My mother overlooked most of the charity work for my father but, now she refuses to participate. It’s her own way of showing me that I need a wife and stressing how Celia would be perfect for the job. Her rebellion is petty and shows how little she knows me. I hate my hand being forced and I’ve never shied from working hard. That is purely the reason why I’ve been so successful with little to no help from my family.

Later in the evening, I step outside my room and look at the shut door of Aaliya’s room. For the first time in months, I’ve experienced such an instant connection to another person. And the more time I spend with her, the more I appreciate how absolutely perfect she is. She’s smart, beautiful, intelligent and perceptive as hell. Something is evolving between us and my soul is screaming at me not to put an end to it before exploring the possibilities. But I have to end it. I have to keep away from her. I cannot bring her into my life no matter how much I want her. Thinking about the shooting reminds me of how Mike saved me. Had he not reacted when he did, I would’ve been dead. And so, until I have the answers I seek, I have to stay away from her.

A heavy sigh escapes my mouth.

Still, she’s a guest at my house and for the time we’re stuck here, I have to be a gracious host. With that thought in mind, I walk towards her room to check if she’s ready to step down. Just when I raise my hand to knock, Aaliya rushes outside and bangs right into me. I hold her arms to stop her from falling and steady her. A loose white sweater dwarfs her petite frame and a pair of black leggings curve down her legs to end at flat shoes. Her dark hair is slightly wet and flows behind her. Her face is devoid of any makeup and yet she outshines any woman I know.

Her eyes flick over me, taking me in. I’ve changed into denims and a blue sweater, thankful that the clothes I found in my room still fit me well. She blushes as her gaze meets mine.