘you’re better off without him’ or ‘he’s not worth it’? He’ll be chuffed to know you’re not lumping him with the others.”
“The others were idiots,” she almost snaps. “Seb seemed like... He genuinely liked you.”
“He did,” I sigh. I felt real affection in his touch, detected true hurt in his eyes when I ended things. “Just for the wrong reasons, that’s all.”
“What does that mean?” She gives me a look loaded with curiosity and disapproval.
“It’s private, Nan.” Seb’s secret is not mine to share. “I’m fine. I’ll get over it.” I shrug for her benefit.
“Of course, you will.” She picks up her knife and fork. “You always do. Soldier, you are.”
“And the right guy will come along, right?” I ask with a roll of my eyes.
Nan starts laughing. “Back in my day, yes,” she says. “Boys these days? They haven’t a clue!” Nan shakes her head, unimpressed. “These days, Charlotte dear, you have to go get the right man. They won’t come to you. They don’t know where they’re going half the time.”
I can’t help but laugh at the truth in her words.
“This Seb, though,” she murmurs thoughtfully. “He seemed to know exactly where he was going...”
“Nan!” I moan half-heartedly. “You hardly said anything nice about him when I was with him. Now you’re making me feel guilty for breaking up with him.”
“Well, I had to play the bad cop, didn’t I? Seen as your father—”
“And I really don’t want to talk about dad right now.” I don’t like using such a harsh tone with her but she brings him up when I least expect it and my temper flares.
“He keeps calling for you,” she says with a plea in her voice. “The kids want to see you—”
“Yeah, right!” I’m not close with my step-siblings and I’m pretty certain they wouldn’t care if I died. “Nan, today really isn’t the day to discuss dad.”
I’m trying not to let my break-up with Seb affect me too much, but talking about dad is the only thing that can make me feel worse than I already do.
“Can we just eat lunch and get back to baking?”
“Fine,” she breathes out. “But you’ll have to face him one day, dear.”
“Not if I can help it.”
Chapter 74
Shell
My eyes are swollen and sore. Stinging. Blinking hurts. Keeping my eyes open hurts. Closing them doesn’t help, either. Imran’s eyes are fixed on the rear view mirror of my brother’s car, watching me. Making sure I’m okay. I know he wishes he was in the backseat with me, holding my hand.
I wish that, too.
He sat in the passenger seat when his Dulabhai drove us to my parents’ house and he’s doing the same as my brother gives us a lift back to my in-laws’. Even though we’re married, we’re expected to keep our distance when others are around. Some couples feel shy about sitting next to each other in public places, so that’s alright. Others find it a little exasperating. I’m feeling like that now.
It’s awfully lonely back here.
I’m still raw from the tearful farewell with my parents. Relieved tears continue to fall, albeit silently, as we near Chadwell Heath. Mum and dad forgave me for the pain I caused them and I owe Imran so much for this. When we were saying goodbye, he asked my parents to forgive him if he’s said or done anything to upset them. Surprised, we just stared at him. People say things like that if they’re going away for a significant period of time.
His unexpected gesture alerted me to the fact that I should ask for forgiveness, too. As I hugged my mum and repeated Imran’s words to her, I broke down into tears. I couldn’t stop crying, especially after both my parents asked me to forgive them if they did wrong by me. I didn’t think I’d ever stop sobbing when they assured me that I was forgiven. They forgave me, I kept thinking as I howled my soul out. Things will go back to normal.
I may have unloaded a lifetime’s supply of tears while I cried in my mum’s arms—the girl that rarely cries, cried for her entire street!—and it wasn’t just for my family. I was a whirlwind of emotions. Seb and Imran were at the forefront of my mind—missing the former and feeling guilty over the latter—but I was also dreading the drama I’ll have to put up with in my married life.
Imran’s blood family seem like good people, but so had Didi at first. What if everyone’s true colours are like hers? I’m not used to people picking on me or having issues with what I do. Will I be able to cope if my in-laws turn on me?
I cried on and on. Even Shayla and Bhabi succumbed to the moment, sniffling loudly. My brother tried to calm us down but failed. Everyone seemed to have forgotten that my in-laws were expecting us home by 3pm. We even had an early lunch to keep to that deadline.
