Zaddy

~Nariya Patel~

"Welcome to Lingua Libra!" I cheerfully greeted the couple entering the café. Swiftly, I guided them to their table where they settled in with their books, placing orders for their preferred grub. Balancing my part-time job with the current challenges in my life, I sought a semblance of normality. Despite Alexie's reservations about me working in my present circumstances, I felt compelled to maintain a thread of routine.

Upon explaining my situation to the manager, I wove an intricate but vague tale about a family matter. Generously, he offered me a free shift, understanding the difficulties of managing multiple responsibilities. Mr. Martinez encouraged me to take on as many days as I could and assured me of fair compensation, a supportive smile concealing untold heartbreaks.

Returning to attend to the tables, another beckoned me, and a genuine smile graced my lips. This table belonged to two vivacious girls, gradually becoming my friends—Rosela Todd, my coworker, and Esther, whom I had met in college.

"Done for the day?" Rosela inquired, and I served her espresso while presenting Esther with an ice cream sundae.

As it turned out, Esther was a regular at the café, and her presence was always a pleasant surprise when I first started working there. It became evident that both these girls shared a passion for books, and the three of us unintentionally formed a book club of sorts in the cozy ambiance of the book café.

While the plan with Alexie to go to St Elmo remained in motion, he requested some time to ensure that he could navigate any potential challenges and verify that what awaited us was not a perilous situation. In the meantime, I dedicated myself to my job, finding solace in the change of scenery and the companionship of newfound friends. This shift in my routine provided a much-needed touch of reality and support amid the challenges in my life.

My dreams, once hauntingly recurring, now transformed into a gentle flow like that of a brook, abruptly ending as the sun ascended. Dr. Natwar, my therapist, reassured me that whatever memories lay dormant within me would resurface when the right triggers manifested.

"Yup," I said, taking a seat with the girls while removing the apron from my waist. My eyes wandered curiously around the table, and I couldn't help but notice the duo giggling amongst themselves, a hidden message whispered between them. I sighed, shaking my head; their secret topic hadn't been much of a secret at all. From day one, I knew what they teased me about.

I vividly recalled the first day Alexie dropped me off for work. Rosela warmed up to me quickly, and when the shift ended, she noticed my pickup waiting. Before I could take my leave, she took me aside to inquire about the handsome man. Maybe it was written all over my face, but since then, they seized every opportunity to tease me about him.

"Spill it!" I murmured, another defeated sigh escaping my lips. I had shared a vague story with them, mentioning that Alexie was my guardian due to reasons I couldn't disclose, and we were sharing a space for the time being.

"Soooo," Esther began, exchanging a glance with her partner in crime, "You wouldn't admit it, but we've seen the look on your face when Mr. Bodyguard appears." I hadn't disclosed his name yet, uncertain if he would appreciate it, so they settled for the absurd nickname 'Mr. Bodyguard.'

I groaned and shook my head, realizing there was no stopping these girls. Surprisingly, though such behavior might offend others, I welcomed it. It brought a warm, giddy feeling to my swelling heart. While I appreciated the friendship with Mao, this banter with Rosela and Esther was a different kind of silly and fun. Just three girls, friends, gossiping and teasing about their crushes—it felt more normal for a teenager than being chased by international criminals for my life.

"Guys!" I said, biting my lips as the girls erupted in laughter. Apparently, my beet-red face was enough to send them shrieking in amusement.

"So, so, tell me, Nariya," Rosela almost whispered, as if what she was about to say was a well-kept secret meant only for this table, "in your opinion, Mr. Bodyguard must be a daddy, right!?"

Flustered, I grasped for words as the girls fell into another fit of laughter. Having had enough, I decided to take back my power. Grasping for a witty response, I declared, "Daddy?! You must be kidding me!" My voice, a bit on the louder end, but I didn't care as the place was almost empty. "He is at least a Zaddy!"

The comment was enough to shut the girls up, their lips sealing into a small line. However, something about their expressions didn't seem right. It was more like they were desperately trying to control their laughter while looking behind me.

I gulped in horror as my previous courage faltered. A small meow slipped through my lips as I asked, "He's behind me, ain't he?"

Slowly, they nodded in unison, their laughter evident in their eyes, mischief dancing in their gazes. On cue, both girls slipped from their respective seats, grabbing whatever they could in a frenzy as they moved about. Not before long, they shared words of farewell and encouragement.

"See you later, Nari," Esther said with a playful grin.

"All the best, girl," Rosela added, offering a supportive smile.

They hurried along their way, leaving behind the chiming echoes of laughter through the cafe halls. I gulped, feeling the lingering warmth on my back, and slowly turned around to offer my best save-my-face smile at him. His lips curled in amusement as I took in how my words had indeed been proved true. Draped in a long coat, a firm powder blue shirt, and dress pants, he looked nothing short of a Zaddy. Worse off, perhaps due to the current events, he had much less time to take care of himself, and a shadow of a beard had started to grow on his face.

My brain turned to mush, and my gaze moved to the side as I mechanically said, "I'll go grab my stuff." With that, I rushed towards the staff room to salvage any ounce of dignity I had left, although I highly doubted there was much. Once my nerves had calmed down, I changed from my uniform into a miniskirt with fleece leggings and a sweatshirt. Making my way towards the parking lot, I noticed Alexie was already waiting for me in the car, his head bobbing along to music. This was a rarity, especially considering recent events. For him, who had taken it upon himself to ensure my safety to perfection, seeing him somewhat relaxed assured me of something even more important—his health.

