Twisted: Chapter 7

I wasn’t sure how I would feel after talking to Julian, but I expect it to make my anxiety skyrocket. Yet here I am, sitting in the vacant bedroom in the staff’s wing— the same one Julian found Aidan and I in the other night—more  nervous than I can ever remember being in my life.

Ever since I left his office at the Sultans headquarters, there’s been this gaping, pulsing in the center of my gut, one that sends tremors of anxiety through my limbs until my whole body shivers. You’d think that knowing someone was in my corner would calm me down, but Julian Faraci is about as calming as a fire alarm, so it’s having the opposite effect.

I can’t get rid of this feeling, and it’s bothering me.

Or maybe it’s because I haven’t talked to Aidan in days, despite all the times he’s called and texted me. If I’m honest, I was hoping that maybe if I ignored everything, it would just disappear on its own. I know avoiding problems never makes them disappear, but for some reason, I continue to test the theory, hoping that eventually I’ll be surprised and things will magically get better.

That I won’t feel like I’m drowning from everything I always want to say but don’t.

That I’ll be free to love Aidan openly and in public without disappointing everyone who matters.

That my father won’t be sick.

But life never works that way, despite all the times I’ve wished for it to be so.

So after I left Julian’s, disgusted with myself for letting him affect me the way he does, for letting him me, I texted Aidan and asked him to meet me here.

Julian and I never set a specific time for our meeting, but I want to make sure that I’ve cleared the air with Aidan beforehand.

United front and all that.

My leg jumps in a steady, nervous rhythm as I sit on the corner of the twin bed in the small room, the cashmere of my blue pantsuit gliding over my skin with the antsy movement. I can’t sit still. My eyes bounce from the blank tan wall opposite me to the small window on the right, where there’s a rickety old wooden chair that I’m not sure can actually hold weight, and then back to the blank wall again. Over and over, I repeat the track of my gaze, my mind moving over possible scenarios as quickly as my leg taps against the ground.

No one has occupied this room for years. Well, nobody except for Aidan and me when we started to sneak away, needing to be alone somewhere people wouldn’t see. There’s still a slight level of risk, but it’s an inconspicuous place, the very last room in the wing of the staff’s quarters, hidden away in the far corner.

I think about the first time we came here all those years ago, when I was a bumbling fifteen- year- old girl and just coming home for summer break.

And nobody ever did. At least no one until Julian.

I glance down at my lap, the phone screen jostling with my shaky legs. It’s open on my text conversation with Aidan. I cringe when I see the numerous strings of messages he’s sent over the past few days, all of them going unanswered. Then there’s my latest one asking him to meet me here. But he didn’t respond.

My stomach rolls and tightens, sending a shot of nausea up my throat.

I close my eyes and count back from ten, telling myself that everything is fine and there’s no reason to worry, repeating the phrase like a mantra. It’s a tactic my guidance counselor taught me when I was in primary school, back when I used to have anxiety attacks before tests, terrified I would fail and have to face my father’s disappointment.

To be honest, it’s never really worked. The only thing that’s ever calmed me enough to quiet the racing thoughts is my camera.

The door swings open, the sudden noise in the quiet space causing my eyes to shoot open and my heart to jump.

Aidan flashes me a wide grin, showcasing the dimples in his cheeks. He glances behind him into the hallway before closing the door and walking toward me. The hem of his purple shirt lifts slightly as he runs a hand through his bouncy brown hair, and when he reaches the bed, he sits down next to me and grasps my hand in his.

“Hey, princess.” His eyes are cast down as he rubs his thumb across the back of my knuckles. “Everything okay?”

Guilt makes my stomach cramp, and I squeeze my fingers around his. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you, I just…”

He winces at my words. “Avoiding? I was hoping you’d have a better excuse.”

And now it’s my eyes that won’t meet his, choosing to focus on our linked hands instead. “I talked to my father.”

Aidan sucks in a breath, his head snapping up. His gaze is searing the side of my face, and the hope I can permeating off him burns through my skin.

“You ?” he asks.

My mouth goes dry as I force the words out. “He wants me to get married.”

Aidan’s eyes darken and he drops my hand like it’s lava, running his fingers through his hair as he lets out a humorless chuckle. “I’m guessing not to me?”

I purse my lips, my eyes dipping again.

“So you tell him no.” His voice is firm. Like it’s just that simple. Yes or no. This or that. My father or him.

But life isn’t black and white, despite how much he might want it to be.

“Aidan…” I start, my voice breaking on his name. “It’s not that simple. It’s his dying wish.”

He laughs again and stands up, the mattress creaking from how fast the weight shifts. “So what, just fuck me then, right? Fuck everything we’ve talked about for years? Fuck I feel for you and all the promises we’ve made?”

His cheeks flush, and my chest throbs as I shake my head, trying to force the words I need to say off my tongue.

“I know you’re upset— ”

“Upset?” he interrupts. “You just told me you’re going to be marrying someone else, Yasmin. What the hell am I supposed to feel, gratitude?”

“I have a plan,” I mumble, my teeth sinking into the corner of my bottom lip, unease swimming through my veins.

I’m conflicted over what to do. I don’t to use Julian for anything, especially considering who he is and how his new favorite pastime is to apparently belittle me every chance he gets. He makes me so angry that my fingers shake, but I’m just going to have to put that aside and accept that he’s my only option.

“What?” Aidan leans forward. “Don’t get shy now, princess. Speak up so I can hear.”

I suck in a breath at his harsh tone, biting back the tears that are trying to bleed from my eyes. “I said I have a plan.”

He puffs out his cheeks, his hands resting on his hips as he leans his head back so he’s staring at the ceiling. “Let’s hear it then. What is it?”

I open my mouth to reply, but before I can, another voice cuts in.

“It’s me.”