The hallway smells faintly of rain, the kind that clings to concrete and metal. My umbrella drips against my thigh as I fumbled for her keys. She was tired, her mind halfway to the couch and the leftover Thai food in her fridge, when she pushed the door open and walked straight into it.
At first, the sound doesn't make sense, low laughter, a hushed gasp, the kind of murmur you only hear when someone is trying not to be heard. My eyes adjust to the dim, amber light spilling from her bedroom. I walk there.
And then I see them.
Hakeem's back arched over Gina, his hand tangled in her hair the way it used to be tangled in mine. Gina's face tilted toward him, eyes closed, lips parted, both so wrapped in each other they don't notice the door half-open, don't notice me frozen in the entryway like a damn extra in a play about betrayal.
The air feels heavier, humid with perfume and sweat. I recognize the scent, my own jasmine body mist clinging to Gina like a stolen skin. Something metallic catches in my mouth. I've bitten my tongue without realizing it. My pulse scatters in my ears, loud enough that I think maybe they'll hear it and turn.
Her brain split in two. One half screaming, Why? Why them? Why this way? The other whispering, Don't lose it. Don't let them see you break.
My fingers tighten around the umbrella handle, the ridges digging into my palm. I think of all the tiny moments that led here, the late nights Hakeem said he was working, the times Gina was "just passing by," the shared glances I'd chalked up to family closeness. Every fragment rearranges itself under the harsh light of truth, and it becomes impossible not to see it.
I step fully inside, the click of the door shutting sounding sharp, final.
Both heads snapped toward me.
Hakeem's eyes widen, shock, maybe guilt but he doesn't move. Gina's lips tremble into something between a smirk and a wince. I feel my own face stretch into a thin, polite smile, the kind you give strangers when you don't trust yourself to speak without bleeding.
Inside, I am nothing but noise—glass shattering, waves crashing, a thousand doors slamming. But outside, my voice comes out even, almost casual:
"Well," I say, dropping the umbrella against the wall. "Isn't this cozy?"
Hakeem finally pulls away, his face flushed. He opens his mouth, but the words catch in his throat. He looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, except the cookie jar is my life.
Gina, on the other hand, doesn't flinch. She sits up a little, pushing Hakeem's hand off her. Her gaze meets mine, cool and steady, and something ugly flickers behind her eyes.
"Zuri," Hakeem stammers, finally finding his voice. "It's… it's not what you think."
I raise an eyebrow, letting my gaze drift pointedly from him to Gina, then back again. "Oh, I think it is exactly what it looks like, Hakeem. But please, do enlighten me. Tell me how my fiancé is innocently entwined with my sister on our marital bed."
Gina scoffs, and that's when the calm breaks. Just a hairline fracture at first, but it's there. "Don't act so surprised, Zuri. You were always too busy for him. Always working, always… unavailable." She says the last word like it's a personal insult.
I let out a soft, humorless laugh. "So, that justifies this? Because I have a career? Because I'm not sitting around waiting for you two to decide when to get bored?"
My eyes narrow on Gina. "And you? My sister? Did you even consider the fact that I might want to marry him, or were you too busy thinking about what you wanted for once?" The last words come out a little sharper than I intended, a crack in the ice I'm desperately trying to maintain.
Hakeem runs a hand through his hair, his eyes darting between us like he's watching a tennis match from hell. "Guys, can we just calm down? We can talk about this…"
"No, Hakeem," I interrupt, my voice flat. "There's nothing to talk about. I'm just curious. How long has this been going on? Do I even want to know?"
I shift my gaze back to Gina, and something cold and hard settles in my chest. This isn't just betrayal; it's…surgical. Planned. I can see it in the way she holds herself, the subtle triumph in her eyes.
"Why don't you tell me, Gina? Enlighten me. I'm all ears." I force another smile, but it feels more like a sneer. "After all, family shares, right?"
Gina shrugs, a gesture so casual it makes my skin crawl. "It just happened," she says, as if she's talking about the weather. "You know how it is. One thing leads to another."