As I slid into the car, he looked at me and asked, "Your turn to make dinner. Still up for that, or wanna eat out?"

I shook my head as I pulled out a list of ingredients on my phone. "I'm thinking of making Chilli Chicken today with Chow mein, an Indo Chinese dish for dinner. Will that be okay for you?"

"Yeah, sounds good," he nodded.

"Okay, I need some ingredients for it," I said, shuffling through the ingredient list and making a mental checklist. "Do we have chicken and capsicum?"

"No, I think we finished it. But we do have some bell pepper."

"Okay, so chicken, and cornflour..." I determined, making a mental note.

Alexie took a turn at the intersection, parking the car at the mart. As he got out, I grabbed a trolley for our ingredients, still deep in thought about what else I could add for meal prep ahead. Amidst the chaos and excitement in my life, the simple act of sharing a home-cooked meal with Alexie provided a sense of serenity. Reflecting on it, I realized that perhaps this aspect of our unconventional co-living arrangement played a role in bringing us closer.

However, the closeness we shared might now be burdensome, especially with my unique situation and the sudden surge of emotions. Honestly, with so much time passing without any response or reaction from him, I wondered if he regarded my confession as nothing more than a childish teenage nag.

Lost in these thoughts, I spotted the cornflour box stacked on the highest rack. Determined that I could reach it with a bit of flexibility, I extended my toes and reached out. By inches, the hard exterior of the paper box brushed against my fingertips, but it wasn't enough to tip it into my grasp.

"Just a bit more," I grunted in effort, trying to compensate for those few inches.

Just as it felt beyond my reach, a breath left my lungs when I felt a familiar warmth caress my back. In my own thoughts, I had completely forgotten that the primary bearer of these thoughts walked mere steps behind me. Perhaps I was so deeply consumed by my own words, but throughout this entire shopping journey, not once did he call out to me. The tickling of his breath sent shivers down my spine when my heels came back firm on the ground.

He, too, seemed to be done with his errand when I slowly moved to face him. Our eyes, just a small distance apart, conveyed a mutual understanding of the emotions stirring within us. What did I feel? I had no words to describe it—just plain delight, my heart fluttering and an urgent desire to quench the rising heat within me.

Our eyes didn't dare blink, afraid of the consequences it might have on the touch of warmth that was ever so welcoming, ever so needed. In a rhythmic motion, his palms moved about, feather-like fingertips sending flutters of ragged shivers of cool delight into my core. My lips parted as my needs became apparent, and something shifted in his gaze, darkening with predatory urges.

A sudden cough broke our trance, and we snapped towards the sound, a horde of customers looking about. A blush rose on my cheeks as we hurried along the aisles to check out. Strapping in my seatbelt after getting into the car, the flush didn't dare die down. Neither of us attempted to break the embarrassing silence we shared, but something became apparent—what I felt for the man next to me, he felt too. Maybe not all of it, but some of it burned a hole in his stone-cold heart.

~Alexie Ivanov~ 

Since we had entered the mart, Nari seemed to be in her own trance, and I had no wish to break this train of thoughts of hers. Although I had a vague idea of what these could be, evident from today's banter that her friends shared with her at the cafe, I well realized that her feelings weren't a fleeting moment's sprout of a teenager. I acknowledged that although physically, this girl was nothing but a mere seventeen-year-old, through years of heartaches and mistrusted stabs, her words came from the depths of her true feelings.

In a slow progression, as much as I wished to keep her close to me, I had to make it clear to her that the man she wished for, no, the man she deserved—I am not that man. I could never repair the dam of broken trust she carried without further cracking it. I was a wreck, and a man like me could never deserve her.

Noticing the girl struggling, I waited for a bit not eager to break her self resolve but soon it became evident that she missed the box by mere inches. A smile was made to my face and without a single sinful thought I moved about to stand behind to help the struggling girl. Big mistake. For I had forgotten how she had felt, what her mere breath could do to me. A simple urge of kindness turned into a strutting heart marathon for me, and oh my would I have exploded when she turned her doe-like eyes foggy inching towards the mist of lust. Big mistake. I gulped feeling a rising hardness in my pants, the urge strong in her eyes captured my brain into a zombie-like frenzy as I touched her hot skin, my could she melt me in a glance. I wanted her, not just her body, her, but everything about her, from her eyes that could suck me into a spiraling maze to her soft breath that could rip my lungs apart. I wanted it all. And clearly, she wanted me too.

Had it not been for the reality-slapping coughs, I might have given in, right there and then, and I knew she would have obliged, consenting to my demise.

As we drove home, one thing was clear: no matter what I did to myself, the thought of not having her would kill me. I didn't know what sort of death awaited me—maybe a slow and unkind one that rots from the inside, or a quick one where I'd pray for forgiveness from the gods above. I couldn't bear the thought of not having Nariya in my life; however, some boundaries had to be made clear.

I might have wanted her, and she might have wanted me, but the fact didn't change that she was young and a novice to the complexities of love and lust. One day, perhaps ten years down the line, she might find someone better. I wanted that better for her, no matter what kind of death awaited me for that decision.