What He Never Said ✔️

chapter twenty-one • broken boy

"The single most extraordinary thing I've ever done with my life is fall in love with you."
- Susan Kelechi Watson

"Bowie, we can't eat here!" Zayna shrieks. "This place is too expensive. We work at a diner, for fuck's sake."

I take her hand and lead her into the steakhouse. "It's not that expensive. Besides, my mom gave me a coupon. We get a free lava cake with our meal."

A man with a trim mustache and wiry glasses guides us to a table. There are no booths in this restaurant, that's how fancy it is. I hold out Zayna's chair for her and then take a seat.

"I don't care what you say. I'm ordering the cheapest thing on the menu," she says, picking up the leather-bound book and flipping through it. Her eyes widen as she reads the prices out loud.

"Babe, stop. Get whatever you want," I assure her.

"But—"

"But nothing. You've been there for me a lot lately. I just want to make sure you know how important you are to me, and how utterly lost I'd be without you."

Her cheeks turn scarlet. She looks away, but I've already caught her blushing. It's possibly the most adorable thing I've ever witnessed.

"Also," I add, "I was kinda hoping to show off my smoking hot girlfriend for a few hours."

"Smoking hot" is an understatement. Zayna and I both dressed up for the evening. I'm wearing a light blue button-up shirt—according to Zayna, it brings out my eyes—with a pair of gray dress pants and a matching suit coat. She looks like a literal goddess in a skin-tight black dress that goes down to her knees and accentuates her slender waist and wide-set hips.

Days like today make me wish I was still at university. I miss the privacy of my dorm room. With her brother and my parents always around, squeezing in alone time can be a challenge.

Of course, I'm not dating Zayna because of her remarkable body. I'm in love with her. Even if we weren't having sex, even if we weren't doing anything physical at all, I would still think the world of her.

We order drinks and decide what we want to eat. Since we're at a steakhouse, I go with the obvious choice and get a ribeye. Zayna, however, is searching the menu for chicken tenders and fries.

"I've told you before, I have the palette of a five-year-old," she reminds me, taking a sip of her ice water. "The chicken alfredo looks really good, though."

"Yes, it—" I go silent. I can actually feel the color leave my face.

Sitting at a table not even twenty feet from us, I see Benson and Alyx. His dark gaze meets mine as he raises his hand in a friendly wave.

"My brother's here. Put your sweater on," I warn Zayna as Benson approaches us.

She must hear the urgency in my voice, because she silently obeys, and Zayna is neither silent nor obedient—two of the qualities I love most about her.

"Pray this is quick," I whisper, clenching my fists under the table.

"Bowie! How's it going, little brother?" Benson asks, wearing his usual carefree grin that I loathe so much.

"Fine. We're fine." I try to force a smile, but my lips are set in a straight line. "Just trying to figure out what to order."

"Well, everything's good. Alyx and I come here all the time," he tells me. Now I know why Mom had a coupon on-hand.

"I'll take your word for it," I say, hoping he gets the hint and leaves us alone.

"So... who's your beautiful friend here?" Benson's brown eyes turn to Zayna, who responds with a nervous chuckle.

"This is Zayna. She and I work together," I reply. My hands, still clenched, are now shaking.

He nods his head and flashes an even bigger, faker smile. "Ah, well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Zayna."

He's still looking at her. He needs to stop looking at her.

Suddenly, Zayna takes out her phone. Her lips form a perfect "O" as she shakes her head in dismay.

"What's wrong?" I ask her.

"It's my mom. She fell down the stairs. We've got to go!" she exclaims, rising from her seat, taking my hand, and practically dragging me out the door.

"Oh, well, I hope everything turns out okay!" Benson calls after us.

Once the crisp night air touches my skin, my anger begins to dissipate. I pull Zayna into my arms, grateful for her ability to make up a lie on the spot. If not for her bogus story about her mom falling down the stairs—I know for a fact she hasn't spoken to her mom in years—we'd still be stuck in there, locked in conversation with my pervy older brother.

And the way he was ogling at Zayna made me want to break his fucking nose.

"It's okay. We're okay," I hear Zayna whisper.

"I hate him," I say into her shoulder. "Fuck, I hate him so much."

"Hey, look at me." She takes a step back, forcing me to make eye contact. "Remember what you said earlier? How I've been there for you a lot lately?"

I nod my head. "Yeah, I remember."

"I'm always going to be there, just like you were there for me when I needed you. You're my boyfriend, Bowie, and I love you."

My eyes turn to saucers. My jaw hits the floor.

She loves me?

After a thirty-second moment of silence, I manage to say, "I... I thought you weren't ready to use those words yet."

"I wasn't. Maybe I'm still not." She places her hands on my chest and gazes up at me. "Bowie, this thing we have, it terrifies me. It absolutely terrifies me. But at the same time, it's the realest thing I've ever felt. There are so many uncertainties in my life, but you're not one of them. I know what I want, and that's you. On good days and bad days and every day in between, I want you."

I'm smiling so much that my face hurts. I caress her cheek with my thumb before connecting my lips to hers.

"I love you so much," I murmur.

She bites down on her bottom lip. "I know, Bowie. I love you, too."