Holding On

sɪxᴛᴇᴇɴ

Emma's breath caught as her heart raced in her chest from... From what? Excitement? Fear? She could only stare at him in dumbfounded silence

She still couldn't believe it was him, couldn't believe she was seeing him again after five years even while he moved forward and his strikingly handsome figure loomed over her.

Memories of that one weekend they'd spent at his cabin filtered through her mind and she chased them away with an inner scowl.

"Emma..." His voice, so strong yet soft dipped her name in decadent chocolate, and she felt that same tingly sensation across her nerve endings. She quickly shook it off.

"Zain." His name tumbled from her lips in a breathless whisper she hadn't intended.

For several minutes on end, the hypnotic aura sizzled as they took in each other, and Emma found she couldn't move her tongue anymore.

It was he who broke the silence. "Hey, are you okay?" He reached out to touch her.

Out of a deep reflexive response, she slid back in her swivel chair so he couldn't reach her, unexplainably certain his touch would destroy her.

She saw him tense, hand stuck mid air, as the shock and hurt played in his eyes, but he soon chased away that expression with an unwavering smile as he sat down opposite her.

"Are you okay?" His smile started wavering after Emma could only stare, not able to utter a single word.

He was as handsome as she still remembered, pitch black hair with those piercing dark brown eyes that could make her knees buckle back then, a man in his prime who had had the ability to lead her down a path of sin.

Sure, he looked much leaner, no longer beefy, face thin.

Yet it was such a contrast to what she'd imagined him to look like by now; sick and pale and weak and blind and in a wheelchair, dying from the illness that had forced him to walk out of her life five years ago.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" He asked, voice mellowed with hesitation.

He'd obviously expected her to jump for joy the moment she set eyes on him. For the life of her, her mind couldn't seem to process a single word to say to him.

How was he even here like this, looking so strong and healthy? She'd stopped asking about him from Kevin two years ago when he'd suddenly refused sharing any information about Zain with her. Now here he was.

"Happy..." her voice came out as a whisper, sour from the bitterness she knew she shouldn't be feeling.

After all, allowing herself to feel it was the equivalence of saying she regretted the life she'd lived for the past four years.

Yet she thought back to that last night they'd been together in her apartment, the letter he'd left behind that had broken her into a million different pieces, and all the emotions came rushing back in.

The silence stretched on like a rubber band, morphed into an awkward shower that bathed them in uncertainties.

"Well, uhm... I just wanted. . . well, I've been cured Emma. I'm free of the illness." His voice was suddenly coloured by an expectant excitement, seemingly expecting her to react.

That explains...

"Aren't you gonna say anything? Ask me how and when?" He looked shocked by her silence and lack of response, not even to the joy of his freedom from the illness that'd hindered them from being together.

"I. . . I thought you'd be. . . happy." His voice shook with the hurt that weaved through it. "at least for me."

Emma tried to speak, she really tried, but her tongue seemed to be tied by the shock from the sight of him that still rattled her senses.

"I'm sorry. Perhaps. . . perhaps I didn't come at the right time. I'm sorry for bothering you."

As soon as Emma saw him stand up and about to leave, an inexplicable panic zinged through her veins and her voice finally came out, desperate. "No Zain. Please don't go."

But why exactly had she stopped him?

Zain smiled contentedly as he resumed his seat. "I get it. You are just shocked that I'm right in front of you after so many years. But I hope you are at least happy that I look this strong and fit. I'm free of the syndrome, Em. I'm no longer sick!"

"Of course. . . er my condolen. . . no I mean cogresstu. . . comgraf..." She sighed, realizing that all her memories of the alphabets had slipped down the drain. She just didn't know what to say.

She knew she should be happy. But her heart and her thoughts were racing furiously. Her mind told her he wasn't here only to let her know that he was no longer sick, the hope that was shining in his eyes was too hard to ignore.

What was the best way to tell him that someone else had occupied that space in her life?

The ringing cell phone spared her the awkwardness of having to actually force herself to say something corrigible.

She picked it up, glad for that minor distraction and hoped it would provide her an escape from the unsettling emotions churning through her with Zain's presence.

"Eva, are you done with the preparations?... Good, I'll be there in a minute."

Turning to Zain with a look she hoped was apologetic rather than nervous, she stood up. "I'm sorry, Zain. But I have a lot of work to do right now."

He raised a brow at her, looking stunned that she had no interest whatsoever in having a conversation with him. "Emma we haven't... "

"I need to go." She was out of the room before he could say more, fearing that being anymore close to him would just intensify the inner turmoil.

However, she should've known that he would follow. As she stepped out, he held her by the hand firmly and tilted her to face him. "Why are you trying to avoid me, Em? Why don't you wanna talk to me."

His touch sent a chill down her spine. "I'm not avoiding you. I'm just busy now. Maybe we could talk later." she glanced briefly at her secretary who looked at them with confused interest, and snatched her arm from Zain's hand.

Turning, she swore she would've run off if the happy, familiar voice of a little girl hadn't stopped her.

"Mummy. Mummy."

Giddy with happiness, the three year old run from Lizzy, one of Emma's models, towards Emma, eyes sparkling like the sun.

Picking up her daughter, joy temporarily dissipated the uncertain emotions as Emma held her to her chest in a loving, heartwarming hug.

"Sweety... Oh my sugar, my Amy, how are you? Mummy missed you so much. How was school today?"

"It was great mummy!"

"She's your daughter?" Beside her, Zain's voice came, filled with incredulity, stunned.

"Yes." She replied, and without looking to see his expression, she trotted off with her daughter.

As she went, she deliberately brushed her hand through her hair with the intention of showing him the one thing she hoped would shatter his need to see her again; her wedding ring.

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I hope you enjoyed the chapter? What are your thoughts on how the story will progress from here on?