Waves of Question
"So, you fell for her at first sight?"
Kais leaned forward, curiosity gleaming in his eyes as he took a slow sip of the tea Kennedy had prepared. The aroma of cardamom and honey curled in the air between us, soft and nostalgic. The unexpected presence of Kennedy, who had insisted on staying to "just listen," filled the room with a motherly calm that countered the tension.
"I won't intrude, Mr. Ardel," she said, placing a tray of tea and biscuits on the glass table. "I'm only here to hear the story, that's all."
Her voice faded into the background as Kais spoke again. "So? Was it love at first sight?"
I poured two spoonfuls of sugar into my cup, watching the crystals sink and melt into the amber swirl. "No," I said finally, stirring slowly. "I didn't fall for her at first sight. Not at all. But she… enchanted me. She was different. She saw my art — not the man behind it."
Kais smiled faintly, intrigued. "And what was it about her that did that? The enchantment, I mean."
I took a sip before answering, the tea warm and grounding. "She looked at my work like it was alive," I murmured. "As if she saw what I was trying to say even when I didn't have the words for it. No pretense, no expectations. Just… truth."
He nodded, thoughtful. "You talk about her as if she still lives in your sentences."
"Maybe she does," I said quietly. The room fell silent for a heartbeat.
Then Kais shifted, his tone sharpening. "Why didn't Michael defend you that day — with your dad? You were right about wanting to walk away. Why didn't he say anything?"
I leaned back against the velvet sofa, eyes tracing the soft pattern of light spilling through the tall windows of my penthouse. "Because Michael never defended people," I said, half-smiling. "He understood them. And when you truly understand someone, you don't rush to shield them — you wait. You listen. You try to see both sides."
Kais frowned slightly. "So you think he was right?"
"I think he knew I needed to fight my father on my own," I said. "Michael saw all of us — my dad's pride, my defiance — and he balanced it in silence. He never added to the noise. He carried it."
There was a pause. Kais gave a slow nod, and I could tell my answer pleased him. But before he could ask another question, the doorbell rang, cutting through the moment.
Kennedy wiped her hands on her apron and stood. "I'll get it," she said softly, disappearing toward the entryway.
The sound of the door opening was followed by a burst of sunlight and a familiar, vibrant voice. "Kais! Aubrey!"
Hayat swept in like a breeze, her energy shifting the air in the room. Her hair caught the light, her smile too bright for a morning this quiet. She plopped herself down beside Kais with an ease that only siblings possess.
Kais groaned audibly. "What are you doing here, Hayat?" His tone was flat, but the muscle in his jaw twitched.
She shot him a look that could cut glass. "Oh, don't be dramatic. I didn't see your name engraved on the door."
Their bickering carried the same rhythm it always had — sharp, quick, and impossible to ignore. I hid a small smile behind my teacup as their verbal sparring continued.
"For God's sake," Kais muttered, "must you appear everywhere I am?"
Hayat's grin widened. "Someone has to make sure you don't ruin every room you enter."
Kais looked ready to throw her out the window. "I swear—"
"Alright," I interrupted, voice calm but firm. "No one's dying today, please."
The room quieted for a moment, though their glares kept trading fire. Kennedy tried to stifle a laugh from the kitchen.
Then Hayat tilted her head, smirking. "Oh, I know what's got you like this." She leaned toward me conspiratorially. "My dear brother is mad because—for the first time in his life—a girl rejected him."
I nearly choked on my tea. Kais's eyes went dark, storm brewing in their depths. "Hayat," he hissed, "I will end you."
"Stop being dramatic," she said with a laugh, though I could tell she was enjoying herself far too much.
I chuckled softly, unable to help it. "Someone rejected Kais Ferdous?" I asked, raising a brow in mock disbelief. "Now that's a story I'd pay to see written."
Hayat clasped her hands, as if struck by divine inspiration. "Maybe we should introduce her to you, Aubrey."
The room stilled.Even the ticking of the clock seemed to pause.
Kais's head snapped toward her, and Hayat froze — realization dawning across her face. "Oh God—Aubrey, I didn't mean— I'm sorry—"
I smiled faintly, not out of amusement but to keep the heaviness from spilling over. "Introduce her to me?" I said lightly, swirling the tea in my cup. "I think I've had enough heartbreak for a lifetime."
The words were soft — almost playful — but they hung in the air like smoke.Hayat's shoulders relaxed a little, though her eyes shimmered with guilt. She knew. They all did.
Kais exhaled quietly, setting his cup down. No one spoke. The sunlight through the window dimmed, the silence pressing in around us.
Finally, I looked up, meeting both their eyes with a calm smile. "Don't look at me like that," I said gently. "She's still here. Just not where you can see her."
Kennedy, standing by the counter, whispered, "Mr. Ardel…" but trailed off, unsure what to say.
The silence that followed wasn't heavy — it was reverent.Every person in the room knew the truth:even after all these years, I was still hers.