The likelihood of them being friends was a longshot, but maybe one day it wouldn't be a stretch for the two to be in the same room without there being animosity. It wasn't lost on me that, had it not been for Marco, there was no telling what would've happened to Naseem last night. An accident where he hurt himself or someone else, or it could've been much worse than that.
But this wasn't Naseem. This behavior wasn't like him at all.
"Mind if I sit?" I asked, taking slow steps toward the bed.
Those sad eyes that had looked into mine a moment ago, turned away, staring straight ahead now. Naseem gestured toward the spot beside him as an invitation.
I eased down and fastened my hands together in my lap, not really knowing where to start, but knowing something had to be said.
"I'll uh … I'll be out of your hair in a few. The cab I called should be here soon," he said flatly, making it clear that he at least remembered some of what transpired the night before, enough to know his keys and his car weren't here.
"There's no rush," I assured him, because there wasn't one. "You've always been welcome here, Naseem. You know that and that won't ever change."
He nodded, but his expression told me he didn't believe a word that just left my mouth. He was still cold, still closed off, and we'd never get anywhere like that. Not if he didn't stop blocking me out.
The feel of my hand in his brought his eyes my way.
"What's going on with you?" I asked, and I was sure he knew what I meant. Even in college, he didn't really drink and when he did, it was maybe one beer just for the sake of being sociable. Naseem wasn't the kind of guy to go to bars and get wasted by himself.
A deep breath left his lips and my hand squeezed a little when he decided to reciprocate the gesture. However, words didn't come right away. They were drowned out by whatever he was dealing with, whatever he was carrying.
"I heard from my mother yesterday afternoon," he began. "My father … he passed away night before last … in his sleep."
I sucked in a breath and felt my stomach sink with Naseem's statement. As someone who knows the pain of losing a parent, my heart went out to him.
"My flight leaves out tonight," he added.
"Naseem … I'm so sorry. I had no idea his health had taken a turn." The last I heard, his father had been doing much better. It came to mind that I would've been up to speed had the line of communication between us not been severed. It's things like this that make it so necessary for people who care about one another to stay in contact. Had it not been for Naseem's episode last night, I might not have known of his loss for months.
"I'm okay, I just … It hit me hard," he said, doing his best to mask the emotion hidden just below the surface. I only knew this because I knew him.
Being in the States without his parents had always been hard. There was a considerable amount of guilt for having so many miles separating him from the pair as they aged, but they were adamant about Naseem staying right where he was and flourishing. And he'd done that. He was successful because his parents pushed him to persevere.
As his father's only son, Naseem took great pride in the way his dad doted on his accomplishments, but that guilt never went away. It faded some, but never fully disappeared. So now, as he mourned the loss of the only man he looked up to, I imagined it weighed on him heavily.
I came in here intending to eventually speak about our disagreement, but that all seemed unnecessary now. As I continued to hold his hand, I was incredibly aware of how petty our falling out had been in the big scheme of things. Life was too short. We'd talk about all the details later. For now, all Naseem needed to know was that I was here for him.
"Anything you need, Naseem … Just say the word."
He nodded and his free hand rose to his face. Following his movement, I watched him swipe his index finger beneath his eye to collect a tear. In all the years I'd known him, I'd never seen him cry and the sight of it broke my heart.
"I appreciate that," he answered, his voice still even.
A sound in the hall caused both Naseem's and my gazes to shift that way, acknowledging that we weren't alone in the house. Marco's heavy footsteps moved down the stairs. A moment of awkwardness passed between Naseem and I as we were both made aware of the reason we'd fallen out two months ago. Not that either of us had forgotten, but hearing Marco was just a reminder, pulling us out of this moment where that falling out had almost been forgotten.
Naseem's head lowered and I knew he was now struggling with more than just his recent loss. Not that our issues even came close to measuring up, but I saw the moment his thoughts shifted back to us-the version of ourselves that hadn't gotten along all that well lately.
The words, "I owe you an apology," spoken in his deep tenor brought my eyes to him. While, yes, I came in here thinking we'd hash out our disagreement, that was before I knew about his dad.
"You don't have to apologize. We can talk about this some other time. Right now you just-"
"No, I'd rather get this out of the way," he cut in, still clutching my hand, but staring at the ground instead of me. "I'll be gone for a few weeks and I don't think either one of us wants this hanging over our heads any longer than it already has. Besides, if we talk about it now," he added, "I might actually have a friend waiting for me when I return."
That part made me smile. In his own way, he was admitting that he missed me like I missed him.
His eyes fluttered toward the ceiling as he pulled his words together.
"I still stand behind my claim: everything I said was definitely coming from a place of genuine concern for your wellbeing," he started, but then there was more. "However, being honest, you were right, too. There was definitely some jealousy there that I hadn't dealt with," he confessed. "It took me a few days to admit that to myself and practically two months to admit it to you, but … I'm owning up to that." There was a pause and I waited for the last of his words. "I'm owning up to that because I refuse to let my ego be the cause of me losing you completely."
A smile made my cheeks tighten.
"You've been honest and up front with me from the beginning. About everything," he said, and I had been. Anything I didn't say was because I didn't want to rub salt in an open wound, not because I had anything to hide. "I appreciate that, although I'm sure it wasn't easy."
Telling him I was expecting was one of the hardest things I had to do in my entire life, so he wasn't wrong there. At the time, my feelings for him far outweighed anything I even thought possible for Marco, so my motives were pure. All I wanted was to spare Naseem because I knew, one way or another, things would become complicated.
So much relief came over me realizing he now understood that.
"Brynn." I'd never heard my name spoken with such conviction. "If I could take back every ugly thing I said to you, I would. I'd never-"
"Apology accepted," I replied, cutting him off because I was all too willing to let bygones be bygones.
I sat quietly after that, just thinking everything over, but then Naseem's voice pierced the silence when he spoke again. "Did he bring me here because you told him to?" he asked. I could see why he would assume such a thing-maybe imagining that Marco put in a call to me when he saw him at the bar and I instructed him that this would be the safest place for him. However, that wasn't the case.
"No, he brought you here because he's a good man," I said back, feeling Naseem's palm warm against mine. "I didn't even know you were with him until he showed up on my doorstep. Apparently, before that, he tried to take you home, but your keys weren't on you."
He nodded, maybe remembering some of what I was saying.
Long, tan fingers ran through his hair and it settled just above his shoulders when he let it go. There was something in his expression that told me he had more to say, but those words never came. The sound of a horn honking just outside in my driveway meant his ride had arrived.
We stood at the same time and I was all smiles when he initiated a hug between us-an embrace filled with warmth, forgiveness, and love between friends.
After grabbing his wallet and phone from the nightstand, Naseem followed me down to the first floor. There was a brief moment of uncertainty as a set of broad shoulders clad in a ribbed tank turned toward Naseem and I. No longer gazing out my living room window, Marco's hands were hidden in the pockets of his dark jeans as his eyes settled on me first and then lifted to find Naseem's. The two stared at one another with equal intensity, but the anxiety that threatened to ruin the morning's positive vibe soon disappeared.