Becky's POV
When Riad walked through the door, he didn't say a word to me - didn't even shed his laptop bag and coat at the door. He just walked straight over to me with his hand outstretched, and I held out the letter obediently. His eyes scanned all over it, quickly, from top to bottom and then once more.
"Well," he said, setting it down on the coffee table.
"Well," I agreed. He finally lifted the strap of the bag over his head, setting it down on the floor, and stripped out of his coat. He sat down next to me and stared at his hands for a moment.
"I've been consulting with some people," he said. "My new lawyer - chosen very carefully, I promise. I don't think she'll have quite as much of a weakness for Jess as Regman did. And I talked to some people on the inside who are pulling for me. They've all agreed that we're through the woods now. There'll be no more interviews or surprise visits. The decision's been made, the file's been sealed. So really - there's no reason to keep doing this." I stared at him.
"Sorry?"
"I know what the contract says." He met my eyes, finally. I couldn't quite read his face. "Six more months. But I'm willing to break it, if you are. I can have the money by tomorrow." I clasped my fingers together tightly in my lap
. "I think that's a little premature. I promise I'll stop throwing things at your head." He let out a little huff of laughter.
"Regardless," he said. "I think this will be better for both of us. Don't you?" I bit my lip.
"I always just...I guess I just figured we'd stick to the terms of our agreement."
"I did too. But wouldn't you rather go home?"
"I'm not sure what you want me to say."
"I'm sorry," he said, after a moment's hesitation. "I thought this would be an easy decision for you. I wouldn't have brought it up, otherwise."
"I just don't think it's a good idea to assume we're out of the woods," I said. "Do you?"
He was tapping out an abstract rhythm on his knee, his fingers seeming to move almost of their own accord.
"Please don't take this the wrong way," he said, finally. "But I really do think it'll be better if we don't have to see each other." My throat felt very dry.
"Better for who?" I said. He didn't answer - he just stood and walked away, up the stairs to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. It seemed our fight wasn't over. He was right. I had to remind myself of that, forcefully, because I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach.
We were getting entangled with each other in a way that simply wasn't practical. Proximity had fooled us into believing we were...if not in love, then at least some reasonable facsimile of it.
Sitting there alone on the sofa, I remembered a beginning psychology class I'd taken in college, because it seemed like the easiest way to fulfill a science requirement. The professor had gone around the room and asked everyone to name the place where they'd encountered their last romantic interest - a chorus of school, work, school, work, school, school, and work followed.
The teacher explained that people feel more affection and emotional investment with people to whom they are close in proximity. We don't date classmates and co-workers just because it's convenient, we do it because we are literally close to them. I'd been so, so stupid to think I could live with a man who looked like Riad and not find myself head-over-heels for him within a few months. No matter what I "knew," the deeper parts of my brain - the parts I couldn't control - would whisper sweet nothings until I lost myself in feelings that didn't make any logical sense at all.
A man like Riad had no time for someone like me. He'd made that abundantly clear. Finally, I managed to drag myself up off the sofa and over to my studio, in the spare bedroom. I folded up my easel and packed up all my charcoals and pastels, getting everything ready for a move to... ...where the hell would I go?
This whole time, I'd been picturing myself going back to my old apartment. But of course, that wasn't "my apartment" anymore. Someone else lived there now. I hadn't expected to grapple with this question so soon, and now I was completely lost. Where on earth would I go? And I had to consider that quite literally. With two million dollars, I could go anywhere I wanted and start an entirely new life.
Riad had left his laptop bag sitting in the living room where he'd dropped it, so I pulled out the computer and started to browse. After a few minutes, in spite of myself, I found myself back to browsing apartments that were ten minutes away. I didn't particularly love this city, but at least it was familiar. There was something to be said for familiarity.
When Riad finally emerged from the bedroom, I half-expected him to have packed all my clothes into liquor boxes. He hadn't, of course. I wondered if he expected me to do it. Which reminded me - I was going to need some boxes. While he stood in front of the open fridge, staring, as if he expected some previous unknown foodstuffs to have appeared in the last few hours, I heard his phone go off in his pocket. I made the barest effort to pretend I wasn't listening, but of course I was.
"Zara," he said, turning to look at me. "Hi." I perked up. "You're going to be in town this weekend? Well, that's great news. Just you?"
I watched his face carefully, but he betrayed almost nothing.
"Of course you can stay here," he said. "Becky can move her art supplies out of the big spare room....no, no, don't worry about it, it's no problem."
After they'd finalized their plans and said their goodbyes, I stood up and headed into the kitchen. Riad shoved the phone back in his pocket.
"Well," he said. "I guess we'd better delay things until she's gone home, at least."
"See," I said. "This is the kind of thing I'm talking about." He shrugged.
"If you'd already moved out, I just would have told her you were away at an...art conference." He pulled a beer out of the fridge.