Thank goodness Imran stepped in when he did. He promised I could visit my family whenever I wanted. “We live so close by,” he murmured after peeling me away from my mum and wrapping his arms around me. “I’ll drop you off any time. Just let me know when you want to visit.”
I sagged into his embrace and he rubbed my back as I cried myself out. Yes, the two of us obviously don’t feel shy around each other in public. Not when I’m balling my eyes out, anyway.
Now that I think about it, it’s a good thing for my family to see Imran showing me affection, and see me welcoming it. They’ll be relieved, thinking that I’m happy to have married him, after all. Their assumptions might not be hundred percent accurate—happy is a very strong word—but if it means they’ll worry less about me, I won’t correct them.
Besides, who’s to say that I’ll never be happy with Imran? We’re already so comfortable with each other. We might get our happy ever after sooner rather than later. That’s the plan, anyway.
Chapter 75
Seb
I should have known the shop would be closed. Not because it’s Sunday—Charlotte’s Cakes do business seven days a week—but because Charlotte couldn’t bear to come into work. It hurts to think of her in that state.
Well, I’m not doing so well myself. That doesn’t make up for the pain I caused her, of course. Pain I never intended to inflict on her. Never did it cross my mind that she’d see things that way. She needs to know it wasn’t like that.
I’m about to walk away from the shop to drive to her house when I catch my reflection on the glass panels in the door. I look just as dreadful as I feel. There was a time when I couldn’t bear to look at myself in the mirror. I can’t remember when I got over that aversion.
When I graduated Uni and returned to my old life, a lot of my PTSD symptoms started to fade away. Becoming obsessed with raising my fund also helped distract me. I was incredibly lucky—the symptoms don’t go away for a lot of sufferers. Besides, I don’t think I’ll ever be cured of it. It will be a case of trying to manage the anxiety, deal with the dips and peaks over a lifetime.
Last nigh, talking about the... acid attack... brought back the anxiety and nightmares that plagued me at Uni. The fear of going to sleep... locking the windows and doors... checking and double-checking that no one was in my room... deciding it was best not go to sleep at all...
It’s why I didn’t have flat mates in my second and third years of Uni; I rented studio apartments instead. Just me and my sparsely furnished room, no nooks or crevices where anyone could hide. It suits me fine that my current flat hardly has any furniture. If Shell thought my living room was a tad bare, she would have pitied my bedroom.
Bedroom. Despite what I led Imran and others to believe, I’ve never shared my bed with anyone since Taiba. I didn’t want to, obviously. If I had, the thought of falling asleep with someone next to me... someone who might wake up while I was sleeping... No. Giving someone that kind of power over me is not an option...
My PTSD symptoms may have gradually diminished over the years, but if somebody was to sleepover in my flat, I’d never close my eyes.
Revealing my burns to Shell and Charlotte wasn’t as horrible as I’d expected. The burden—of wearing my secrets on my skin—felt lighter. Especially after Shell showed me that she didn’t care what lurked beneath my suits. She still loved me and wanted to run away with me.
If we did leave London and move in together, I know she would have understood my... forced insomnia. She would have tried to help me sleep. Been patient with me and given me however much time I needed to become comfortable enough to sleep beside her.
I don’t know if I would have been brave enough to bare my soul to Charlotte if it wasn’t for Shell. Thanks to her, I’m no longer anxious about repelling women. The right ones, anyway. I suppose I expected Charlotte to react the same way as Shell did to my scars.
As for the bad dreams... I hope they’re not back for good. I stayed at my mum’s last night; I wasn’t fit to drive back to Bethnal Green. I kept myself awake, once again terrified of closing my eyes. Due to sheer exhaustion, however, I fell asleep when it started to get light. A familiar nightmare jolted me awake soon after and my hands reached for my stomach, expecting to find wet skin and hot acid. I think I screamed but mum didn’t hear it.
After an hour of tossing and turning, I dozed off again, thankfully into a dreamless sleep. Mum woke me up to have lunch with her. She asked how things went with Charlotte and I told her that we sort of split up. I didn’t give her any details but she gathered that the break up wasn’t initiated by me.
“But I’m going to get her back,” I assured her.
