Page 50 of Because of Me

“Because I haven’t asked her yet.” Half of the truth falls out so easily, but I snap my mouth shut before I slip up. I’d marry Amira in a heartbeat, but I know she isn’t anywhere near ready for that. I know she might not ever be. And that’s okay with me. I’ll gladly take whatever she will give me, and I hope it’s forever. I don’t need a certificate on paper to share my life with her.

Mr Solak’s stance softens, and so does his voice. “Is she happy with you?”

I think back to the past months. We fell into acting like a couple so easily, and maybe I’m foolish to think it’s all because of me, but Amiraishappy. She sings while she bakes, and she comes home with a spring in her step more often than not. Her eyes light up when she sees me in my damn glasses, and she giggles when I snap them into my case before bed. And her smile is always softest before she falls asleep, and brightest first thing in the morning.

“Yeah,” I say, failing to keep my own smile from lighting up my face. “She is.”

He gives a curt nod. It’s not welcoming, but it’s accepting. Of me, maybe, but more likely of Amira’s choice.

“So will you ask her?”

“Ask her what?”

“To marry you.”

I don’t know if she would ever want me to ask her, but I do know I’d be sure of her answer before I did. It would be nice, to say yes and please her father, but I can’t lie.

“When she wants me to, I will.” I mean every syllable of that sentence, and it comes from the deepest section of my heart. The piece that decided it belonged to Amira all those years ago.

“No.” Her voice is like a spark of static electricity, zapping my chest. I jolt a little from her directness, and Mr Solak twists his body towards her.

Neither of us had seen her coming back. I hadn’t thought she would at all and was prepared to filter through the crowd to find her once I got away from her father. But she stands by us, two full wine glasses in her hands. Her cheeks are bright pink and lines track across her brow.

“I—” Despite starting to speak, I have no words. They won’t form in my brain, let alone my throat.No. Like, never?

Amira turns to her father. “This conversation is done. I don’t want to get married to some guy you think is perfect for me, and I don’t want to get married to Noah. I don’t want to be married at all. Ever.”

She drops the wine glasses on the table, turning her back on Mr Solak. “We’re done,” she finishes before he can speak.

I don’t know how long he stands there, because my focus is entirely on Amira and blood is pounding through my ears. But he must leave eventually, because she turns to me and grabs my hands.

“Cupcake, I—”

“Don’t, please. This is what I was so worried about. The external pressure. I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Stepping closer, I squeeze her fingers and hold her hands to my chest. “You didn’t drag me into anything, Cupcake. I want to be here, remember?”

“I remember how this started.Whythis started. If it hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

“I’d still be here.”

Amira closes her eyes, turning her face to the side as one single tear falls down her cheek. “But I don’t think I would be.”

I spend the rest of the night with my hand lingering over the small of Amira’s back, but mentally, I’m stuck back at her words from earlier. Falling into something that felt a lot like a relationship was so easy for me, because I’d wanted it all along. But although I knew this was new territory for her, I didn’t think she was quite as doubtful as she now seems.

Maybe it was just overhearing my conversation with her father that scared her enough to make her question the feelings she clearly has. Or maybe she’s right. Maybe she does only feel this way because of how we were thrown together and forced to play a role.

I don’t know how to make her want this because of me, not just because of the story we tell and how it gets her father off her back a little. I want her to want us, for real.

As the crowd begins to thin, a heavy ache spreads across my forehead. I’d try to blame it on the two glasses of cheap house wine, but it’s more than that. I’ve been stewing for hours now and my eyes are drying from the strain.

“When do you want to leave?”

Amira has dragged me back to the table, and is sitting sideways on her chair to watch the group still dancing in the centre of the room. The groom twirls the bride, and everyone steps back to avoid stepping on her extravagant white dress. It makes me wonder what our wedding might be like, if we ever have the chance to get there. Amira would want something far smaller, and with my lack of close family outside of Cassidy and my mother that would be more than okay by me. It actually would be intimate, instead of just having the illusion of it. And Amira’s dress would be understated but elegant. I imagine her in lace sleeves and a flowy skirt, and the pounding that’s growing in my head moves south to become a solid sting in my chest.

She said she’d never want that, and I’m trying not to take it personally, but it feels a little like my dream has been ripped out from under me. Serves me right for falling so deeply for a woman I barely knew and clinging to that lust for so damn long.

“Ella and I were thinking of heading into town after the party here dies down,” Amira answers. She has to shout over the loud thumping of the bass as the DJ begins to play what can only be described as ‘night club music’. All rhythm, no lyrics, and plenty of adrenaline-boosting beat drops. Leaning towards me, Amira adds, “You can come?”

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