Only for You

13: Mirror

As Fatima stepped out of the salon, she ran a hand through her freshly dyed black hair, feeling its softness and the weight of the color shift. She spotted Zac sitting on a bench, waiting patiently, bags from their shopping spree stacked by his side. The sight of him watching her approach, his eyes lighting up with a grin, sent a flutter through her, one she'd been stubbornly trying to ignore.

"You look different," he said as he stood up, picking up the bags. "I like it."

She smirked, trying to shrug off the compliment. "The blonde was starting to make me look a little pale anyway," she replied, grimacing.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You look good either way," he said, easily hefting all the bags. She watched him, mildly amazed at how casually he managed everything while she walked beside him, carrying only her own bag. For a moment, she wanted to offer to take a few bags, but something in his easy confidence told her he wouldn't let her.

They made their way back to the hotel, weaving through the bustling Parisian streets, and Fatima couldn't help but let herself get swept up in the atmosphere of the city and Zac's presence. Despite her cautious heart, she was beginning to feel herself soften, to appreciate his gestures of spoiling her, even if a small part of her nagged to keep her guard up.

Once inside the room, Zac set down the bags by the wardrobe and took out his phone. "I'll make us a reservation for eight at Passioné," he announced.

Fatima simply nodded, trying not to make it obvious that she was watching him from the corner of her eye. Checking her own phone, she saw the time: 5:47 p.m. She had a little over two hours before they'd need to leave.

"I'm gonna shower," Zac said, putting his phone down after making the reservation.

"Okay," she replied, more focused on her screen as she flicked through her notifications. She noticed a missed call from her mother, Fiona, who had been calling more frequently than usual. Deciding she wasn't in the mood for another argument, she declined the call. Her mother called back, and Fatima let it ring out before pressing decline again.

Before she could dwell on it, a message popped up in her group chat with her girls.

Toni: Where is everybody at?

Brandy: Home.

Nyla: Gym.

Toni: Fatima? 🤔

Feeling a spark of mischief, she stepped out onto the balcony. She lifted her phone to capture the view, the cityscape shimmering under the late afternoon sun, and the Eiffel Tower in the distance. She snapped a photo, then sent it to the group chat.

Almost immediately, the chat exploded with questions.

Toni: Girl, WHAT!

Nyla: Paris?? Since when?!

Brandy: Who you there with? 👀

Fatima chuckled, watching the messages roll in before locking her phone. The sound of the shower filled her ears, mixing with the faint hum of the city below. The view was beautiful, and for a moment, she allowed herself to enjoy it. The thrill of being here, the surprise of it all—it was exhilarating. But the unfamiliar excitement also scared her a little.

Fatima felt a surge of excitement rush through her, a thrill that she hadn't allowed herself to indulge in years. She took a deep breath, glancing around the hotel room, the sound of Zac's shower muffled through the closed bathroom door. This was new territory, but something about him-about this whole adventure-made her want to push past the walls she'd so carefully built. She stepped into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind her, feeling a flutter of nerves mixed with excitement.