#amadiya

Lidiya wasn’t particularly surprised when the car stopped - she’d been meaning to get the oil changed as soon as possible. It must’ve slipped her mind, in the end. Perhaps calling a tow truck would be the best course of action, but it wouldn’t hurt to look for herself to see what the damage was. She’d told her husband time and time again that she hadn’t needed another car - especially not a Jeep, what a waste of gas. It was a car that she kept exclusively in Florida, it was the least of her favorites.

Stepping out of her car, she lifts the hood, surveying the damage. At first glance, there doesn’t seem to be much wrong - she even checks the oil - it’s a fine color, even with it being so low. Under her breath, she mutters, sliding halfway into her seat to try and start the car again.

It buffers. But does not start.

“You’re kidding.”

She tries again. Nothing.

Again - it doesn’t even try to start this time. Only a click.

With that, she leans back into her seat, swiping a hand through her hair. The air is so humid, she’s lucky to have worn shorts. She makes an attempt to round the car one more time, if anything - it could be a faulty with the battery. She’s learned over the years, no matter how new the car may be, there can always be a problem.

As she was about to set to work, she hears another set of tires along the gravel. Lidiya thinks whoever it is will pass by, it’s not a busy street, but they have no reason to stay. The dark tinted window rolls down, “Hey.” It’s a man. Around his thirties. He smiles at Lidiya in a friendly, but appraising way. When she beams back, his smile becomes even wider, “Did you need help?”

No. She does not.

“Ah, nope.” She keeps her smile, white teeth and all aimed at him, using her fingers to push back blonde hair. It’s nearly white in the sun. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

Of course, of course - he doesn’t listen. He makes a bit of a face, eyeing her for a few seconds, mostly her legs, “I’ll just take a quick look at it.” And then he proceeds to park in front of her car. Lidiya barely resists the urge to roll her eyes, smiling falling and muttering underneath her breath again.

“So, let’s see what we got,” he comes up behind her - and her smile is back, matching his as he rolls up his sleeves. He has an expensive watch on, she notices, and the type of car you use to show off. Lidiya isn’t really surprised, she was in the middle of passing by a rather nice neighborhood when her car had stopped. He leans in to check the engine, fiddling around.

Just from a few seconds of watching him, she can tell he doesn’t know much about cars.

“Are you from here?”

Ah. She looks up, catching him peeking over his shoulder at her, “No. Not originally.” He looks as if he’s waiting for her to elaborate, so she continues, “I’m not used to this weather at all.”

“Hm. So you’re a northerner, then.”

“I guess you could say that.”

Even with the wind blowing, it’s still aggravatingly warm outside. She would’ve rather fixed the problem herself. She’s just about to open her mouth and say exactly that when he speaks up again.

“Shame that your husband isn't here.”

Lidiya smiles again. He’s looking towards her left hand, where the ring is, “He’s out of town on business.” That’s not really a lie, there were a few loose ends he had to wrap up. And since he would be away for a couple weeks, Lidiya thought it would be as good time as any to work on their home in Florida - finishing up decorations and retrieving any important mail that may be there. With as many homes as they have, she makes sure to stay dedicated to upkeep.

“I don’t think I’d ever go out of town if I had a wife like you at home.”

Her smile widens. She’s biting at her lip to try and not laugh, “Well, thank you.” She isn’t sure if he’s trying to flirt or insult her household, it’s such a strange way to compliment a woman’s appearance.

“I’m Thomas, by the way.”

“Lidiya.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” he must think she’s close to swooning - his attention isn’t even on the car anymore. It’s a bit aggravating, “So your husband just leaves you at home alone a lot?”

“Not really. He’s home more often than not.”

“Well, he’s awfully lucky, isn’t he?”

“I think I’m the lucky one.”  

He looks back towards the engine, ducking his head under the hood. “Hm. Maybe it’s the clutch cables.”

Unlikely. But Lidiya lets him talk.

“I can take a better look for you.” He continues to riffle around, unaware and clueless, “If your husband was here, he’d be able to do it for you.”

“My husband doesn’t know much about cars.”

“Good thing I’m here then, huh?” It’s quiet for a beat, “You know if you’re not really busy, I could help get it back to my place. I have more tools in my garage.”

He was really, really barking up the wrong tree.

“Actually,” she says, “If it were the clutch cables, the belt would’ve snapped. I believe the battery died. There might be something wrong with the alternator, but–” She looks towards him, “Would you mind if I borrowed your jump starting cables? I’m able to do it myself.”

He blinks at her. She smiles back.

Like said earlier, men just like to hear themselves talk.

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It takes much longer than she would’ve liked to get to the store. By time she does, the sun is already setting. There’s only a few things she needs - if she’s going to be staying in Florida for a couple more months, she’ll need to get the kitchen in order.

Lidiya is just about to leave when she passes by the feminine health aisle. She lingers there, almost picks up a pack of sanitary pads, but stops just short. When exactly was the last time she’d had her period? She can’t particularly remember - she was never good when it came to keeping track. She counts in her head, listing off on her fingers, frowning briefly. It doesn’t take long for her to realize she’s off - way off.

