Drowning

Thirty Two;

"He's fine. Work is tough at the moment. A lot of long hours," Salma says, looking down at her shoes. I felt a pang of sadness for her. Not because I pitied her, a pregnant lady, spending her days mostly alone, but because I think, deep down, we both knew that he, maybe, wasn't working those extra hours.

"At least you'll have more money for when the baby's born," I offer, my tone trying to sound light.

"Yeah, exactly," Salma nods, sounding defeated. With a loud sigh, Salma changed the subject. "So, how's Harry?"

"Harry? Yeah, he's good," I nod, clearing my throat after speaking. I began to wonder if she knew that Harry had called Daniel; if she knew about the threats he had thrown over the phone. I doubted her knowledge of this, though. If she knew, she sure as hell wouldn't be speaking to me right now.

"He couldn't make it?"

"No, not tonight." I say.

"The gender reveal is in the past, Zee," Salma says.

"I know." I say. "He's just busy."

"I like him, I think." Salma says, taking me by surprise.

"You do?"

"He's protective over you. Sure, maybe he caused a scene at the reveal, but that was only due to your theatrics. Protecting you, is always in his best interest, or so it seems." she says. "He and I may never get along, really, but I like him for you." she tells me. In her own, somewhat backwards, way, this was a huge compliment.

"That means a lot to me, Sam. Really." I smile. Salma smiled back, sweetly.

"Have you spoken to mum and dad yet?" she asks.

"Not yet,"

"You should go find them," she says. "Mum will kill you if she finds out that you've been here for a while without finding her," she chuckles.

"Oh, I'm aware," I smile. "I'll catch you later,"

"Later," she says.

I left the second dining hall, somehow not feeling deflated, defeated and miserable. It felt nice to be able to stand there and converse with my sister. No conflict, minimal fakery, just two people, chatting. Now, I wasn't naive; I wouldn't get used to it. But, for now, it was nice to be civil with her.

As I entered into the general hallway, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around, feeling a twinge of dread as I saw who tapped me.

"Daniel," I exhale.

"Evening, Zahara." he says. "You look wonderful." he tells me. His voice wasn't suggestive, or perverted. It was merely a casual compliment

"Thank you," I say, unsure of what else I could respond with. "I don't suppose you've seen my wife anywhere, have you?" he asks.

"Second dining hall." I inform him.

"Brilliant, thanks." he says briefly, his words becoming lost in the masses of people as he walked away to find my sister.

I was feeling light. Despite mine and Harry's argument earlier today, I felt good. My family, thus far, weren't being insufferable, and I was very glad about that.

After grabbing a quick drink, just white wine, I finally managed to track down my parents, in the main living room. My father was chatting with some relatives and drinking whiskey, whilst my mother stood at the opposite end of the room, bitching about everybody with Tilda, Theresa's best friend. Tilda was the sort of person that I was raised to call 'aunt', but was really just a family friend.