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I try insisting, “Barrett, I…”
“No, Mia. What just happened was not okay. I need some time to digest. I’ll see you when we’re back home in a week. We’ll talk then.”
My watery eyes grow wide and I ask in a broken voice, “we’ll… talk?”
He nods, gaze inscrutable. “Give me a week, baby.”
I let out an involuntary sob and Barrett flinches, before rubbing at his own redden eyes. Then, he walks away…
At Last
MIA
I run the tips of my fingers over the shiny ring on my finger. An eighteen carats gold band with a huge, glinting diamond. The engagement ring Barrett and I chose together at a time when it seemed nothing could shake us. The image of our blissful, clueless happiness flashes behind my eyes, and I tilt my head up, pushing back the tears… again.
I’ve been open with my family and Halima about what played out between Reda, Barrett and I. As I expected, no one blamed me. They could tell how much I was already beating myself, probably also felt for me, and understood I found myself in an impossible position I wasn’t equipped to deal with.
Barrett, I haven’t heard from. In a week. The man who said he’d been serious about me for a lifetime. The very same one who asked for my parents’ blessing within weeks of us being reunited. The guy who couldn’t wait a couple of months to move in with me. Also, the same one who’s ignored all my messages, and hasn’t taken a single one of my calls in seven days…
***
“Honey,” my father greets me, wrapping me in his arms.
He squeezes me a bit stronger than usual, as if he didn’t see me just a month ago, or as if to put back together the pieces of my shattered heart… I hold him just as tight, inhaling his familiar scent. The most comforting scent in the world. I cling on to my dad for much longer than I’ve done in more than a decade, then let go with a sniffling laugh.
“I’m sorry, daddy. I’ve been a mess lately.”
“It’s okay, my sweet girl. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for Barrett either.”
I nod non-committally. I have not had very kind thoughts about Barrett in recent days.
“Have you heard anything?” I enquire, trying not to express too much anguish through my tone.
He shakes his head in a slow, miserable motion. It’s impressive how witnessing their child’s pain affects a parent. My strong, always pragmatic dad seems at a loss.
“We respected your request to not mention anything to Barrett’s family. All we’ve communicated about is preparations for tomorrow, honey. They don’t even seem to be aware there might be an issue.”
You mean they don’t seem to be aware there might not be an engagement party?I think to myself.
Our couple of hours’ drive home from the San Francisco Airport is devoid of the usual incessant back-and-forth discussion and teasing. My father focuses on the road, while I let my eyes take in the mountains and valleys we pass. I miss home. The wide open spaces, nature, the quiet life of a small town. London is amazing, but now that I might go back to my lonely apartment, and risk running into Barrett around town, it’s lost some of its charm…
As if reading my thoughts, my dad pats my knee, saying, “You’ll see, all will be well.”
I take in a deep inhale and nod. It will be, eventually. I just don’t know how much heartache I’ll have to go through before my life becomes peaceful again.
***
Laying in my bed, eyes glued to the ceiling, I mentally trace the glow-in-the-dark constellations my dad glued for us when we were little girls. Over the years, some of the stars have fallen, just like in real life. Extinguished, gone. Beautiful miracles, forever lost to the world. Just like my union to Barrett might be.
Get it together, Mia!He’s not the only man on earth. There will be others. Plus, who says I have to marry forlove?God, I soundpathetic to my own ears.
Lost in my thoughts, at first I don’t notice the tapping sound on my window, till it becomes more frequent. Frowning, I get off the bed and advance to the panel, peeking outside for any sign of what could be making the noise. My parents live in a gated community, so I feel very safe and don’t even consider the possibility of an intruder. Maybe a raccoon?…
I almost trip over my feet when I see a tall figure, dressed in flannel pajamas and a gray cotton t-shirt, standing on our lawn. Barrett! He must have been throwing pebbles at my window. We stand there for a moment, Barrett staring up into my window, me watching him with a strange mixture of apprehension, hope, and anger. His unreadable expression doesn’t give away anything, and my insides churn with both anxiety, the relief of finally getting to see him, and the strong desire to wring hisfuckingneck.
I slip into my thick fleece robe and furry slippers, and hurry outside as quietly as I can.
***
