The following day, Zain waited till the time he knew George would be on to going out of the city and paid Emma a surprise visit, only too early to meet her at her gate just when she was returning from escorting her husband. . . no, George to the airport.
When she stepped out of her car, she looked surprised with a hint of uneasiness as she approached him. “Hey, Zain.”
He felt the usual thrill from the way she said his name. “Emma.” He leaned forward, kissing her on the cheek and as usual making sure it was as close to her lips as he could get it. He loved the way she grew fidgety each time.
“What a surprise seeing you here.” She said with a tentative smile. “If you're here for George, he's already left for California.”
“I'm not here for him actually.” He clarified.
She didn't seem to deem his visit a pleasant one, but he could live with that... For now.
Smiling, he increased their proximity until they stood just some inches apart from each other, her Jasmine perfume tempting him to lean in and smell her delectable neck. He stomped on the thought before he could pull through with it. “I came for you.”
She unconsciously sucked in a nervous breath. “Why? What for?” Turning, she started off clumsily in a way that gave him the cue to follow.
Contended by the effect he still had on her, he followed her past the security and into her house. “Since your husband is not here to keep you occupied, I've decided to spend the whole day with you. And your daughter of course.” He said when they'd entered the main building.
It was a beautiful, large duplex house painted in bluish green. But the insides were painted in white with feminine accentuations. No doubt George had given Emma the choice of decorating it.
Emma turned to face him, a nervous smile playing on her lips. “Really now?”
“Of course.” Zain breathed a sigh of relief. She at least showed no sign of rejecting his offer. “And that reminds me. I haven't really been introduced to your daughter. I'd really like to meet her.”
“Really?”
“Of course!” He replied enthusiastically, wondering why she looked so doubtful.
“Great then. I'll bring her down. She's with her grandaunt.”
As soon as Emma left and he sat on one of the couches, the doubts set in. Was he really ready to meet Amy? After all she was a child who wasn't his, a child Emma had with another man. He didn't know what feelings to expect this to provoke in him, and he started wondering if he could really love her as his own when he and Emma eventually reunited.
When after a few minutes he heard the clicks of Emma's heels on the tiled floor, he braced himself, but when he looked up at the child in her mother's arms, he froze.
She was. . . beautiful, no doubt like her mother, and she was giggling as Emma tickled her, green eyes a mirror of her mother's eyes crinkling with genuine mirth. She exuded such happy warmth he couldn't help but get infused by it.
Hypnotized, he barely noticed Emma placing the child just in front of him even though his eyes followed the movement.
“So this is Amy, my precious daughter.” It was Emma's voice which fanged him from the trance and he snapped to consciousness to find the little girl staring at him curiously.
Eye brows crinkling in confusion, she looked up at her mum who stood beside her, then refocused on him before looking up at her mother again. “Who is he mummy?”
Her carefully formed and voiced words, was angelic and like music, soothing his nerves. Zain looked at Em who seemed to have held her breath in anticipation before getting down on his knees so he was on a somewhat uniform level with the little girl although he had to hunch his back.
“Hey, there, Amy. I'm Zain. Da... Uncle Zain.”
“Zain.” The little girl said it as if tasting the name on her tongue for the first time, willing her developing mind to store it.
“Yes, Zain.” An inexplicable joy filled his heart at the way her eyes warmed at him. “I'm a friend of your mama.” He smiled at Emma, noticing just how relieved her expression was compared to the previous.
“She's beautiful.” He whispered. “I'm in love.”
He was pretty sure he would love her as his daughter if Emma accepted him, though it was such a pity she wasn't his. And knowing he wasn't the one who fathered Emma's first child hurt a bit.
He pulled his soon to be step daughter into a big hug before sitting back on the couch and placing her on his laps. She seemed to be the free spirited type who weren't choosy with the people they bonded with. It would work in his favour when he got around to making her accept him as a father.
“So how old are you Amy?”
“I'm three.” She replied with a suspicion of uncertainty. “What about you?”
Zain chuckled lightly at her enquiry as Emma took the space beside him. “Well, I'm thirty.”
“Oh just like mummy!” Amy gave a vague squeal, and it was obvious she'd been equipped with the basic information.
