Page 93 of Not the Plan

Her heart was going to explode. The pain of abandonment was written all over his face. She couldn’t imagine the amount of courage it had taken for him to do all of this for her, in spite of the pain or the fear that she might reject him like Laila had. Unless the way that he felt about her made it worth the risk. She gulpeddown the fear that was lodged in her throat of losing control over her own life. Squeezing his hand, she leaned in close.

“Thank you, Karim,” she whispered, then closed the space between them and kissed him deep, not caring that Brad got to witness it all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Karim

The closer they got to the restaurant, the tighter her grip on his hand became. Her breathing, shallower. He ached to get her out of that stress, back to the sweet, relaxed state she’d been in at the hotel. He’d never seen her so intimidated. Not even in negotiations with the governor’s office. It broke his heart that this is what she went through going to a dinner with family.

Brad turned the car into the parking lot.

“Oh God.” Isadora sighed. “She’s waiting for us out front.”

As Brad pulled them up to the entrance, the headlights flashed across a short, round, impatient-looking Black woman standing beside the door with her hands on her hips. She scanned the parking lot but didn’t look twice at the car they were in.

“That’s your mother?” Karim asked.

“Yep. That’s her.” Isadora was checking her hair and makeup in a hand mirror.

“You look perfect, Isa,” he said as Brad parked and got out to open his door.

“Maybe in your eyes.” Everything about her shrank. Her smile was sadder, her shoulders hunched over. Even the light in her eyes diminished.

He stepped out of the car and faced Isadora’s mother. She glanced in his direction but looked through him. After buttoning his jacket, he held his hand out to the woman he loved.

“Come on, beautiful,” he whispered to her as she stood next to him. “We got this.”

Her eyes lit up. “We?”

“Yeah. You and me.” He laced his fingers with hers and they approached her mother together. She glanced at them and did a double take, looking at the car, Karim, and then Isadora.

“Hello, Mo—”

“Mybaby!” She threw her arms open wide and closed the distance between them. “Mydarling!” She clasped Isadora in a bear hug, never taking her eyes off Karim. The hug looked uncomfortable for both parties. When her mother ended it, Isadora stood straight again at his side, and he placed his hand on the small of her back.

“Mother, I’d like to introduce Karim.” She turned to him. “Karim, this is my mother.”

“Mrs. Maris,” he said, putting out his hand. “It is so nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you too, Karim. Come on you two. I want to introduce Karim to everyone.” Without a second look at Isadora, her mother linked her arm in Karim’s and tried to pull him into the restaurant.

“Let me get the door, Mrs. Maris,” he said, freeing himself and taking two quick steps to reach the door first. He held it open for her, and for Isadora, taking her hand once they were inside. “You and me,” he whispered to her temple. She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand.

“We got this,” she whispered back.

—

Mrs. Maris took great pride in introducing Karim to every family member in the restaurant. He didn’t mind being introduced as “Isadora’s boyfriend, the lawyer” over and over, but it did bother him that Isadora’s mother kept trying to separate them. When a cousin stood up to give Isadora a hug, her mother tried to pull Karim away to meet the next person. When an aunt waved from the other end of the table, she tried to send Isadora over on herown to say hello. He wasn’t about to lose physical contact with Isa. Khalil had stressed the importance of touching her, showing her he was with her at all times. A lot of her family was happy to see her, though a few exchanged confused glances, when they looked at her, not at him. But her mother’s attitude about Isadora’s career irritated him more than he could conceal. When an uncle asked Isadora how work was going, her mother tried to get between Karim and Isadora as she implied Isadora’s work wasn’t important.

Remembering her tears and the ludicrous idea that she could be a disappointment, he decided to make sure everyone knew she wasn’t. Once they’d been seated and the meal began, he cleared his throat.

“Mrs. Maris,” he said, making his voice carry. “You must be terribly proud of Isadora.”

“Um…why yes, of course.”

“You know”—he made eye contact with the uncle who’d asked about work—“it’s due to Isadora’s hard work and strategy that her boss will likely become a U.S. congressman in the next couple of years.”

“Is that so?” the uncle said. “Izzy, your mom said you were barely making it as an assistant secretary.”

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