"That's a thing that exists, isn't it?"
"With all my clothes and personal belongings?" I countered. "And the place is being sprayed for cockroaches, so she can't come over."
"Sure, there's no way she'll get suspicious."
"We can talk about this after she leaves," he said, meaningfully, prying the lid off his beer and tossing it into the trash can. From his tone, it was quite clear he wasn't really open to further negotiations. Well. We'd see about that. -
Zara arrived on Friday evening, all smiles and sass like usual. She hugged me tightly, then promptly took us out to a late dinner and bought us enough drinks that we were actually able to act like a couple again.
Riad retired to bed early, leaving me and Zara sitting on the sofa, quietly chit-chatting about everything that came to mind. She'd managed to land another big client who was even more insufferable than the last, so we chuckled over her stories for a while as the clock ticked quietly in the background.
After a silence, she switched gears.
"Is everything going okay between you two?"
I hesitated. Obviously, we weren't pretending as well as I'd thought.
"I guess so," I said, although nothing could be further from the truth.
"It's just tough right now. I'm not really sure why."
"Riri tends to bring his work stress home with him," Zara said, stretching her legs out in front of her. "He has trouble letting it go. I'm sure that's not easy for you."
"Yeah," I said, vaguely, hugging my knees to my chest. The urge to be honest with her was almost overwhelming me. It was welling up in my throat. But I couldn't. I knew I couldn't.
"Hey, are you hungry?" Zara glanced up at the clock. "Jesus. It's been ages since dinner. No wonder. I think I'm going to order a pizza, you want any?"
"Sure, I guess. Any kind. I'm not picky." I played with a loose thread on my shirt while Zara made her phone call. I was trying to think of a way I could get advice from her without actually being honest about what was going on. The opportunity to get her unique perspective on Riad's behavior was just too tempting.
When she sat back down, I had something prepared.
"Do you ever feel like Riad's sort of...distant?"
"Oh, all the time," Zara replied. "He's just trying to protect himself - I don't know why, but I always figured he let his guard down around you."
"Maybe not as much as I thought," I admitted. "Sometimes it's like I just can't read him. I have no idea what he wants from me." Zara was nodding, slowly.
"It's not easy," she said. "I wish I had a simple answer for you, but even I can't get him to open up, most of the time. He has to get there on his own. Most people do, really." She looked off into the distance, thoughtfully. "He's a tough nut to crack, that one."
The buzzer went off. "Well, that was fast," Lindsey said, getting to her feet. "Somebody's getting an extra good tip." She flung the door open. A voice came into the room from the hallway:
"Where is he?" My heart dropped into my stomach. Jessica stormed into the room, unkempt and rain-drenched, dripping all over the floor. I must have stared at her like a deer in the headlights. Even knowing what I now knew about her, I still couldn't quite reconcile the sight of her, unhinged like this, with the woman I'd known.
"Who the fuck are you?" Zara demanded, looking like she wasn't sure whether to laugh at her, or punch her in the stomach. Jessica was already charging towards the staircase. Zara ran after her, grabbing her arm and dragging her back.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa there, crazy. Just where exactly do you think you're going?"
Jessica fought and twisted, her eyes dangerously wild.
"I have to talk to him," she insisted. "I have to talk to Riad. He'll want to see me."
"Becky, call the cops." Zara was maintaining a vice grip.
"I don't think Riri needs to talk to you, honey."
"RIAD!" Jess shrieked, loud enough to make me flinch. The bedroom door popped open a few moments later. The look on his face was priceless. He thundered down the stairs, wearing just his pajama pants, but still managing to look incredibly threatening.
I actually took a step back as he reached the main floor, snatching Jess's arm away from his sister's grasp and staring her down.
"What are you doing here?" he snarled, his chest rising and falling quickly with every breath.
"I just needed to see you," said Jess, very sweetly, her attitude completely changed. "Your friend here let me right in."
"I'm his sister," said Zara, frostily. "And I was expecting a pizza."
Jess was giving him the puppy-dog face; it made me feel vaguely sick to my stomach.
"I just want to talk to you, Ri. Please. Don't make me do something I'll regret."
Riads's jaw twitched.
"I'm not afraid of you," he said.
"Oh, really?" Jess's eyes flickered to Zara.
"Does she already know?"
"There's nothing to know," said Riad, through clenched teeth.
"Sure, I guess you're right," Jessica replied, still looking at Zara.
"Assuming you're aware that his marriage is a fake." Zara closed her eyes for a minute, letting out a long, deep sigh.
"Of course I know," she said. "I'm his big sister, you lunatic." Now, everyone in the room was staring at her. "We can talk about all that later," said Zara, with a dismissive gesture.
"The important thing is, are you going to get the fuck out of here and leave him alone for the rest of your natural life? Because if not, you're going to buy yourself a world of hurt."