She gave me a sad smile. “You really like her, don’t you?”
“I do.” I really do care about Charlotte.
I like how strong she is. I love the sound of her laugh, even if it’s at my expense. I like being around her. I want her in my life. For more reasons than when I first asked her out.
“Well,” mum said, “you better eat up and go get her.”
I better. Sighing, I turn away from Charlotte’s Cakes and head for my car.
“Seb!”
I freeze. My heart drops.
“Seb, hey!” The voice sounds a lot closer now.
Before I know it, I’m twisting on the spot and coming face-to-face with my best friend. And his new wife.
Chapter 76
Shell
We couldn’t convince my brother to come inside for a cuppa. He helped Imran get our stuff out of his boot, climbed back into his car, and drove off. As we turned to head into the house, Imran asked me if I was alright. I said I was even though I wasn’t and he knew it straightaway.
“Your eyes are still puffy,” he murmured. “Will you hate me if I said you still look cute?” He made a sheepish face. I tried to smile. “Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested. “Fresh air might clear your head.” I didn’t argue. He locked our overnight bags and gift bags in his car boot. “Lucky I always have my car keys with me!”
He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t move. His grip on my hands doesn’t tighten or loosen. He just inhales deeply and my heart races at the thought of being caught like this by my neighbours. Husband or no, public displays of affection are a big no-no for Bengalis.
But it doesn’t feel uncomfortable, that’s why I don’t move away until a good six or seven seconds later. Which is when he drops my hands and cups my neck. His thumbs caress my cheeks. His hands are so warm. He comes in again, slowly this time. I feel his lips, warm and soft, pressing into my forehead. My eyes close on their own.
It’s over quickly, though. I open my eyes in time to see him swallow.
We open our mouths to speak but the lights come on in the living room and footsteps sound behind the front door. I have no idea what Imran was going to say, but I know what was about to roll off my tongue:
That was nice.
Chapter 71
Seb
I explain that she has me wrong, but Charlotte’s mind is made up. She shrugs into her jacket, swings her bag over her shoulder, and starts ordering a cab through an App on her phone. I don’t want her to go.
“I’ll drive you.” I cover her phone with my hand. “I mean, don’t leave yet.”
“It’s best that I get a cab,” she insists, pushing my hand away and ordering a cab. “It’s best that we go back to—that we remain just friends. Friends that don’t eat out together or go to weddings together.”
I don’t want to go back. “Charlotte...”
“You’re a nice guy, Seb,” she tells me without looking up. “You shouldn’t settle. I don’t want to settle, either. Maybe you shouldn’t invest in the shop—”
“No!” I cry out. The rest of my words come out in a rush because pulling out of this investment is the one thing I cannot do. “I can’t. It’s too late. I’ve already spent the money,” I lie. “I’ve signed the contracts, you know. It would cost me more to exit. I mean, I could get charged for fraud if I back out now.” More lies.
Which she believes. Thank God she doesn’t know much about private equity.
“Okay, fine,” she replies, distractedly. “We’ll keep our relationship professional. A business relationship. It’s how it should have been from the start.”
This wasn’t the outcome I’d foreseen. Not the worst-case scenario I was afraid of. This is much worse.
“I don’t think I can go back,” I murmur.
I think my heart was hoping to go forward with her... The thought of losing her makes me see how attached I’ve become. How much she already means to me. But I don’t want to push her too hard to stay, to listen, in case she thinks I’m coming on too strong. In case she changes her mind about the investment.
“You’ll have to try, Seb.” Finally, she looks up from her phone. “You have to learn to love yourself. Maybe then, you’ll accept that others will love you as you are.”
How perceptive she is. Shell said the same thing, only she’d seen more of the darkness in me. Despite keeping that side of me hidden from Charlotte, she’s arrived at the same conclusion as the last woman that walked out of my door.
Well, this time, it’s my mum’s door that Charlotte leaves through, but it’s still my heart that breaks.
I bloody hate that sound.
Chapter 72
Shell
By the time I finish getting ready for bed in the bathroom and return to my old bedroom, Imran has fallen asleep. Good. He didn’t sleep at all last night. I decide not to get into bed just yet. Let him fall into a deeper sleep first. I sit on the floor next to the bed and flip through the photos he took of us today.
