CHAPTER 17
Arwyn
I was reading in my armchair in the front room when Zaki arrived home from Denver. I couldn’t sleep, and reading wasn’t really happening, either.
The girls and I had watched the first period of the game snuggled up in their bed with the dogs. When they’d fallen asleep during the intermission commentary, I switched off their television and came downstairs so I could view the rest of the game. The announcers kept hinting about a special revelation after the final horn, and I was curious.
After the gender reveals, the network had shown a compilation of other baby Edge reveals over the years, including Zaki’s. The elation on his clean-shaven face when the second puck was brought out was that of a kid at Christmas who’d received the gift he’d been wanting more than anything else.
I wondered if they showed that in the arena, and I wondered if Zaki saw it. I wondered, even if he didn’t see it, if he thought back to it. I couldn’t imagine the heartache of being so happy, only to have it all end a few short years later.
It wasn’t my business, and I wasn’t sure why exactly I was waiting up. To offer him support, of course, if he wanted to talk.
Ha. He always wanted to talk.
But family stuff he usually kept for when the girls weren’t around, so I wanted to give him an outlet if he sought one.
In the dim light of the entryway, he removed his overcoat and hat. As he turned to the stairs, he noticed me. I set my book on the end table and stood up.
“Hey,” I said, trying not to be distracted by him in a suit. “Nice goal in the third. And the empty net one, too. One shy of a hat trick.”
Zaki smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks. Did the girls stay up for the whole game?”
I shook my head. “They fell asleep a couple minutes into the first intermission report. I came downstairs to watch the rest.”
He nodded, and the silence between us became loud. I scrambled for words, but none came.
Some support. I couldn’t even speak.
“Well, um. Good night,” I said. “I’m going to be up for a bit, um, reading. But … if you aren’t tired or want to talk…” I lifted my hands and shrugged. “I’m a good listener.”
I sank back into my chair but kept my eyes on him. He folded his hands behind his head and blew out a breath, then nodded. “Okay if I change first?”
“Of course. Want to go into the kitchen? We have sugar-free cheesecake.”
This time his smile reached his eyes. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
I wasn’t sure if he got my Golden Girls reference, but that was okay. I hurried into the kitchen to boil water for tea and pull out the box of pre-sliced cheesecake I’d ordered from Tasha last week.
Hmm. Only one slice left. I’d forgotten that the girls and I had indulged earlier in the week. I was holding a knife and debating on how to cut it when I felt Zaki behind me.
“Last piece? I don’t need any if you want it,” he offered.
I shook my head. “I think we both need to eat it for this to work.”
“That’s what I’ve heard,” he replied.
“Oh yeah? From who?” I was testing him.
“Just some sweet old ladies. Met one of them in person, you know.”
I set the knife down. “You didn’t!”
“I did. Out in LA after a game. Betty White was a crazy flirt.”
Was he serious?
“I’m serious. There’s a selfie on my Instagram.”
“Wow,” I breathed. It had never occurred to me that he must have met scores of celebrities over the years.
The teakettle whistled, and I left the uncut slice to attend to it and fixed myself a cup. Zaki sat at the round table and gestured for me to sit next to him instead of across, where I usually sat. He’d set the plate between our seats with two forks, one on either side. Apparently, we weren’t slicing it in two.
“You take the first bite,” I suggested. “Tell me what’s weighing on you.”
Zaki picked up the fork and stabbed off the point of the cheesecake slice. “I’m happy for my friends.” He slid the fork into his mouth and pulled it out clean. I watched him chew, slowly, quietly, no slurping or weird noises.
My misophonia appreciated that.
“But?” I prompted.
“But I can’t fight off the feeling of massive loss. My family is broken up. I don’t see a path to having more kids. When we get back to Montreal, we’ll share custody again, and I’ll miss even more than I do now.” He dropped his head. “And then I feel worse for thinking those things. I have two beautiful girls. So many people can’t have children or never get the opportunity to. I can’t be ungrateful or upset. I have blessings that people would die for.”
I used the side of my fork to cut into the back corner and scooped the cheesecake onto the tines. “Your feelings are valid, Zaki. Your life hasn’t gone as you planned. You fell in love as a teenager, set high expectations for your career and personal life, and achieved most of them. Then you got blindsided. You never saw that coming. You couldn’t ease into it or prepare for it. It was there one day and gone the next.” I stuffed the fork into my mouth and fought back tears, thinking about the glass-encased flag on the mantel over the fireplace.
