Only for You

7: Reflections

Fatima walked over to her closet and opened it, running her fingers along the clothes hanging there. Designer labels, hand-picked pieces for a life that, on the surface, seemed perfect. She could see herself at Carbone later, the two of them sitting across from each other, talking about wedding plans, his business trip, her work. On paper, it looked flawless—picture-perfect.

She slipped into a stunning, silky yellow gown that clung to her frame in all the right places. The fabric shimmered in the soft light of her bedroom, and the asymmetrical strap added a modern, chic touch to the timeless silhouette. It hugged her hips before gently flaring out at the bottom, allowing for elegant movement. Simple but undeniably elegant. As she stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps and smoothing the fabric over her hips, she couldn't deny that she looked beautiful, but the reflection staring back at her felt distant. Almost like she was watching someone else prepare for this evening.

Her phone suddenly rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. The screen lit up with a random New York number: (917) 555-0192. She frowned, confused by the unfamiliar caller.

Fatima hesitated for a moment before picking up the phone and answering, "Hello, this is Fatima."

"Hey, Fatima. It's Zac," came the voice on the other end.

She froze, her heart skipping a beat. Zac?

Her voice was sharp as she immediately responded, "What are you doing? Where did you get my number? Are you stalking me?" She groaned in frustration, glancing nervously towards the door to make sure Anthony wasn't within earshot.

Zac's voice, laced with confusion, came through the line. "No—what? I just—"

"You've officially lost your damn mind. Don't call me again!" she snapped, her pulse racing. Before he could respond, she hung up the call abruptly, the tension in her shoulders tight and heavy.

Without thinking twice, Fatima quickly blocked his number and tossed the phone onto the bed. She stared at it for a moment, shaking her head. What the hell was he thinking?

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. Tonight was about Anthony. She couldn't let Zac's sudden intrusion derail her focus. She needed to push those thoughts—those feelings—away, at least for now.

Fatima did her makeup before she gave herself one last look in the mirror, smoothing the gown over her hips again before grabbing her phone and slipping it into her clutch and heading downstairs to meet Anthony.

Anthony was already by the door, his phone in hand, scrolling through something. When he looked up and saw her, his eyes lit up with genuine admiration. "Damn, baby, you look amazing," he said, a wide smile spreading across his face as he walked over to her.

Fatima returned his smile, but the warmth didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thanks, babe," she replied, leaning in for a quick kiss. Her mind was elsewhere—stuck on that phone call, on Zac, and the lingering guilt she couldn't quite shake off.

"You ready to go?" Anthony asked, holding out his hand for her, the perfect picture of a devoted fiancé.

Fatima nodded, slipping her hand into his. "Yeah, let's go," she said, her voice calm, almost too controlled. They stepped out into the warm New York evening, the city buzzing around them, but for Fatima, the world felt eerily quiet.

As they walked toward his car, Anthony kept talking—something about his upcoming trip to Australia, how excited he was for them to start planning the wedding once he got back—but her mind barely registered the words. Instead, there was this gnawing pit of unease settling in her stomach. She could feel it, growing heavier with every step, every word, every smile she forced.