I look happy. No one would be able to tell from these pictures that I’m fighting several ghosts and battles in my head. But I made an effort for Imran. He deserves to look back on these early memories and think, Yeah, those first couple of days after the wedding were nice. We had a good time.
And we did, I suppose.
Our first kiss wasn’t horrible, either. From the look on Imran’s face, I think it was a big deal for him. Epic, even. I’m glad I didn’t do anything to ruin the moment for him.
Of course, I didn’t feel a spark. There was no desire to wrap my arms around him and bring him closer. But at least I wasn’t repulsed by the feel of his lips on my skin. I was worried that I’d cringe away. Thus, give myself away. Or worse: Wish that Seb was touching me instead.
Sin. It would have been a sin if that thought crossed my mind. I’m so relieved that Sebastian Lowe was very far from my thoughts during that kiss.
How long can I keep this up? New Bride responsibilities are keeping my mind occupied; when Seb peeks through these distractions, I’m able to push him out of my head. Will he take over my mind once things calm down at home? I don’t know what I’ll do if that’s the case.
Part Three
What Is Heartbreak?
Shell
Heartbreak? Like life, you just get on with it.
Charlotte
Heartbreak is an old friend whose jokes don’t make you laugh anymore, and an enemy whose taunting doesn’t touch you anymore. I’m not afraid of it anymore.
Seb
Heartbreak is all I’ve known when I’ve given my heart away. My heart, they easily accept—and squash it just as easily with their dainty little fingers.
Chapter 73
Charlotte
It’s been a long time since Nan insisted on having a Sunday roast. It smells great; I wish I had more of an appetite. Seen as I wasn’t opening the shop today, she sent me to buy a chicken from the Sainsbury’s on the High Road and some veggies to go with it. Her argument was that she’s helping me with my Halloween bakes for tomorrow, the least I can do is indulge her sudden craving for roast chicken.
Deep down, I know she’s just trying to cheer me up. That’s why she talked me into doing some Halloween baking. I didn’t feel like doing anything.
“I’m so silly,” she says as we sit down at the dining table. “We could have invited Seb.”
Of course, she’s figured out that something happened between me and Seb last night. I went straight to my room after getting back from his mum’s house. Nan also saw that the car that dropped me off wasn’t Seb’s now-familiar vehicle. Couple that with me taking today off work—the day before Halloween, when we usually sell a few extra bits and pieces—she’d have to be really thick to not conclude that I’m having boy problems.
I feel like I’ve made a huge mistake by breaking up with him. My heart is aching to see him again, to hear his voice. Damn it, I didn’t even get to kiss him! I bet he’s a great kisser—
Stop. Distract yourself. Be stronger. You did the right thing. A few more weeks with him, and I’d have been too attached to see the truth. Or ignored it. He only wants me because he thinks no one else will want him.
“Seb and I broke up, Nan,” I say as I stab a slice of chicken with my fork and bring it to my plate.
“Oh.” Nan puts her cutlery down. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Oh, wow, Nan,” I chuckle without humour. “No ‘you’re better off without him’ or ‘he’s not worth it’? He’ll be chuffed to know you’re not lumping him with the others.”
“The others were idiots,” she almost snaps. “Seb seemed like... He genuinely liked you.”
“He did,” I sigh. I felt real affection in his touch, detected true hurt in his eyes when I ended things. “Just for the wrong reasons, that’s all.”
“What does that mean?” She gives me a look loaded with curiosity and disapproval.
“It’s private, Nan.” Seb’s secret is not mine to share. “I’m fine. I’ll get over it.” I shrug for her benefit.
“Of course, you will.” She picks up her knife and fork. “You always do. Soldier, you are.”
“And the right guy will come along, right?” I ask with a roll of my eyes.
Nan starts laughing. “Back in my day, yes,” she says. “Boys these days? They haven’t a clue!” Nan shakes her head, unimpressed. “These days, Charlotte dear, you have to go get the right man. They won’t come to you. They don’t know where they’re going half the time.”
I can’t help but laugh at the truth in her words.
“This Seb, though,” she murmurs thoughtfully. “He seemed to know exactly where he was going...”
