“Defineokay.” Hena gave him a weary smile. “I’m relieved she’s hanging in there, but she’s also currently planning her own hospital jailbreak.”
“I’m not sure whether to be impressed or horrified.”
“I’m a little bit of both, to be honest.”
“Between your mother and that detective barging in…it’s a lot.”
“I’m grateful Lulu’s got some great bridesmaids to help. And you, Haris. I can’t thank you enough for your help with the detective.”
“I’m heading to the police station right now,” he told heras they walked out to the parking lot. “I want to see what Milcheck has, and if it’s as I suspect—nothing—I plan to file a complaint. It’s fucked up to intrude on your family wedding like this.”
“I’d love to know who called it in,” Hena said.
“If I can get any information, I will, but tips are normally anonymous.”
A car zoomed by in the distance. She heard the sound of distant honks.
“I don’t even get the implication he was trying to make about us.” Her voice faltered. “They think we colluded to hurt him? What would our motive be?”
At this, Haris winced.
“Uh-oh. What have you heard?”
“You don’t want to know. Trust me.”
“Haris…”
“It seems like someone started a rumor.” He exhaled. His ears turned a subtle shade of pink. “About us. About a romantic past.”
A romantic past.A strange weight settled over her. “Are they saying I cheated on Nasir? That you and I…?”
“Not exactly.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re referring to Auntie Hanifa’s potluck. Not sure if you remember…”
“The kiss when we were teenagers?” Now it was her turn to feel heat rising to her face.
He gave her a sheepish half shrug.
“Someone reported that to the police?” Then, in a smaller voice—“Someone saw us?”
“Big Auntie is always watching, right?”
Their kiss was a lifetime ago. During one of the lowest moments of her life. Mere weeks after her father’s death, her mother had dragged her and Lulu to a dinner party, insistingenough was enough—it was time to move on. But Hena couldn’t bear to be around the easy banter and chatter while her emotions were churned up and spinning. Seeking a reprieve, she’d wandered outside after dinner and sat on a bench overlooking the retention pond. Haris had found her there. Asked if she was okay—the only person who had. And when she cried, he’d sat beside her, silent, his arm around her shoulders. He hadn’t said much. Hadn’t tried to fix anything. He just listened. She couldn’t even remember how the kiss had happened, exactly, except it had been sweet. By the following year, she was with Nasir. They never spoke of it again.
But someone had spied on them all those years ago. Someone had stored up the memory, and they decided now was the time to share it?
“That’s sick,” she muttered.
“It’s ridiculous,” Haris agreed. “Milcheck knows it. He’s just fishing. But we do need to discuss some things. Later, when you have the headspace. I know you’re already dealing with enough.”
“No, go ahead,” she said.
He hesitated. “To be clear, if you’re not comfortable discussing it, I completely understand. Just know whatever you do tell me stays between us. Attorney-client privilege.”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done,” she told him. “Ask me anything.”
“They can’t access your financial records without a court order, so no need to worry for now,” he said. “But if they do gain access, and the transactions indicate the money withdrawn was yours, I want to warn you it’ll get messy fast. So if any money was exchanged, it would be better to tell me sooner rather than later, so we can get ahead of it and plan accordingly.”
Her eyes slid to the pavement. She had told Haris he could ask her anything. She couldn’t talk about this, though. She couldn’t.
