Page 94 of Written By a Woman

It was a comedy, one of those mindless ones where the plot was thin, and the actors probably relied on improv for all of the dialogue.

Perfect.

“Just for the first little while, but if I’m being honest,” I tugged the DVD out of his hands and strutted for his bedroom door, throwing over my shoulder at him, “I loved learning this little secret of yours.”

Zaid hummed behind me, “Now I just need to learn some of yours to even the scales.”

He meant it playfully, probably not realizing that I currently did have a very big, very problematic secret of my own. A secret that involved him, much more than it should.

But I was a selfish, conflict-avoidant woman.

So, when Zaid quickly ushered us out of the room and asked me what kind of seasoning salt I preferred on my popcorn, I let the moment pass.

Even though I could have sat on his couch the rest of the night, spiraling about how he and I were doomed before we even had a chance to start, I refused to. Instead, I let my delusions take hold that evening. I watched the silly comedy, laughing with him, cuddling under the throw blanket, and actively pretending that my underwear wasn’t damp from our previous make-out in his bedroom. I sat with the knowledge that I would love nothing more than to try out committed monogamy with Zaid Ansara. How I wanted to earn this man’s love because there was no chance in hell that he didn’t love with his entire being.

I sat there on his couch, nurturing a small piece of myself that desperately, longingly, wanted this all to work out.

ChapterTwenty-One

SIGNE

Today Michelle hada handful of meetings with potential publishers.

Submissions had officially started, and I was going to be glued to my phone.

The first text I received from her said that the first publisher decided to pass on my story. I wasn’t too worked up about it, it would have been insane if the first publisher Michelle spoke to made an offer.

Perhaps it was the text from Zaid asking about our date tonight that made it easier for me to brush off the first rejection.

Later, Michelle texted me again that she still hadn’t had anyone bite on the story, and I felt a little discouraged.

However, I needed to accept one major fact.

Submissions had officially started on the story, and whether or not publishers were showing interest in it yet, I needed to tell Zaid. It was time to come clean.

I was determined to tell him on our date tonight, when it was just us and we weren’t in the office. So, when I reread his text and typed out a reply to confirm, I hesitated and ended up deleting the message, instead choosing to walk over to his office.

Seeing Zaid throughout the day always lifted my spirits and would help with the emotional rollercoaster that was submissions.

I forced a skip in my step, which is why the moment I halted to a stop felt a little cartoonish. Almost comedic. However, the moment that made me come to a stop was far from humorous. Perhaps I would be able to look back on it and find a little humor in dealing with the consequences of my actions. In the moment, though, all I could focus on was the nausea pooling in my stomach. The rock forming in the base of my throat made me wonder if I would stop breathing. If I would die from humiliation right then and there, feet outside of Zaid’s office, hiding to the side to shield my presence while still being able to observe my self-destruction taking place inside.

“…a romance novel,” Jacqueline said. The words made an icy panic shoot down my spine. My body froze and instinctively backed away a step or two before either of them could see me waiting outside of his office. Before I heard her say anything else, I knew what they were talking about. Deep down, my soul knew that my time had come.

I could see Zaid with his elbows on his desk, his fingertips rubbing at his temples as he exhaled a tired sigh. Jacqueline sat pencil straight in the chair on the other side of his desk, her back to me, with her iPad displaying a very familiar social media account.

My social media account.

While Zaid processed what she had just told him, she was swiping through screenshots of that account. Screenshots showing character art, my face, and the historical moment of Zaid walking through my live feed so long ago.

Dread consumed me. Anxiety and embarrassment heated my cheeks at the same time the lump in my throat grew.

“Did you tell Signe yet?” Zaid asked, his head still down while he pinched the bridge of his nose. I could see the anxiety rolling off of him in waves. Why was I so hurt by that? Why was I surprised to see him react in such a way to my secret?

“No, I came to you as soon as I saw her account,” Jacqueline had swiped again to what looked like a document, “I wanted to let you know what we can do so that you feel safe in the workplace—”

“Ya ilahi,” Zaid groaned, sitting up in his chair and scraping one of his hands down his face.

I quickly stepped behind the tall potted plant near his office, my breath barely escaping me. I felt like I was suffocating. My heart was racing in my chest. Ice was coating my veins, and my muscles all felt stiff. My stomach was tightening in knots which made me wonder if I was going to throw up.

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