“Nan!” I moan half-heartedly. “You hardly said anything nice about him when I was with him. Now you’re making me feel guilty for breaking up with him.”
“Well, I had to play the bad cop, didn’t I? Seen as your father—”
“And I really don’t want to talk about dad right now.” I don’t like using such a harsh tone with her but she brings him up when I least expect it and my temper flares.
“He keeps calling for you,” she says with a plea in her voice. “The kids want to see you—”
“Yeah, right!” I’m not close with my step-siblings and I’m pretty certain they wouldn’t care if I died. “Nan, today really isn’t the day to discuss dad.”
I’m trying not to let my break-up with Seb affect me too much, but talking about dad is the only thing that can make me feel worse than I already do.
“Can we just eat lunch and get back to baking?”
“Fine,” she breathes out. “But you’ll have to face him one day, dear.”
“Not if I can help it.”
Chapter 74
Shell
My eyes are swollen and sore. Stinging. Blinking hurts. Keeping my eyes open hurts. Closing them doesn’t help, either. Imran’s eyes are fixed on the rear view mirror of my brother’s car, watching me. Making sure I’m okay. I know he wishes he was in the backseat with me, holding my hand.
I wish that, too.
He sat in the passenger seat when his Dulabhai drove us to my parents’ house and he’s doing the same as my brother gives us a lift back to my in-laws’. Even though we’re married, we’re expected to keep our distance when others are around. Some couples feel shy about sitting next to each other in public places, so that’s alright. Others find it a little exasperating. I’m feeling like that now.
It’s awfully lonely back here.
I’m still raw from the tearful farewell with my parents. Relieved tears continue to fall, albeit silently, as we near Chadwell Heath. Mum and dad forgave me for the pain I caused them and I owe Imran so much for this. When we were saying goodbye, he asked my parents to forgive him if he’s said or done anything to upset them. Surprised, we just stared at him. People say things like that if they’re going away for a significant period of time.
His unexpected gesture alerted me to the fact that I should ask for forgiveness, too. As I hugged my mum and repeated Imran’s words to her, I broke down into tears. I couldn’t stop crying, especially after both my parents asked me to forgive them if they did wrong by me. I didn’t think I’d ever stop sobbing when they assured me that I was forgiven. They forgave me, I kept thinking as I howled my soul out. Things will go back to normal.
I may have unloaded a lifetime’s supply of tears while I cried in my mum’s arms—the girl that rarely cries, cried for her entire street!—and it wasn’t just for my family. I was a whirlwind of emotions. Seb and Imran were at the forefront of my mind—missing the former and feeling guilty over the latter—but I was also dreading the drama I’ll have to put up with in my married life.
Imran’s blood family seem like good people, but so had Didi at first. What if everyone’s true colours are like hers? I’m not used to people picking on me or having issues with what I do. Will I be able to cope if my in-laws turn on me?
I cried on and on. Even Shayla and Bhabi succumbed to the moment, sniffling loudly. My brother tried to calm us down but failed. Everyone seemed to have forgotten that my in-laws were expecting us home by 3pm. We even had an early lunch to keep to that deadline.
Thank goodness Imran stepped in when he did. He promised I could visit my family whenever I wanted. “We live so close by,” he murmured after peeling me away from my mum and wrapping his arms around me. “I’ll drop you off any time. Just let me know when you want to visit.”
I sagged into his embrace and he rubbed my back as I cried myself out. Yes, the two of us obviously don’t feel shy around each other in public. Not when I’m balling my eyes out, anyway.
Now that I think about it, it’s a good thing for my family to see Imran showing me affection, and see me welcoming it. They’ll be relieved, thinking that I’m happy to have married him, after all. Their assumptions might not be hundred percent accurate—happy is a very strong word—but if it means they’ll worry less about me, I won’t correct them.
Besides, who’s to say that I’ll never be happy with Imran? We’re already so comfortable with each other. We might get our happy ever after sooner rather than later. That’s the plan, anyway.
Chapter 75
Seb
I should have known the shop would be closed. Not because it’s Sunday—Charlotte’s Cakes do business seven days a week—but because Charlotte couldn’t bear to come into work. It hurts to think of her in that state.