“I brought you two some coffee.” A middle aged woman who Zain assumed was Emma's aunt appeared with a tray on which two cups of coffee on plates sat.
“Thank you aunt.” Em smiled warmly at her, an indication of the good relationship they shared.
“Hello.” Zain said tentatively, feeling a bit uneasy by the suspicious glint in her eyes.
“Hello there, you must be Zain.” she replied, the edge in her tone not tampered with, and Zain suddenly remembered the day he'd come with George three weeks ago, how she'd looked at them as they'd barged into the kitchen. “It's a pleasure finally meeting you.”
That made Zain figure Emma must've told her about them knowing each other since about ten years ago, though it made him wonder just how much she'd shared. “The pleasure is mine, madam.”
“I'll take Amy so you two can talk.” She took Amy from Zain, holding the little girl by her buttom and hugging her to her chest before walking off.
He met Emma's gaze and smiled. “You mothered a sweet kid.”
Em smiled back warmly. “She's my pride and joy.”
Nodding slowly, Zain didn't know what to feel or say, and an awkward silence settled on them for a while until he spoke. “I want to take you and Amy out. Something like a... a day out, or go to an amusement park. What do you say?”
Eyebrows knitting together, there was a cautious glint in her eyes for a while. “It sounds great.” She finally said, smiling.
It didn't sound like she particularly enjoyed the thought of them spending today together but he would be changing her opinion before night.
“You have quite a beautiful house.” He felt he at least had to compliment her.
“Thank you. George actually bought it some months before our marriage but I chose how the décor went.”
Zain maneuvered his eyes around until he saw something that made him freeze. It was a framed picture of George and Emma lying on grass, and judging from the silky white dress she wore, it was taken on their wedding day. He felt a stab in his heart, yet quite more than he would like to admit, she looked... happy in there.
Averting his gaze, he took a drink of the hot coffee. Looking at Em, he finally asked the question that he'd been holding himself from asking simply because he didn't want to know the details of how they 'fell in love'.
“So when did you and George meet?”
Emma raised an eyebrow, seemingly not expecting the question Then shrugging, she took another sip of her coffee, the mere sight of how her face contorted in innocent pleasure sending fire skirting to a certain body part of his. He immediately looked away, knowing he couldn't get a boner in front of her if he wanted to play his cards well.
“George and I actually met 3 months after our. . . you know, our separation. I listened to your advice that I visit a therapist or signed up for an emotional support group therapy. I researched and found one most intriguing in particular because the basic topics had so much to do with me. It was for people with traumatic past experiences of domestic abuses.”
“Do you miss him?” He suddenly asked impulsively.
“Who?” She asked and took a sip of her coffee, pretending she didn't know who he was talking about.
“Your dad, of course.”
She held her breath for a while then expelled it, as if trying to calm something in her. “I don't think it's necessarily called missing him. It's about wanting to see him to demand for explanations as to why he devastated the happy family we'd been together with my mum.”
Her gaze basked in a wealth of sadness as she spoke. It was obvious her past still hurt despite the emotional improvement, a past which had instilled so much fear in her she'd rejected all his advances towards her when they first met.
“When was the last time you heard of him.” He asked carefully, making sure to avert the question from her past to prevent old wounds from being ripped open.
Emma tried for a nonchalant shrug. “I've not spoke to him in about a decade as you know because he doesn't give a damn about me. But the last thing I heard of him five years ago was that he'd moved to California a long time ago with his new family. His wife and twin sons. He has never ever bothered to call me once. It's like I never existed for him.”
The pain she was trying so hard to camouflage radiated off her and squeezed at his heart. “Do you wish to someday meet him again? What would you do if he appeared here right now?”
“All I want is explanations, Zain. His reasons, why he changed so much. Don't get me wrong, I've moved on and don't reflect on the past much, but a little clarity will help to ease some pent-up emotions.” Then she put on a veneer of a smile, taking a sip from her cup.
While away for five years, he most often thought of how Emma was dealing with her fears and if she'd managed to get rid of them. Right now he wanted nothing but to ease whatever emotions she was feeling, some of which were too hidden to decipher.
Suddenly, he knew exactly what to do to earn more points with her and make her so grateful to him she wouldn't think of getting him out of her life.
Ever.