He grins at me and I feel my heart warming up a little. It’s the first time I see him actually smile. And maybe it’s my fault for being so cold and mistrustful of them in the first place, but I missed this feeling. Making friends.And Ikram seems like a good guy. If Jack isindeedwilling to date, I’m sure they would have a great time—however long it lasts—together.
“You guys have been taking care of him for a week now. And I’m sorry about how I acted. I truly am,” I admit sadly. “But he’s my brother, and it’s taking me time to adjust to… Well, to all this. And thank you. For what you do.”
Evie leans forward and takes my hand in hers, squeezing with a kind smile.
“Well, hopefully,Iwon’t be doing this for much longer,” Ikram winks. “But if everything goes well, trust me to hang around and loom over Evie and whoever takes my place to make sure they take care of him as best they can.”
A little knot forms in my stomach when I see the hopeful smile on Ikram’s face. I clear my throat, searching for the right words.
“Ikram, I don’t want you to get your hopes up too much… Even if Jack and you end up dating, he’s…”
I freeze, the words unable to pass my lips. I see his throat bob and he leans closer too, his elbows digging in his thighs.
“I know. Trust me, I know. But I do believe that, it’s not because he won’t live a long life that he shouldn’t fill the rest of it with love and good times.”
I nod with a tight throat. “Yeah, I agree. It’s just that… Well the last person he dated dumped him about seven years ago when his condition got worse. And I really don’t want him to go through that again, because it was hard for him… Losing someone because the sex became a bit more difficult, it’s not fair.”
He stares at me for a moment, maybe turning around what I said. But his eyes are calm, kind, and confident.
“That person did not care enough,” he states calmly. “And I’m not going to promise undying love and marriage or whatever. In a perfect world, we’d go on a couple of dates and maybe we’d work out. Maybe we’d work out so well that we’d get married and grow old and get 2.5 kids and live in the suburbs. But It’s not a perfect world, so we take what we can. And if I can only have two months or two years with Jack, that would have to be good enough. Because I really like your brother. Because I see the loneliness, one that you can’t fill because he just misses the love and care of a partner. And I really want to be that partner for him.”
I feel the tear falling on my knee before I even realize it’s out of my eye. I don’t know Ikram very well yet—I don’t know him at all actually—but I feel the sincerity behind his words. How even if he knows it’s going to last a short time, he still wants it. To be a part of it all.
“Alright, enough sad talk,” Evie says, tapping the corners of her hazel eyes with a small napkin, “you guys are going to ruin my make-up.”
I chuckle, sniffing ungraciously. Ikram gives me one last small smile before sipping his own drink, leaning back against the back of the couch.
Evie lifts her glass towards me. “I believe we have something to pre-celebrate? Tell us about that interview you have tomorrow!”
I blush a little. “Oh, it’s no big deal,” I answer with a shrug, but welcoming the change of topic. “I used to work as a freelance forensic sketch artist. And I was good and I enjoyed it, so since I’m clearly being fired as a caretaker,” I cast them a playful narrowed eyes glance, “I thought it would be good to do something I like to occupy my empty days and earn money doing it.”
“I’m going to ignore the little sting and focus on telling you that, by the way, I love your drawings.” Evie says, picking a tapas from the large plate.
“Oh, so they are all from you?”
“Yeah. I like to invent stories about the people I spot, and name the sketches with weird names.”
I think about the women pushing the stroller with the kids running around in the park that I didn’t even properly name yet.
“Oh, I loved the one of the girls doing yoga and judging the person eating a snack on the side. What was it called again?” Ikram asks, turning to Evie.
“Oh, Hypothetical Hypocrites! Yes. I loved it too.”
“You remember the name?” I ask, cocking a brow in surprise.
“Of course, I thought it was hilarious. I laughed for the whole afternoon just thinking about it.”
“What’s sad about it, is that it’s true,” Ikram sighs, shaking his head but looking at her fondly. “She laughs for the barest things, it’s not even funny anymore.”
“Oh come on, you have to admit that the sketch and the title were amazing.”
“I never said it wasn’t.” He rolls his eyes at her, folding his arm over his chest after setting his now empty glass on the table.
They start bickering with one another and my eyes catch a familiar figure standing at the bar. My heart stutters.
Totally different clothes and vibe in a button down shirt and suit trousers in contrast to the old leather jacket and ripped jeans from the bar. But it’s him.
Hot Grumpy Guy.
