In the Interlude

Chapter 39 - All of him, all of her

The next morning, Aïcha woke up to an empty bed. Tom had left very early for a day trip to Hever Castle, a little more than an hour outside of London. She smiled as she remembered the note she slipped into his trousers, hoping he would find it eventually before coming back in the evening.

Tom had a shooting and an interview scheduled with Vanessa, all part of promoting their upcoming movie. He had told Aïcha about this. He had also told her his co-star was going to attend the summer party on Saturday.

His co-star and ex-lover.

What she had suspected had been true. Tom had eventually told Aïcha about his past romance with Vanessa and that he had slept with her - once - while they were filming in Morocco. But Aïcha hadn't held any of this against Tom, and she had told him that.

What she hadn't told him was that she was not looking forward to seeing her in the flesh interacting with Tom. She had seen her once at Casablanca airport, although from a distance. A one-time that had been more than enough. She had looked unapproachable, inaccessible to the world around her, eyes only on Tom.

The office was still closed when Aïcha arrived at work before everyone else. She showed her badge to the security guard who opened the door for her then headed straight to her workstation not losing a second, planning to leave work earlier than usual. She wanted to surprise Tom with a Moroccan tajine for dinner and needed supplies that could only be found on Edgware road.

An hour later, as the office leapt into life, Aïcha felt like crawling out of her skin. She blinked a few times and cursed under her breath as she clicked on yet another link and scrolled past miles and miles of pictures of Vanessa and Tom on movie sets and red carpets and premieres, walking down the street, strolling in a park, having dinner at a restaurant. She clicked through old and more recent pictures of them together in Marrakech, Florence, London, Paris ...

She leaned back in her seat and let out a long shaky breath. The damn little gremlins. She had let them take over in her head. Look how pretty she is. Look how tall and slender she is. Look how graceful she is! Did you see how Tom looks at her? How he holds her hand?

Aïcha closed down the dozens of browser tabs and pop-up screens, locked her laptop computer and went to the bathroom. Looking into the mirror, she wet her hands and rubbed cold water on her face and neck. 

Enough.

She was a grown ass woman and didn't have time for jealousy over some Hollywood star taking over the wheels of her life. There were way more pressing matters to attend to.

In the early evening, as the sun set softly over the city, Aïcha climbed to the top of Primrose Hill. She put down her computer bag and groceries and sat on one of the benches enjoying the light breeze and the smell of warm summer grass.

Tom had called in the afternoon after he had found her surprise note. They were running a little late, but he would definitely be there for dinner, he had said. He couldn't wait to be back home.

Aïcha smiled recalling the phone call, his voice deep and warm. Even hundreds of miles apart, Tom always found the right words to make her feel like she was the only one in the world he cared about. She called her daughter and her parents and sat there until the night began to cast its shadow.

It wasn't before eleven that Tom stepped into his house. He had planned on being back earlier but that was not counting Vanessa insisting on taking the ride with him back to the city. She was staying in West London where he had to drop her first and politely, but firmly, decline one last drink in her hotel room.

Tom was tired but a sense of peace radiated from his body as soon he opened the door. "Aïcha?" he called out. No one answered. Leaving his jacket on the nearest chair, he entered the living room and found Aïcha sleeping on the couch, her dress tangled between her legs. He sat on the coffee table watching the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest and for a while, he was quiet.