Well, I’m not doing so well myself. That doesn’t make up for the pain I caused her, of course. Pain I never intended to inflict on her. Never did it cross my mind that she’d see things that way. She needs to know it wasn’t like that.
I’m about to walk away from the shop to drive to her house when I catch my reflection on the glass panels in the door. I look just as dreadful as I feel. There was a time when I couldn’t bear to look at myself in the mirror. I can’t remember when I got over that aversion.
When I graduated Uni and returned to my old life, a lot of my PTSD symptoms started to fade away. Becoming obsessed with raising my fund also helped distract me. I was incredibly lucky—the symptoms don’t go away for a lot of sufferers. Besides, I don’t think I’ll ever be cured of it. It will be a case of trying to manage the anxiety, deal with the dips and peaks over a lifetime.
Last nigh, talking about the... acid attack... brought back the anxiety and nightmares that plagued me at Uni. The fear of going to sleep... locking the windows and doors... checking and double-checking that no one was in my room... deciding it was best not go to sleep at all...
It’s why I didn’t have flat mates in my second and third years of Uni; I rented studio apartments instead. Just me and my sparsely furnished room, no nooks or crevices where anyone could hide. It suits me fine that my current flat hardly has any furniture. If Shell thought my living room was a tad bare, she would have pitied my bedroom.
Bedroom. Despite what I led Imran and others to believe, I’ve never shared my bed with anyone since Taiba. I didn’t want to, obviously. If I had, the thought of falling asleep with someone next to me... someone who might wake up while I was sleeping... No. Giving someone that kind of power over me is not an option...
My PTSD symptoms may have gradually diminished over the years, but if somebody was to sleepover in my flat, I’d never close my eyes.
Revealing my burns to Shell and Charlotte wasn’t as horrible as I’d expected. The burden—of wearing my secrets on my skin—felt lighter. Especially after Shell showed me that she didn’t care what lurked beneath my suits. She still loved me and wanted to run away with me.
If we did leave London and move in together, I know she would have understood my... forced insomnia. She would have tried to help me sleep. Been patient with me and given me however much time I needed to become comfortable enough to sleep beside her.
I don’t know if I would have been brave enough to bare my soul to Charlotte if it wasn’t for Shell. Thanks to her, I’m no longer anxious about repelling women. The right ones, anyway. I suppose I expected Charlotte to react the same way as Shell did to my scars.
As for the bad dreams... I hope they’re not back for good. I stayed at my mum’s last night; I wasn’t fit to drive back to Bethnal Green. I kept myself awake, once again terrified of closing my eyes. Due to sheer exhaustion, however, I fell asleep when it started to get light. A familiar nightmare jolted me awake soon after and my hands reached for my stomach, expecting to find wet skin and hot acid. I think I screamed but mum didn’t hear it.
After an hour of tossing and turning, I dozed off again, thankfully into a dreamless sleep. Mum woke me up to have lunch with her. She asked how things went with Charlotte and I told her that we sort of split up. I didn’t give her any details but she gathered that the break up wasn’t initiated by me.
“But I’m going to get her back,” I assured her.
She gave me a sad smile. “You really like her, don’t you?”
“I do.” I really do care about Charlotte.
I like how strong she is. I love the sound of her laugh, even if it’s at my expense. I like being around her. I want her in my life. For more reasons than when I first asked her out.
“Well,” mum said, “you better eat up and go get her.”
I better. Sighing, I turn away from Charlotte’s Cakes and head for my car.
“Seb!”
I freeze. My heart drops.
“Seb, hey!” The voice sounds a lot closer now.
Before I know it, I’m twisting on the spot and coming face-to-face with my best friend. And his new wife.
Chapter 76
Shell
We couldn’t convince my brother to come inside for a cuppa. He helped Imran get our stuff out of his boot, climbed back into his car, and drove off. As we turned to head into the house, Imran asked me if I was alright. I said I was even though I wasn’t and he knew it straightaway.
“Your eyes are still puffy,” he murmured. “Will you hate me if I said you still look cute?” He made a sheepish face. I tried to smile. “Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested. “Fresh air might clear your head.” I didn’t argue. He locked our overnight bags and gift bags in his car boot. “Lucky I always have my car keys with me!”
