Too Little, Too Late

38

October, 2021

Once the living lights were switched off, Ibrahim blew out a small breath and stepped into the foyer. He stopped in front of the mirror and took in his reflection.

His hair had been slicked back and his face was a little pale, devoid of any emotion. There were dark circles underneath each eye; not as dark as they'd been all week but still there all the same. He looked tired, even with his expensive outfit, and there was only so much he could do to hide it.

His suit was a deep shade of denim blue; perfectly tailored trousers and a double breasted blazer which he'd left unbuttoned, the hem brushing his mid-thighs and exposing the dark blue-black turtleneck he'd wore inside simply because he wasn't in the mood for a tie. A black strapped watch adorned his left wrist and there was a ring on his right hand; one that matched the one Ayra had worn on her way out to get ready at Ibtihaj's house.

Knowing – for the millionth time – that he couldn't ditch his parents' event for the entire Fahad family, Ibrahim turned away from the mirror and dropped his shoes on the rug. It was easy to put them on and when he rose to his full height, he straightened out the invisible creases on his outfit, grabbed his keys from the floating shelf, took one last look at his reflection, and exited the apartment.

It took two and a half minutes for the elevator carriage to come up to the tenth floor and he was glad it was empty. He stepped in, pressed the basement level button, and the doors slid shut. The descent began and stopped not long after, making Ibrahim's heart drop when he realised it was on the eighth floor; the one floor he'd avoided like a plague since the disastrous aftermath of the dinner with Serkan and Aliana; something he'd yet to fully recover from.

The elevator doors slid open and his chest squeezed at the sight of Bella. She raised her head, surprise as clear as day on her face at the sight of him. Regaining composure, she schooled her expression and stepped into the carriage, the doors sliding shut almost immediately. The journey down continued with them standing side by side, the mirrored walls reflecting their every angle.

Unlike him, Bella was brightly dressed in a tempting shade of burgundy red; an off-the-shoulder vintage tulle ball gown with ball sleeves, a clinched waist, and a layered tulle skirt that flowed down to the floor. Her hair was styled in an elegant chignon bun and her jewellery pieces were silver and simple including the clutch she held. As usual, her make-up was flawless; her lips a shade of burgundy that would have pulled him in for a kiss but Ibrahim was certain he didn't feel anything like that as the ride down continued.

When they got to the ground floor level, approaching the basement, she scoffed. "Really, Ibrahim? You're still going to ignore me even when we're in the same space?"

He told himself to not ball his hands into fists. "I'm not ignoring you."

"Funny." She said dryly. "Your actions are saying otherwise."

"There isn't much I want to say, Bella. There hasn't been much to say since Saturday."

"And did it occur to you that there's much we have to say, especially me?" She turned to face him fully. "Serkan and Aliana left without properly saying goodbye to you and you know how I usually feel about going to see your shitty parents yet we've been on opposite ends of a tunnel, drawing further and further apart."

A soft throb began in his temple as the carriage came to a stop. "Bella, please not now."

"And don't think I don't know you've been mostly indoors with Ayra all week. She even went out more than you did."

"Bella –"

"I'm surprised she isn't here with you. Wouldn't put it past her to be downstairs already, waiting for you to –"