"No, Gina, I actually don't know how it is," I reply, my voice dangerously low. "Enlighten me. How does 'one thing' say, a simple hello lead to another, like, oh, I don't know…fucking my fiancé?"
Hakeem winces, as if I'm the one being crude. "Zuri, please! There's no need to…"
"Oh, but there is, Hakeem!" I snap, finally turning my full attention to him. "After all, I deserve an explanation, don't I? Or were you planning on just quietly slipping away with my sister while I was busy building a life for us?"
He opens his mouth, closes it. Opens it again. He looks like a fish gasping for air. "I… I don't know what to say."
"That's obvious," I say dryly. "Because anything you could say would be a lie or a pathetic excuse."
I take a step closer, invading his space. "So, let's talk logistics, shall we? Wedding invitations have already been sent. What do we tell everyone? Do we go with the classic 'irreconcilable differences,' or do we give them the unedited version: 'The groom was screwing the bride's sister?'"
Gina snorts. "Drama queen."
I ignore her, keeping my eyes locked on Hakeem. "And what about the apartment? The furniture? Did you two plan to just divvy up my life after you were done using it?"
He reaches out, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air, as if he wants to touch me but isn't sure he's allowed. "Zuri, I never meant to hurt you. I swear."
"Oh, but you did, Hakeem," I say softly, the words dripping with venom. "You managed to hurt me in a way I didn't even know was possible. You and Gina…you've managed to completely obliterate my trust, my faith in everything I thought was real."
I finally turn back to Gina, my voice hardening. "As for you, Gina…I honestly don't even know what to say. You were supposed to be my family. You were supposed to be someone I could trust."
I pause, letting the silence hang in the air. "But I guess family is just a word, isn't it? It doesn't actually mean anything."
I take a step back, a strange sense of calm washing over me. The ice is back in place, stronger than before.
"Well," I say, my voice regaining its detached coolness. "I believe I'll leave you two to…continue your cozy little interlude. Just try not to get too comfortable. After all," I add, a hint of a smile playing on my lips, "I still have a key."
I turn and walk out, leaving them standing there, a tableau of guilt and defiance. I grab my dripping umbrella, push open the door, and step back into the rain. The cool water is a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of betrayal. I don't know where I'm going, but I know I can't stay here. Not for another second.
I'm halfway down the hall when I hear it – Hakeem's voice, raw and urgent.
"Zuri! Wait, please!"
I keep walking, the rhythm of my footsteps echoing against the linoleum. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear the excuses, the justifications, the lies.
He catches up to me just as I reach the elevator, his hand reaching for my arm. I flinch away from his touch as if it burns.
"Zuri, please, just let me explain," he pleads, his eyes desperate. The guilt is etched into every line of his face, but it doesn't move me. Not anymore.
I turn to face him, my expression cool and unreadable. "Explain what, Hakeem? Explain how you managed to betray me in the most cliché way possible? Explain how you managed to completely disrespect our relationship, our future, everything we built together?"
He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "It wasn't like that. It just…happened. We didn't plan it."
"Oh, I see," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "So, you just accidentally stumbled into bed with my sister? How clumsy of you both."
The elevator doors open with a ding, but I don't move. I need to make this clear.
"Hakeem, there is no explanation that will make this okay. There is no excuse that will erase what you've done. You broke my trust. You broke my heart. And you did it with the one person who was supposed to be my family."
His voice cracks. "I'm so sorry, Zuri. I never wanted to hurt you."
"Well, congratulations, Hakeem," I say, my voice flat. "You succeeded. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a life to salvage."
I step into the elevator, hitting the "close door" button before he can say another word. As the doors slide shut, I catch a glimpse of his face - a mask of despair and regret. But it's too late. The moment for apologies is long gone.
As the elevator descends, I lean my head against the cool metal wall, closing my eyes. The tears I refused to shed in front of Hakeem and Gina start to prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away. I won't give them the satisfaction. I won't let them see me break.
I am Zuri. I am strong. And I will survive this.