The Rich Life

22

The next night I dressed in jeans and high heels and made my way to his apartment. It was right next to the Thames and he was living on the top floor of an apartment that gave me that wooden minimalist feel. Not like the dreary, stately house I lived in. I loved the huge glass windows that gave a panoramic view of the river and the London Eye which cast a bluish light over the living room.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" He said. Looking at all of this reminded me how much I missed my home when I was in NYC.

"Yes," I breathed, hypnotised. He gently dragged me to the kitchen and sat me on the stool.

"I didn't want to take you to some stuffy restaurant. You've probably had enough of those. That means you can try some of my home cooking. And you're helping me,"

"God. That gives you the perfect excuse to poison me,"

He pretended to be wounded, "My cooking isn't that bad!"

"I'll be the judge of that mate," I replied back.

From what I could tell, he was rich, I mean aren't investment bankers rich? But he preferred to live in a homely sort of way. Not in the rich, fancy way that Adam lived. The beautiful walls covered in renaissance paintings. The haunting portrait of Mehmed II that hung in the library, a gift from Halima.  I missed that.

We cooked together sweet and sour chicken with sticky rice and hand-rolled our own sushi. All my favourite foods. Huh.

"How do you know these are my favourite foods?" we put the food into plates and made our way on to the balcony.

"Amara. These are my favourite foods too," He replied back slowly. Oh well.

We sat on the balcony with the heaters warming us up. It really was good food.

"Fine. This is delicious," I said.

All of this: The food, laughter, cooking and teasing, all felt like a huge betrayal to Adam. I had done all of this with him. It didn't feel right doing it with Karamat. I looked at the green eyes, imagining them to be brown. That made the heartache worse. I wish I was with him and not Karamat. But you know what hurt worse? the fact he told me he loved me and then I find him balls-deep in his secretary.

Happiness. Pain. Love. Hatred. Desire. War. Anguish. All of these emotions tangled in my head, making it spin. Maribelle suffocating me. Adam proposing to me. The anger I felt beforehand. Anthony playing his kazoo. Leanne bringing me news of another case winning. The lovebites on my neck. The diamond necklace. But I was brought back to the present, beautiful Karamat and his beautiful meal on the even more beautiful balcony. I would trade all the diamonds, riches and gold in the world if it was Adam instead of him.

"You have the most beautiful eyes," Karamat said, leaning in.

"You have the most beautiful eyes in the world. I can look in them and feel happy," Adam pressed me further in the wall, his kisses making his way up my collarbo-

Karamat's lips brushed against mine and jumped back. Then I felt guilty of thinking of Adam when Karamat tried so hard in all of this, he helped me at the bench, bought the hot chocolate. Adam took all of his awful demons out on me. Adam shattered my heart like glass. After all that I told him about me. After I had tried so hard for him. Adam had cheated and not Karamat. I was horribly aware of my breathing rapidly. The uncomfortable and sheepish look on Karamat's face.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this,"

I ran out of the apartment, my Louboutins killing my feet. I was desperate to get out of here and go back to my safe bed. I stopped halfway down the stairs, screaming in frustration, kicking my heels off and grabbing the damned shoes. Karamat was yelling my name from three flights up and his increasingly nearing footsteps. I burst into babyish tears and went down the flight of stairs, the stinging cold cutting into my face and freezing my tears into place. That's what it felt like anyway. My heart thudding. The heels leaving bloody cuts on my feet. Like the times I ran from Wachtalls to Zajmi Industries.