Habib turns to us and blows out a breath. ‘I think you might be right,’ he admits. ‘I think I just needed to hear that it was OK to have a wobble.’
‘Always. We wouldn’t be human if we didn’t have moments where we were unsure.’ Sadia leans back in her seat. ‘Now, would you like to continue with Monika or do you think a different match may be useful here?’
Habib smiles cautiously as he discusses with Sadia what he’d like going forward. I take notes here and there but mostly I can’t stop thinking about how differently that conversation could have gone. How Habib could have left the agency if it hadn’t been for Sadia’s sage guidance. I listen to her tell him she believes Monika could be the balance that he needs, despite her character seeming unpredictable and the opposite of his. As the conversation plays in my mind, I feel something loosen inside me for the first time. A quiet permission to let go of the past – and the hurt.
By the time we’ve wrapped up the meeting with Habib, the rain has stopped and it’s nearly time to go home. Habib shuts the door to the conference room behind him and Sadia exhales before slumping into her chair.
‘That was .?.?. amazing!’ I tell her, in disbelief at how things turned around. ‘You knew exactly what to say to make him stay.’
‘I didn’t,’ Sadia admits.
‘You didn’t?’
‘Not at all. Every client we have is different and you never know how something will resonate with them, so what you just saw? There was no formula I was following there.’
‘That was pure instinct?’
‘Something like that.’ Sadia stares at the empty chair in front of her. ‘The look in his eyes is one I recognised. I used to wear it all the time.’
I sit up straighter, surprised. I’ve wondered about Sadia’s personal life but didn’t want to pry.
‘I lost my husband a few years back. Complications during surgery.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say and then immediately scold myself, because after Baba died those were the words I hated hearing the most.
Sadia smiles wistfully. ‘I’ve been in Habib’s shoes. I’ve been afraid to move forward after loss. Terrified to give myself to someone after such a long time.’ Sadia swallows. ‘Most people think that matchmaking is about putting people together, but most of the time it’s about putting yourself together. Making space for the parts of yourself you’ve been avoiding.’
‘Are you still afraid?’ I ask, unable to keep the question from leaving my lips.
Sadia’s face breaks into a smile. ‘No, I’m not. I used to think that being vulnerable was a weakness, but it’s the complete opposite. It’s a strength, and connection is the tool we need to combat the fear altogether. To connect is a choice – and what’s braver than choosing to do something rather than be ruled by an emotion?’
‘God, you’re so wise,’ I say before I can stop myself.
Sadia lets out a laugh. ‘I’ve had years of experience – and therapy.’
We leave the conference room and head back to the office. Salman is still at his desk, a camera in his hands. He looks upfrom the screen and catches my eye as I stop at my desk.
As we gaze at one another, my mind drifts back to the moment things all fell apart. I want to forgive him for what he did, but not knowing why he broke up with me still takes up space in my mind.
I pack up my desk, shoving things into my bag, thinking about Habib and the moment he almost walked away but chose not to. I might not have all the answers yet, but I hope that I’ll find the strength to act the same when the time comes.
That I won’t let fear rule me.
20
‘Are you sure you don’t want to paint the dragon?’ Ma asks, peering over her glasses at the white dragon. ‘You used to love them when you were younger.’
‘I’m sure, Ma. Besides, that’s a money-box dragon. Are you forgetting I make all my money from a legitimate business and not cash in hand from you?’ I hip-bump her. ‘I’m basically an adult now, remember?’
‘Of course, how could I forget?’ Ma laughs. ‘Well, I’m glad that even as anadultyou still have time for me.’
My cheeks flush, even though I know Ma didn’t mean it as a dig. With everything going on at work and trying to balance my friendships with the gang, it’s been difficult to find the time to hang out with Ma without feeling absolutely shattered. So when I saw on the calendar that Ma actually had the weekend off, I booked us in for a session at Flying Saucers, a pottery painting studio up in Clifton.
‘Ma, really? Another plate?’
Ma grimaces. ‘OK, Imighthave broken another plate this morning while you were asleep.’
I shake my head. I might be a walking liability, but Ma is even worse. It’s one of the reasons we started coming here in the first place. It was a way to spend quality time while also replacing the broken dishes in our house.
