The sun spilled over them as they walked to where his car was idling by the curb of the hotel’s entrance. He tipped the uniformed man standing by the car and opened the passenger door for Souraya. She climbed in, the blue silk of her dress riding up her thighs and watched through the filter of her sunglasses as Ahmed’s eyes followed the hem dragging up her skin. When he got behind the wheel and reversed out of the parking spot, he stretched one arm behind her headrest and twisted his body to look out of the back windshield, ignoring the rearview mirror. Souraya traced the length of his long arm, the sliding bones underneath the lean muscle. The car merged into the traffic outside the hotel and Ahmed turned to look at her. She immediately glanced down, her eyes hidden by her sunglasses.
“It feels like it’s been forever,” he said.
There was a short and slightly awkward pause.
“I know,” she finally said, taking off her sunglasses and folding them into her purse. “I don’t want to talk about Joburg, Ahmed.”
“Of course,” he replied quickly. “We’re here now. You’re here. Never thought I’d see the day.” He threw her a wink and Souraya’s mouth tugged into an involuntary smile.
“How have you been?” she asked.
“Happy to see you.”
She cut a look at him. “Do better than the easy answer, Ahmed.”
His laugh was rough, snagging at the edges. “Darling, let’s leave it at the easy answer.”
Souraya frowned. There was a shadow around him, loud enough to be perceptible, and a tightness in the corner of his eyes that spoke of worry. She’d seen it before, and it made her want to cup his jaw in her palm until he exhaled.
“I’m asking,” she pointed out.
Ahmed switched lanes and a muscle in his jaw jumped. When he glanced back at her, both hesitation and hunger showed in his face.
“Today is not great.” His voice was too controlled.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shook his head almost immediately. “I just want to forget for a little bit. Tell me something, anything.”
It should have been fine. It was a normal thing to say, and maybe someone else would’ve indulged his request, given him the empty chatter he wanted, but Souraya felt herself bristle at his words. She bit her cheek and looked out the window, trying to calm the jump of anger in her chest. When she stayed silent, Ahmed craned his neck, trying to see her expression.
“Sou? You all right?”
“Don’t call me that.” It came out sharp and Souraya dug her nails into her palm. It did nothing for her anger. “Not if you’re going to do this evasive bullshit.”
“What bullshit?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not an escape, Ahmed. You’d have to pay me for that.”
He winced. “Shit. Sorry.”
Souraya nodded in acceptance and they drove in silence for a while.
“You just got in,” Ahmed finally said while making a left turn. “I didn’t want to off-load this shit on you when I haven’t seen you in years.”
“Do you think the years matter?” Souraya countered. “Or that I ask questions I don’t want real answers to?”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Souraya was still irritated, still painfully attracted to him, and that annoyed her even more. “Whatever, Ahmed. Keep your fucking secrets.”
Why did it hurt? Because he’d seen her at her lowest and she wanted a chance to see him vulnerable for once? It was exhausting feeling this raw, running away from the memories.
“Souraya.” His tone was coaxing, but she refused to look at him.
The car swerved slightly as he pulled over. Souraya heard the click of his seat belt as he unbuckled it and then his hand slid behind her neck as he leaned toward her.
“Darling, look at me.”
The anger jumped again, and she lashed a hand out at him. “Don’t call me that!”
Ahmed caught her hand in his and Souraya gasped as she felt the warm heat of his mouth press to her palm. Her head whipped around to stare at him in shock and Ahmed looked back at her with inky eyes.
“I’m sorry, Sou.” He folded her hand to his chest and pulled her closer, burying his face in her neck. Souraya’s skin trembled as he inhaled harshly, his breath stroking her skin. “Fuck, this might sound crazy, but I missed you. Been needing to hold you since you stepped out of that damn elevator.”
“Ahmed.” Her voice was unstable even as she sank her fingers into his hair. He couldn’t have missed her. Never mind if she sat out on her balcony at home sometimes and fought the urge to find him again, wondered what they could be like if they hadn’t crashed together the way they had, wondered what could have been in another time line.
He leaned his forehead against her cheek. “Should I let you go?”
Souraya slid an arm around him. “No,” she whispered. “Don’t let go.” Her heart felt like it was swelling behind her ribs. She could never tell Ola this, how this man was both a stranger and an old friend. “You didn’t really miss me. We don’t know each other, not really.”
“Fuck off.” Ahmed nuzzled against her skin. “I know you shut me away too. Like this thing between us would go away if we tried to forget it. Soon as I saw you, it hit me right in the fucking chest.” He pulled back so he could look at her, their faces a breath away. “Where the hell have you been?”
Souraya gave a half-shrug. “I went home.”
“Why did you come here? You told me you’d never come back here.”
Souraya tilted her head in thought. Had there been a moment when a reason had solidified in her mind? Not when she’d said yes to Ola, not even on the plane over when she’d looked out at the lights of New Lagos as they pulled closer. It had all been an odd blankness, an acceptance of her decision without prying into what had swayed it in the first place.
