Only for You

33: Fractured Ties

Fatima pulls away and sighs. "I'm gonna go pack," she says.

"Okay. I'll be down here waiting for you," Zac replies.

She turns toward the stairs, and as she walks up, Zac holds onto her hand until the distance between them forces him to let go. He watches her disappear before glancing around the space. He'd been here before, but never really took the time to take in everything.

The house was white—clean, sophisticated—just like Fatima. A few colors were scattered throughout, but white was the dominant shade. He moves into the living room, his eyes landing on the pictures on the wall.

One of them catches his attention—Fatima's graduation picture. He studies it for a moment. She looked beautiful, of course, but there was something in her eyes. The eyes never lie... It was a big day, but she didn't look as eager or happy as someone should on a day like that.

Next to it, her Master of Design degree hangs framed, a testament to how much she had achieved. He smiles, shaking his head slightly. She really had done everything she set out to do.

Just then, the front door opens and closes, followed by a soft sigh.

Zac turns toward the sound, stepping into the doorway just as Fiona sets her bag down near the entrance. She exhales and shrugs off her coat before turning—and freezing when she sees him.

Her sharp eyes narrow slightly, scanning him as if assessing why he's here. "Zachary."

"Ms. Wilson," Zac replies evenly.

Fiona's eyes flick toward the stairs before returning to him. "Fatima's here?"

"Yeah, she's upstairs packing."

"Packing for what?" Fiona asks sternly, her sharp eyes fixed on Zac.

Zac sighs. "She's spending the night at my place—"

"For what?" Fiona snaps, cutting him off.

Zac clenches his jaw. "Because we're in a relationship—"

"Ma! Don't start, please," Fatima interrupts, her voice exasperated as she comes down the stairs, a Louis Vuitton duffle slung over her shoulder.

Fiona scoffs, crossing her arms. "You're leaving me—"

Fatima blinks, confusion flashing across her face. "You haven't been here in two weeks! Aren't you moved in with Oliver?"

"I am. But I came to check up on you!" Fiona snaps. "Who's supposed to watch my house?"

Fatima stares at her in disbelief. "Ma. You cannot be serious right now."

Fiona tilts her chin up. "You're really choosing him over me?"

Zac frowns, exchanging a glance with Fatima. He knew their relationship was rocky, but now he was getting a front-row seat to Fiona's manipulative antics.

"Ma—"

"Just like you left Anthony for him!" Fiona barrels on. "Just like how disrespectful you two got at dinner. Oliver was doing you two a favor—"

"Excuse me?" Fatima and Zac say in unison.

Fiona huffs, clearly riled up now. "Oliver was trying to bring this family together, and you two sat there acting like rebellious teenagers—"

Fatima's grip tightens on the strap of her duffle. "Ma, are you hearing yourself? Oliver didn't bring us together—he ambushed us. And so did you."

Fiona's mouth opens, but Zac cuts in, his voice tight but controlled. "With all due respect, Fiona, Fatima is a grown woman. She doesn't need permission to spend the night with me."