He stared for a moment, searching my eyes. When he realised I meant it, his mouth fell open. “Baby… seriously?”
Baby…
My heart thumped hard. He sometimes called me that, but what did it mean?
I stabbed another bite, chewing. “I like spicy,” I shrugged, feigning indifference.
Zioh laughed, fond and calm. “You’re still a baby, Sophie,” he teased, stroking my cheek.Come on, I wasfourteen.He continued, “Babies aren’t allowed spicy food, baby.” His mischievous laugh followed.
Babies? Ah. So that was the meaning.
Still, I pouted. “I’m fourteen—”
Both of us turned toward the entryway. A racket split into the room. Zeraiah and Tsabinu were back, and Tsabinu’s arms sagged beneath bags of snacks, shaking his head at me in weary defeat.
But Zeraiah bounded in, brimming with energy and lugging a giant board. He dumped all my books and papers from the table and replaced them with a brand-new Monopoly set. Zioh and I both frowned. “Zer—”
“Okay, nerds. Let’s have a real life here, yes?”
Zioh retrieved a fallen book, snarling. “Zeraiah.”
His brother ignored him, staring at Tsabinu, who dropped the snack bags, then at me. Zeraiah spread the board wide. “The winner buys ice cream at the park for a week. And…” He smirked, eyes narrowing at me. “If I win, the playlist in the car and at home is mine. For two full weeks.”
“Hey—”
My protest died as he grabbed the remote and switched my One Direction to blaring “Old Time Rock & Roll.” His grin widened.
“Let the games begin!”
Oh, this was war. Endless war.
« -- * -- »
Present
We were at the same restaurant where we’d first met again, and Zioh had brought me here again for lunch. Since we sat for an hour, I hadn’t said a word. I didn’t know what to say or how to act. My legs couldn’t stop moving, and I wrung my fingers.
Zioh had barely spoken either, only stealing glances. His hand kept loosening his tie, and he even adjusted hiscollar. Warmth spread through the air, but all that reached me was the cold, seeping deep into my skin, making my breath hitch.
Sitting in silence, I stroked my chest with shaking fingers, trying to soothe the ache. I was unable to discern if the burning originated from a raw wound or my heart battering against my ribs.
I avoided his eyes, and he let me. No force, no demand. Until my phone buzzed.
It was Andi.
Andi:Don’t forget what I told you this morning! Remember our plan, Bib! Don’t you dare fall again. Put your damn mind and self together!
Andi had dragged me to a cafe in the office lobby this morning. He apologized and was calmer, back to his usual self, but then he slammed two books onto the table, grinning fiercely.
With hesitation, I read one title:10 Ways to Forget Your Abusive Ex.
I’d stared, felt dumbfounded, and he’d stared back, so deadly serious.
“Andi—”
“Read it. Absorb it. Do it.” His voice was sharp.
He wasn’t joking.