“Like your dad,” Zaki said quietly. He set his fork down and reached for my hand. I let him take it and watched as he rubbed his thumb lightly over my knuckles. “I’m guessing the sting of it never goes away.”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t. But listen—we both still have so much to be grateful for. We both get to do what we love. We have great friends—distance won’t change that, only the frequency of seeing them. And your girls—they’re the best gift. I saw your face on the screen when they played that montage. The size of your grin equated to how amazing of a dad you wanted to be, and are.”
He gave my hand a light squeeze, still holding it, while his other hand cut into the cake for another bite.
I didn’t say anything as he thought over my words. I didn’t know how to convince him just how great of a father he was. When he spoke, there was pain in his voice and a touch of anger.
“What you didn’t see was the terror on Viki’s face.” He let go of my hand and his fork and rubbed his palms over his eyes. “She was so scared, and I didn’t notice. And when she told me, I didn’t validate any of it. I didn’t listen to her ‘what ifs,’ and I refused to consider anything that might go wrong. Why would it?”
I wasn’t sure if that question was rhetorical, so I took another bite of cheesecake.
Two bites left.
I set my fork down. I didn’t want to finish the cake before the talk was done.
Zaki’s hands covered his eyes, and his elbows rested on the table. Should I reach out and comfort him like he’d comforted me? I wanted to. From what I could tell in the short time I’d known him, he welcomed and craved physical touch.
I went for it.
Pushing my chair out from the table, I stood up and moved into place behind his chair. Then I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and rested my head against the side of his.
Zaki’s head shifted as it straightened up and his hands closed around mine.
I found words. “You couldn’t have known,” I whispered. “You were young and on top of the world with your whole future ahead of you. You can’t carry that guilt, Zaki. It’s eating you and preventing you from moving forward.”
I closed my eyes and absorbed the warmth of his cheek against mine. We stayed like that for some time, and then he spoke.
“How is it that someone you barely know can know you so well?” In a swift move, one of my arms was over his head and we were twisting—no, he was twisting—and then we were standing, inches apart, and my hands were inside his, resting on his chest. “I feel like you know my heart, Wynnie. I want to know yours.”
“I—” How did I answer that?
Honestly, of course. I couldn’t lie.
“I think you already know it.” I dared to look up and catch his gaze.
“I think I do, but—it’s complicated.” Those blue eyes shone with unshed tears. How long would he continue to avoid things that he knew would make him happy?
“Everything important always is,” I reminded him. “That’s what faith is for. If I didn’t believe everything would work out when Dad died, it wouldn’t have. Sure, I struggled. I still am struggling. But I find a way to do what makes me happy.” I squeezed his hands. “There is always a path to happiness, Zaki. You just have to dare to veer off the path you paved to take it.”
He crushed me into a bear hug and held me for a long time, his head resting on mine, our hearts beating in sync through my kimono and his hoodie.
Like with the children, I wasn’t going to be the one to break the hug.
When he did step back, his face was streaked with tears, but he was smiling. I reached up to wipe them, but he caught my hand and pressed my palm into his cheek. The soft scruff of his beard tickled my skin, and I smiled back.
“You, Wynna-bun, are a treasure, you know that?”
“You give me too much credit.” I’d only been speaking from my heart. That came from a higher power. I never had decent words off the cuff.
“Go get some sleep,” he said. “The girls will be up in a few hours. Actually, you sleep in. I’ll get them up, ready, and take them to school.”
“Well, okay…” My gaze flicked to the almost-gone cheesecake. “But first … cheesecake?”
He lowered my hand and snagged my fork, cut a generous bite of it, and held it up. “Airplane?”
“Really?” My eyes rolled heavenward. I loved his playfulness, but … airplane?
“It’s fun. See?” He made a whirring sound and traced a flight path through the air between us. “C’mon, Wynna-bun. Take a chance. Have some fun.”
“Take a chance, huh?” I tilted my chin up. “You’d better not miss the runway.”
His eyes gleamed with mischief, and he made no promises. “Airplane, coming in for a landing!” His whirring was louder this time, and I laughed as his “plane” made a smooth landing in my open mouth. “I never miss important shots.”
I tried not to choke from laughing as he made a show of scooping up the last bit and airplaning it to his own mouth.
“I’ll clean up, Wynna-bun.” He tugged me in for another hug. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” I said into his hoodie. “Good night, Zaki.”
As I crossed the kitchen to my room, I snuck a glance over my shoulder. The tender look on his face as he watched me set my insides on fire.
Had we just stepped into new territory?
It sure felt like it.