Page 39 of Because of Me

We sit, listening to the sound of tables being cleared and patrons laughing through ‘goodbyes’ and ‘see you soons’ until the waiter returns with the wine and takes our food orders. Despite my attempts to convince her otherwise, Ella orders a light salad. I request the biggest bowl of spaghetti bolognese possible. If I don’t know how to feel my feelings, I’ll eat them away. Or at least I’ll try.

“So,” Ella starts after we finish our glasses of wine and I start pouring out the rest of the bottle. “Are we going to debrief or …?”

Dropping the now empty bottle upside down in the ice bucket, I let my head droop forward until my forehead rests against the wooden table.

Her hand hovers over my head, fingertips brushing my flyaway hair only barely, but enough to tickle my scalp. I grab my wine, turning my head and lifting it just enough to down the glass in one long gulp—Noah would hate that—as I try to figure out how much I should let on. The sweet, almost fruity taste lingers on my tongue.

It feels awkward, opening up to my cousin. Maybe because she is part of the big extended family I am trying to deceive. Or maybe just because I never have before. Being family doesn’t necessarily make two people close, and considering she lived in another state until very recently, Ella and I aren’t exactly the ‘tell each other everything’ kind of cousins. Now we are here, eating an early dinner because I needed to get out and away from Noah so I could think, I’m not even sure why I thought she was the right person to talk to.

I need Cassidy. We’ll have another shift together soon and I’m sure if I don’t open up of my own accord she’ll find a way to weasel every little detail out of me. But she isn’t here now, and I need someone to vent to before I have to share a bed with Noah. I pick at my fingernails as I summon the energy.

“First, if I’m not telling your family you never came home last night, you’re not telling a single soul any of this.”

Ella nods from across the table, raising a single brow as she takes a sip from her drink. Her fingers are loose on the stem of the glass and it teeters as she puts it down.

“Can I guess?”

The waiter returns with our meals, stepping up to the table before Ella has a chance to have what will no doubt be a wild guess. Jumping to conclusions is a fun sport to her.

I twirl my fork in the spaghetti, scooping up the biggest mouthful I can manage. Still the best pasta I’ve ever tasted. Although Noah wasn’t lying that first night when he made carbonara. He’s made it again a few times since and it’s easily second best. But the rich tomato sauce on this spaghetti tastes like it came straight from Italy. It’s a decadent blend of herbs that practically melts on my tongue.

I moan at the taste, blushing a little when the sound brings back memories of my last moans.

Ella stabs at her leafy salad, gathering a mix of lettuce and cucumber on her fork. She holds it close to her mouth. “You and Noah aren’t actually a couple,” she states before wrapping her lips around her food.

My pulse begins to thump in my temple, and I want to blame the wine but I know it’s because I’ve been caught. Opening and closing my mouth like a fish, I fight to find words to hold on to the lie.

“Oh stop.” Ella waves her fork at me once she has finished chewing. “You’ve always been a shitty liar. Remember that time you tried to convince me I was adopted.”

I don’t, but it sounds like the kind of thing my younger self would have said just to stir up drama.

“It was right before my family moved to Adelaide. You said everyone found out I wasn’t really part of the family, and my mum and dad were running away from the shame. I almost believed you, too. But your cheeks were turning this vivid shade of pink, and you kept looking at my ears instead of my eyes.”

I never realised my tells were so obvious, even from such a young age. Or maybe I just thought I was better at hiding them by now. I don’t look at ears anymore, temples are closer to the eyes. Although maybe not close enough.

“You’ve been the same since the wedding. I thought you were trying a new shade of blush, but it was there even after you’d washed your face at night and it’s always brightest in the mornings after you emerge from yours and Noah’s room.”

She’s got me there. Something about waking up in Noah’s arms, knowing we’d positioned ourselves in that way subconsciously, never fails to bring an unexplained heat to my cheeks.

The spaghetti in my bowl is suddenly less appealing. The few mouthfuls I’ve eaten begin to churn in my stomach. I need my relationship with Noah to continue. The fake part of it at least. If I can’t even convince Ella, how am I supposed to keep up the charade until Sadik’s wedding?

“Why do you think I stayed out last night?” Ella questions. She cocks her eyebrow again, eating another mouthful of food.

“I assumed you wanted to get laid?”

She squints her eyes, subtly shaking her head. “That part was just an added benefit. I wanted to see if my hunch was correct. And it was.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, but Amira, honey, I do. You were both … different … when I came home. More relaxed but also weirdly strung. Something happened. And I don’t know if it was good for this so-called relationship of yours or bad, but there was something.” She drops her fork into her bowl and reaches across the table to pet my elbow. “You proved it by dragging me to dinner in the afternoon.”

Fuck. She’s right. Everything about me and Noah has changed now and I have no clue how to handle it.

“I think I fucked up,” I admit with a heavy sigh. I push the bowl of spaghetti to the centre of the table, no longer hungry.

“What happened?”

“Honestly? I got horny. And Noah did too, which was all well and good—no, actually, it was fucking incredible—but I think, I’m worried. Fuck. Noah caught feelings and I’m worried I’m catching them too.”

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