"Fine," Jessica spat. Riad let her go, roughly, and she slunk towards the door.
"I hope you're very happy together." And with that, she was gone. Zara slammed and locked the door behind her.
"Unbelievable," she said. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Riad demanded, walking towards her.
"It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble."
"I don't know," Zara replied, indignant. "Does it matter? You're the one with the fake fucking marriage, little brother."
"I can't believe you," said Riad, but there was no real hostility in his voice.
"I can't believe you," she countered. "Lying to your own sister. You should know by now that it never works. Anybody with half a brain can put the pieces together."
"Well, for your information, I've got my citizenship now."
"Good for you. You can fool the government, but you can't fool me. Just keep that in mind, okay?"
She turned and began walking towards her room, but stopped halfway there and turned to look at both of us.
"Oh - by the way - you two realize you're really in love with each other, right?"
After she shut the guest room door behind her, Riad turned to me.
"Ignore her," he said. "She's just trying to be obnoxious." I stared at him.
"That's what you feel compelled to comment on? Really?"
"What else is there to say?" I didn't actually have an answer for him. The buzzer went off again.
"That's got to be the pizza, this time," I said.
Riad looked through the peep-hole carefully before he opened the door. Once the pizza was paid for, he dropped it on the coffee table and sat down, opening the box and reaching for a slice.
"Zara won't mind, as long as we leave some for her," he said.
"Stress eating?" I teased, taking a slice for myself.
"No," he replied, indignantly, around a mouthful of cheese. To this day, I'll never know what possessed me to say the next thing that popped out of my mouth.
"You know, the last time we had pizza together it didn't really end well."
"I'm aware," he said, drily. We both chewed in silence for a moment. "I know this doesn't mean much now," he said, "but if I had the chance to start over with this, I'd do things differently."
"And marry someone else?" I suggested. He didn't say no - but he didn't say yes, either.
"I let the whole thing go to my head," he said, after a while. "I actually thought..."
My fingers tightened around the pizza crust I was holding.
"You actually thought...?" I prompted. He shook his head.
"No - no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I've put you in enough unenviable situations as it is."
"Hey," I said, gently. "I've had a great time, being your wife."
I thought of the interview, and our fight.
"Well...most of the time." He laughed a little.
"That's very kind of you to say."
"I don't just want to walk away from it prematurely," I went on. "I mean, you know...in case something else comes up." He shut his eyes for a moment, and then spoke again.
"I'm sorry I called you selfish," he said. "I'm the selfish one. I have been from the beginning. You've been very sweet, and kind, and tolerant of the most awkward situation possible. I appreciate everything you've done. I really do. But Becky-" he hesitated, and took a deep breath. "I can't be around you anymore."
My pulse was thumping deafeningly in my ears. "Why not?"
"Do I really have to spell it out for you?" He looked at me, a little disbelieving.
"I'd really appreciate it," I said, my voice sounding very distant.
"I like you," he said, simply. "That's all. Better than anyone I've ever really dated. I thought it would be all right, at first - lend an air of authenticity to the whole thing. Couldn't possibly hurt for me to be little bit smitten, could it?" I pinched myself.
"Ow," I said. He stared at me. "Did you just pinch yourself?"
"No," I said. "Are you being serious right now?"
"Of course I am," he said, gently. "I'm sorry, I thought it was obvious."
"It was....not," I said. "Obvious. Not at all."
"Well," he said. "This is awkward." I laughed. I had to.
"So, what...you thought I knew, and I was just toying with your emotions to get in your pants?"
"It doesn't sound very sensible," he said slowly, "when you put it like that."
"It doesn't sound very sensible no matter what," I said.
"Why on earth would you be so paranoid?"
"Wait, wait," he said. "So if you weren't toying with me - what, then?"
My throat constricted. "What do you mean?"
"Do you...are you..." I'd never seen him at such a complete loss for words before.
"Relax," I said, finally, putting him out of his misery.
"I...I like you, too." Being perfectly honest, the word "like" didn't even begin to cover it. But I wasn't going to let myself go there. Not just yet.
"Becky..." He looked at me with an expression that was some strange mix of hope and trepidation, mixed with relief, mixed with...
"Hey," I said. "Let's not get too carried away. We've known each other for what...eight months?"
"And yet, you're my wife." Such simple words, coming out of his mouth - but suddenly, they took on a whole new meaning.
"I know," I said. "But all the same."
"All the same," he agreed, his shoulders relaxing a little. I leaned back on the sofa and rested against him, letting his arm drape over my shoulders. Just like a real couple. And for once, that thought didn't come with a side of heartache.
"Oh - Becky?" he said, after a long silence. I stirred.
"Yeah?"
"Please don't tell my sister," he said. "She'll never shut up about being right."
The guest room door popped open.
"I heard that, you jackass."