Playing house
1159 Words
Two days later
Three convoys of black Lexus LX 600s rolled to a halt in front of a familiar duplex.
“I cannot believe I am back here.”
Mrs Sterling threw her head back, her laughter breaking into something bitter.
“We promised to take you back to your apartment after a week,” Zayn said, stepping out and helping his mother from the car.
“Clear,” the head of security signaled through his plugged earpiece.
“Tell your sister not to annoy me during my stay,” Mrs. Sterling warned, her sharp gaze settling on Zara, who stood beside her brother with her arms folded.
“You’re creatively misplacing your priorities, Mother,” Zara replied dryly, earning an eye roll.
After much protest, Mrs. Sterling was finally eased into a wheelchair.
“I am totally fine. I can walk,” she argued, gripping the armrests.
Zayn ignored it and pushed her through the entrance.
Inside, senior housekeepers stood in a straight line, hands folded neatly behind their backs.
“Welcome home, Madam. What a pleasure to have you back,” the senior housemaid said with a slight bow.
“Get my personal assistant and stylist,” Mrs. Sterling ordered.
“Oh, there’s no need for that.” The voice came too smoothly.
“Amira!”
“Yes, Mother.”
Amira dropped to her knees immediately, wrapping her arms around the wheelchair.
“Thank you for checking up on me at the hospital.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Amira continued quickly and eager. “I know you’d want your personal staff around, so I brought them here.”
“Welcome home, Mrs. Sterling.” The soft unsure voice cut through the room and
Zayn froze.
His fingers tightened on the wheelchair handles.Didn’t I lock that door?
“Why is she here?” Amira snapped, straightening slowly.Mrs. Sterling stared, her mouth opening, then closing again.
Rosa stood by the hallway, pale and small, swallowed by a wavy floral gown. She looked fragile and unsteady,like she didn’t belong anywhere near this house.
Something in Amira’s chest burned.
“Get back to your room. Now.”
Zayn’s voice was low, dangerous.
“I made soup for Mrs. Sterling,” Rosa stammered, clutching the tray tighter.
“Rosa. Now.”
Her husband’s disappointment send shivers down her spine. Hope he will not send her to a basement or cell again?
“Zayn,” Mrs. Sterling whispered, her hand trembling on the armrest. “Why is she here?”
“You’re worried about the wrong person, Mother,” Zara chuckled, already walking away. “Enjoy the show.”
“Mum, please calm down. You’re not fully recovered.”
“If you knew that,” she snapped, “why is she in my house?”
“I can explain.”
“Zayn,” Amira whispered, pain clogging her throat. “How much more do you intend to insult me?”
“I said I can explain.”
“First the marriage. Then the party. Then the media.” Her voice shook. “And now she’s living in your house. Do you think I’m a fool?”
Zayn stiffened,
“Media?” Mrs. Sterling’s eyes sharpened. “What media?”
“Well,” Amira said calmly, wiping her tears, “your darling James decided it was time to stab his friend in the back and leaked pictures from the wedding and the party.”
“No,” Zayn breathed.
“Mother, I’ll take my leave now.”
Amira reached for her pouch on the couch.
“I brought you lotus flowers,” she added softly. “So you can watch them bloom.”
She smiled through tears, then turned and walked out.
“Go after her!” Mrs. Sterling screamed.
“Mother, you don’t look well, ”
“Now!” She yelled and Zayn bolted out.
Outside, Amira was already in her car, slamming the door shut.
“Amira!” Zayn shouted as she sped off in her pink sport car. She didn’t stop.
Her tires screeched against the pavement as she accelerated.
Zayn jumped into his car and followed.
He flashed his headlights but she ignored him as tears clouded her eyes.
The more he honked, she sped up.
“Damn it,” he muttered, gripping the steering wheel as he swerved past traffic, finally overtaking her and forcing his car sideways in front of hers.
This made her slammed her brakes and silence took over.
Amira stepped out first, arms crossed, eyes blazing in her white silk gown.
“You were never supposed to tell Mum about that!” Zayn fired.
“You’re lucky I didn’t tell her how much of a rascal you were at the party!” She retorted in the middle of the lone road.
“Why are you so inconsiderate?”
She laughed, sharp and broken, “Me? Inconsiderate? Zayn Sterling, you proposed to me, went behind my back to marry a worthless girl, and I’m the inconsiderate one?”
“You didn’t have to mention James!” he snapped. “I didn’t want this to affect our families.”
“The only family you never cared about is mine,” she shot back. “After everything we did for you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, softer now. “I really am.”
“Are you?”
“Trust me.”
She shook her head. “That’s impossible now. I trusted you. You told me she was James’.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why is she in the Sterling home?” Amira demanded. “That is not her place.”
“You know how much Zeror meant to me.”
“Don’t start.”
“I need closure,” he said, voice cracking.
“Dad’s drowning himself in drugs. Mum wouldn’t stay in the house. Zara cuts herself every night—”
Seeing Zayn break down her heart softened a bit, “And you?” she asked quietly.
“I’m lost,” he admitted. “I believe everything I am should have been him. I need Rosa to give us closure.”
“You think she will?” Amira scoffed.
“She’s making soup and playing house in your home.”
“James said she lost her memory ten years ago.”
“And you believe him?” She stepped closer. “The same man who sold your life to the media?”
“I don’t think it was him.” Zayn confessed.
“The transaction receipt has his name on it, damn it! ” she snapped and silence fell.
Finally, Zayn whispered, “Can you stay with me while I figure this out?"
Amira stared at him for a long moment.
Then her phone buzzed and she looked down.
Her face drained of color. Slowly, she raised her eyes back to Zayn.
“Zayn,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper,
“The business board wants a meeting with you.”
- Writer
