“That was why he sent me. He knows you very well.”
“Not well enough to know that his death would have utterly destroyed me.” It was churlish and horrible to blame him for putting his needs before mine, and I hated myself for saying it, but when it was someone who was your whole heart and soul…
“He knows. And I have faith that he will tell you that one day.” A fleeting twinge of sadness passed over El-Mudad’s face, then vanished. “He has the opportunity. Some are not so lucky.”
“There’s a story here,” I said, not out of sarcasm, but solidarity.
He nodded. “I told you about the name I use in clubs? Emir?”
“That…it was from a Turkish guy who fucked you,” I remembered aloud.
“Yes. He was my very first.” El-Mudad paused, sucking on his bottom lip. “My first fuck. My first love. And my first heartbreak.”
I waited in silence until he continued.
“You see, he has a problem, like Neil’s. Sadness turns to excess, excess turns to illness. There came a point where I couldn’t stay, anymore.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. “You don’t think I should leave Neil, do you?”
“What happens between the two of you, that is for you to decide. But I know that, no matter how often I drove Emir to the hospital, I lied to doctors, I held him in my arms as he shivered and vomited all over himself…never once did he show remorse.” El-Mudad looked away. “Neil, for all of his flaws and excesses, knows that he is hurting you, and he cares. Emir knew how he hurt me. And he did not, or could not.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m so sorry. You must have loved him very much.”
“To my detriment. But, if you notice, I have not run from Neil. And I will not run from you.”
I launched myself across the couch, into El-Mudad’s arms. It was so familiar, yet so strange to me in this context; usually, he held me as Emir, my sex partner, and usually, I was crying for much better reasons.
I’d gone so long without any touch like this. Platonic hugs and pats on the back were awesome, but I needed someone with whom I had a much different emotional connection. Next to Neil, El-Mudad was the only guy for the job.
He let me cry on him for a long time, stroking my hair and occasionally kissing my forehead. I totally got snot on his t-shirt, but he didn’t complain. The sun went down over the Atlantic while he held me, and we watched it together, until we sat in the twilight dark of the living room.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered, reluctant to break the tranquil silence around us.
He made an affirmative noise.
“This house is kind of scary when you’re alone.” I was angling for him to stay. I didn’t care if he knew it. I didn’t care if it was pathetic. “Not in a Scooby-Doo way. I just think if someone broke in all the way on the other side of the house, you know? And you hear all those stories all the time about people living in other people’s houses, and the residents never know—”
“Sophie,” he said, gently scolding. “Ask me to stay.”
I smiled sleepily. “Will you stay?”
“For as long as you need me.”
Like clockwork, Olivia woke just in time for dinner. And, as
was so, so typical of me, I’d forgotten to make it.
“Son of a bitch!” I sat up and all the drainage in my cried-out head sloshed forward, giving me and instant, pounding headache. “I forgot to make anything to eat!”
“You still have the mac and cheese,” El-Mudad reminded me while I freaked out. “I’ll go heat it up.”
“Yes! You are a lifesaver!” I told him, and sprinted off to collect Olivia.
The little banshee stood in her crib, holding onto the bars as she howled. Angry tears streamed down her face. I couldn’t imagine it was fun to wake up with wet pants and an empty stomach.
Wait, I could totally imagine that. I went to college.
“Come here, baby.” I lifted her up and seated her on my hip. Her golden curls were sweat-damp at the back of her neck, and her body was warm from sleep. I took her to her changing table and stripped her out of her onesie, all while she screamed and wriggled and was generally furious with me.