“Oh. Ilias. How did you get my number?” Suspicious. Guarded. Like mother, like son.
“Ghita gave it to me. I hope that’s okay.”
“No, yeah. It’s fine. I—I actually wanted to talk to you before, but my mother… she’s not exactly your biggest fan.”
No shit.
“Yeah. I figured,” Ilias said quietly. “I’m sorry I never reached out. Or tried harder when I was around Imsouane. I’ve been a shitty stepbrother. You were as much a victim of everything as Amira and I were.”
There was a pause.
“Yeah,” Emir finally said. “After Dad died, it was hard for us too.”
“I’m sorry,” Ilias said, and meant it.
“It’s okay.”
“How’s Casablanca?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“Boring,” Emir groaned. “My grandparents won’t let me surf, and that’s literally the only thing I want to do.”
Believe me, I know.
“Would you want to come back to Imsouane someday?” Ilias asked.
“Obviously. Why?”
“I don’t know if Ghita told you, but she wants to turn Azul into a surf retreat. She could use the help.” He hated himself a little for going there, but the truth was, he wanted Emir involved. Wanted him here. Yasmine would murder him when she found out.
“Oh.”
“You don’t have to,” Ilias rushed. “It’s just an option. One that won’t exist if your mom sells the restaurant to the Americans. That would change Imsouane forever.”
“What?” Emir snapped. “What do you mean, sell?”
Joder.
“You didn’t know?”
“No. Is that why you called?”
“I called because my girlfriend thinks you might be the only person who can stop your mother from making a mistake, selling the restaurant to pay for your education when there are other ways—”
“There are other ways,” Emir cut in. “I got a scholarship. I was going to tell her when I got home. Surprise her.”
Ilias laughed, tension draining from his chest. “Well. You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”
“I fucking am,” Emir said proudly. Then, suspicious again. “Would you have called if your girlfriend hadn’t pushed you?”
Too smart. Unfortunately.
“Probably not,” Ilias admitted. “I was scared you’d hate me. Or wouldn’t want to talk to me after that night.”
“I would’ve punched him too,” Emir said flatly. “He lied to all of us.”
Ilias closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. “It wasn’t a good example.”
“It taught me to protect the people I love,” Emir replied. “And words hurt more than fists. He hurt all of us.”
