Page 32 of Love Letters from a Libra
“Including you?” Amir raised an eyebrow.
I thought about how Zanaa had looked at me this morning, how she called me Moon Man with the smile that suggested she’d been studying me when I wasn’t looking. “Yeah, including me.”
“That’s what scares you, isn’t it? Not that she needs saving, but that she sees the part of you that you hide from everyone else.” Amir’s voice was gentle but knowing.
Sometimes my sister’s perception was so acute. It was unsettling. We shared the same ability to observe expressions and behavior patterns, a skill we developed in childhood out of necessity. We watched our mother’s mood shift like a weather system. Learning how to predict storms before they hit, I turned that skill outward, becoming the protector. Meanwhile, Amir turned it inward, becoming the analyzer.
“You have a way of disappearing when things get real. Don’t do that to her if she’s the real thing.” She reached across the table to tap my forearm.
“I’m not disappearing. I’m sitting right here, telling you about her,” I countered.
“Sure, physically, but I watched you do it with Candace when she started needing too much. With Imani, when she wanted to meet Aunt Nubi, you got this look like you were already planning your exit strategy while nodding along to whatever she was saying.”
I opened my mouth to protest but then closed it. Wasn’t I already doing that with Zanaa? The way I tensed this morning and made an excuse to leave, though part of me wanted to stay in that bed all day.
“It’s complicated,” I admitted.
Amir stole a piece of bacon from my plate, a habit from childhood. “It doesn’t have to be. Maybe you could stay present and see what happens.”
Our conversation shifted to safer topics: her school projects, my latest security contract, and Aunt Nubi’s visit to her at school while she was in town for her friend’s wedding. The familiar banter of siblings reasserted itself in her brilliant mind, jumping three steps ahead in conversation, and me trying to keep up while maintaining the appearance of older brother wisdom. The teasing and the inside jokes we’d developed over the years, being each other’s constant while everything else had changed.
Underneath it all, Amir’s observation lingered.“You have a way of disappearing when things get real.”The accuracy of it all made my skin crawl. Even now, part of me was already calculating how to maintain distance from Zanaa without pushing her away completely. The perfect balance of intimacy and independence that kept me safe from the risk of full emotional investment.
As we finished our meal, Amir looked at me with her penetrating gaze again. “I like how you talk about her. She has a different energy from the others. Allowing you to be less of a rescuer and more of a partner. Just don’t sabotage this one, okay? I want to actually meet her someday.”
I nodded. It wasn’t quite a promise, but not a dismissal either. “I’ll do my best.”
“Your actual best,” Amir clarified.
I laughed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re too smart for your own good?”
“Only you, every day since I was five.”
Granted, our conversation closed naturally as it opened, but the warning remained hanging between us, and I couldn’t quite look away from it.
“Listen, Bro, I gotta go. I’m supposed to meet up with my friends for a wine tasting,” Amir stated, looking at her watch.
“Go ahead. I’ll stay back and take care of the bill.”
Amir moved around the table to hug me. “Love you.”
“Love you too. Be safe. Let me know when you get back later.”
“I will.”
After paying the bill, I exited through the café door with my head down, putting my card in my wallet, when my shoulder connected with someone entering.
“Sorry, I wasn’t—” The apology died in my throat as recognition hit. Candace. Her hair was different, shorter with honey color highlights, but her eyes were exactly as I remembered. For a split second, time stood still, and two years vanished. I was right back into the vortex of our relationship, the mixture of intensity and exhaustion that had defined our final months together.
“Jules? Wow, hi.” Her voice hadn’t changed either, that slight raspiness that used to send currents down my spine.
“Candace. It’s been a while.” I managed to keep my voice steady, though I felt my shoulders tightening and my spine straightening to the perfect posture she used to tease me about.
She looked good, not just physically, though the new hairstyle suited her, and her skin had a glow that was often absent during our time together. But there was something else in her eyes that was new. She seemed centered and whole. The realization should’ve made me happy for her, but instead, it sent a complicated surge of emotions through my chest.
“It’s been almost two years. Jasmine, this is Jules. Jules, Jasmine,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the woman behind her, a friend I didn’t recognize. We exchanged polite greetings.
“How have you been? Still saving the world one firewall at a time?” Candace asked, her head tilting in that way she did when she was genuinely curious.
