"Dastan's coming back to the city," he repeats.
Shit.
Shit.
What am I supposed to do with that atomic bomb? My mind is screaming. I'm sure my face is giving away these thoughts because Haider looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin. His dark eyes are overflowing with concern, Dastan's eyes. I can't look at him. Turning my gaze to the large window next to me, I take a deep breath and wait a few seconds before exhaling, I do it again. Again. Again. Again.
Haider watches me the whole time.
"Look, sweetheart, you don't ever even have to see him if you don't want to," he says sincerely and I can't help it, I look at him. Regret, it's instantaneous and unforgiving. They look so much alike, it's actually painful. I hate myself for being this affected by it but Dastan Haider has always been my weakness.
"If I don't have to see him why bother telling me?" it's a stupid question. I know this but I need the distraction. Haider seems to realize that too because he indulges my idiocy.
"I'm just giving you a heads up," he continues "you know, in case you guys run into each other." He looks sheepish. If I didn't know any better I might think he looked a little guilty.
"There are millions of people in this city," I say suspiciously, "Why would we run into each other?"
Nope, I definitely wasn't imagining it, that's absolutely guilt on his face. "I may have mentioned you to him, in passing." It's a blatant lie. If there's one thing Malik Haider can't do, it's lie.
"What did you do?" he doesn't answer immediately and that only makes me panic more. I can't handle this. Not right now. Hopefully, not ever. Dastan being in the city is bad enough, Dastan wanting to see me while he's in the city would be a catastrophe of epic proportions. "What did you do?" I repeat, this time it sounds much harsher. More livid
"I think you know," he responds with a note of resignation.
"I'm going to kill you," I say it with complete seriousness, "I'm going to kill you, and I'm going to enjoy every second of it." He looks like he's torn between laughing at me for overreacting and being afraid that I might actually come through on that threat.
He laughs. It's the wrong thing to do, before I've even thought about it, I chuck a french fry at his head. The one I'd dipped in my milkshake. The chocolate splatters across his cheek and he stops abruptly, startled.
Now it's my turn to laugh. The sound is a little hysterical even to my ears and I cover my mouth with my hand to muffle it. What am I going to do. If Dastan wants to see me there's no way I can get around that without making it obvious that I'm still affected by what happened between us.
Not that anything really happened. But the awkwardness of an almost something but not quite feels worse somehow. Dastan and I basically grew up together. He, Emma and I were all friends for the majority of our lives. I'd always been a little in love with him. I couldn't help it, I don't think any living woman could've helped it. He's the type of beautiful you don't see very often. Thick, dark hair and eyes so deep you'd drown a thousand times over every time you looked at them. Golden tanned skin and dimples. Those goddamn dimples. It was inevitable that we'd eventually test the limits of our friendship. It wasn't until college that we'd started to explore our relationship. We kept it quiet for a few months but then the accident happened. Everything went belly up after that.
He wanted to be there for me, wanted to help me through it, to hold me when I woke up screaming for my mom. And I- I couldn't. I couldn't stomach the thought of letting another person in only to lose them too. I wouldn't have survived it a second time. So, I did the only thing I could think of, I broke his heart. I told him I could never love him, that I didn't think of him that way and it was all a mistake. He left for London four days later.
I haven't seen him since. And I wasn't planning on seeing him again. Not until his father unceremoniously dropped him into my lap like a bad Christmas present. "Are you alright?" Haider asks, his voice stained with what I assume is worry. It's then that I realize I haven't actually stopped laughing, it's just devolved into a low hitching sob. I'm crying. I'm crying in a Café over a man I rejected. I'm a mess.
"I'll be fine," I say, brushing away his concern with a lazy wave of my hand. I take a few breaths to get my emotions in check and when I look back at Haider I think I might lose it again. He's looking at me in a way that tells me this isn't the worst of the news he has to deliver. "You know there's only so many pitiful glances I can take before I reach across this table and slap you with your hamburger." I'm only half-joking right now. A part of me really wants to do it. If only for the satisfaction of not being the most ridiculous looking person at this table.
"He's staying 'til after Zia's birthday."
"Shit," the word just slips out and I've got barely enough sense to stop myself from shouting it. Zia is Dastan's sister. She's also the sweetest, most precious little girl in the world and she invited me to her fifth birthday party three weeks ago. I promised her I'd go. This was before I found out her brother would be there. But I can't back out either way. I wouldn't want to disappoint Zia and Haider would have my head if I upset his little girl.
There's nothing I can do to fix this. I know there isn't. I'm going to have to see him again, I'm going to have to look at him and know that I made the biggest mistake of my life letting him go. I'm going to have to face the consequences of a decision I made when I was half,-crazy and entirely too broken. I don't think I'm ready.
"Okay, what am I missing here?" Haider asks, he's rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, and I imagine he'd rather be talking about literally anything else right now. I give him a quizzical look. "Uh, I'm not too sure what happened between you two, " he continues as his face grows steadily redder. "But from what he's told me you ended things with him," I want to die. I want to die right now.
"I did"
"So, why does it matter if you see him again?" I don't know how to respond to that. How do I tell Haider that I'm still in love with his son. That even though I walked away, I'm still in love with him and seeing him again feels like the emotional equivalent of a lobotomy.
Oh, please merciful universe strike me dead in my seat. I'll do anything to not have this conversation right now. Instead, I say; "It's complicated."
"Complicated?"
"Yes." I say with a dismissive nod.
"Complicated how?" he's starting to look more and more confused.
I roll my eyes, "Complicated like I don't want to talk about it with his dad," I'm evading, he knows it. He raises his eyebrows at me, and purses his lips in displeasure. "What's with the inquisition, detective Haider?" I huff, annoyed.
"That's Captain Haider to you," he responds without missing a beat.
"More like Captain pain-in-my-ass," I mumble under my breath.
"I heard that," he takes on an offended tone, "And I'll have you know, only my wife's allowed to call me that!" I can't help it, I laugh. The tension between us eases instantly and I'm so grateful for it. He grins in response and his dimples, so much like his sons, make an appearance. They make him look younger, boyish.
"We good?" his voice is hopeful, his onyx eyes so sincere that I can't help the softening that occurs in my chest.
"We're good," I say on a sigh, "but you're still on my list, captain." He gives me a mock salute and a wink before getting to his feet and tossing a few bills onto the table.
"I'll see you this weekend," he says by way of goodbye. Then he stoops down and drops a kiss on my head, "Love you, sweetie."
"Love you," I say a second too late, he's already on his way toward to door.
I have no idea what to do about this situation but what I do know is that I'm in such deep, unrelenting shit.