So, along with the pads, she grabs a pregnancy test.

It’s nothing she had to really think about. It’s been five years since her and Amani tied the knot, maybe it was a good idea to start thinking of children. It’s been brought up between them a few times, whether by parents or friends or themselves. But, they’d always been so busy - both with their own businesses and hobbies. It wasn’t as if they were going out of their way to not have children, in fact, Amani and Lidiya both had always expressed how much they enjoyed a child’s presence.

She stares down at the little thin box in her hand, hesitates, and then tosses it into her shopping basket.

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That night, Lidiya drums her fingers on the counter-top, staring at herself in the bathroom mirror. She’s dressed in a small lilac nightgown, she turns this way and that, trying to find a good angle. Finally, she grows frustrated and lifts the hem of her silk dress, touching a hand over her stomach. The area feels the same, normal - not hard or anything. Or, at least, she doesn’t think so.

She thinks about calling her mother - she would know about this. But then she shakes her head. Dropping her dress back into place, she looks down towards the pregnancy test in the sink, and then to the timer ticking away on her phone.

“Two minutes…” She murmurs to herself, touching her stomach again. It sounds like such a long way to go, she had no idea pregnancy tests took so long. Still, she tries to remain patient, quietly dragging her fingers around her bellybutton.

A child. A baby.

A person that carried hers and Amani’s traits alike. Maybe it would be a boy. Or perhaps a sweet girl. She wonders if she’ll look like her mother even more. Inhaling almost shakily, she reaches down and picks up the test.

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Positive.

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“Good evening, Mr. Wright.”

“And good evening to you, Mrs. Wright.”

She’s smiling already, rolling over in bed and holding the phone close to her ear. She hasn’t had a chance to speak to him all day, with his connecting flights, settling in, and the meetings, she’s surprised he was able to call her. As usual, somehow, Amani always makes time for her, no matter what.

“How was your flight?”

“Long.”

“Says the man who flew in first class.”

She can detect the smile in his voice. She rolls over onto her back, curled up on her half of the bed - even with him not there, she always leaves space for him, “If you’re tired, you should sleep.”

“I wanted to speak with my wife.”

“Mmm,” she hums underneath her breath, she’s smiling so much that her cheeks are beginning to hurt, “What time do you have to be up?”

“Eight. Why? Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Would you be interested in knowing I don’t have any underwear on?”

“Definitely interested.”

“Speaking of underwear, I ran into one of our neighbors today.”

He sounds amused, laughter in his voice, “Neighbors?”

“Mhm. He was awfully kind. He thinks it’s a shame that my husband left me here all alone.”

She can imagine the quirk of Amani’s brow at that, “Did he now? And which neighbor is this?” She doesn’t take it very seriously, she’s too busy smiling, quiet laughter leaving her. He’s quiet for a few seconds, listening to her. And then says, “I hate being away from you.”

Lidiya sobers slightly at that, her smile falling into a more gentle expression, “You’ll be home soon.”

He sighs, “Not soon enough.”

She knows it’s pretty rare for them to be away from each other, especially for this extended amount of time. But she never offers any protest, it is not her place to, and she remains as supportive as ever, even at times like this when he wishes to branch out. With the new contacts, he’d been the one to suggest she stay at home - Amani was always so careful with who he had her around, with him not knowing the newcomers very well, she could understand why.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I have a surprise for you when you get home.”

“A surprise?” He sounds interested almost instantly.

‘Yes. You’ll love it.”

He’s quiet for awhile, probably because of her tone, “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Hm,” she says, “Maybe. It doesn’t have anything to do with the house, if that’s where you’re getting at.”

Now, she’s sure he’s leaning forward in his seat, “A surprise that doesn’t have to do with decor…That’s something I want to see.”

“You will see. When you get home.”

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“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

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Lidiya pulls open the door, briefly making eye contact with Elise. They weren’t particularly close, but enough business conduct business together. In her right hand, Lidiya spots a briefcase, and so, she lets the other woman in, closing the door behind her.

“You’re early.”

“And you seem to be in a good mood,” Elise comments, watching her carefully. Lidiya leads her into the spacious living room, gesturing towards the couch, “Usually, you’re a little more damper when Amani is away.”

“Yes, well,” Lidiya is quick to grab her own supplies, fiddling with the buttons of the window’s remote - the blinds coming to a slow close. Once that was finished, she opens the east hallway’s closet, pulling out the long silver case of her own. Setting it down on the table, she waits until Elise gets comfortable to open it.

“Oh,” she says, dragging a finger over the gun, looking towards Lidiya once, “May I?”

Lidiya only nods, sitting down beside her.

“I know next to nothing about these sort of things,” But, she lifts the rifle from the case, balancing it carefully within her hands. Lidiya helps re-position her fingers - luckily, it isn’t loaded, “Josephine should’ve come with me.”

“I don’t blame her for being busy,” Lidiya replies, “She said she wanted the 700 Model, yes? Remington’s aren’t exactly easy to find, especially around this year.”

“How much was it again?”

“Since she is such a loyal customer, I was going to give it to her for three-thousand. It’s best to get it now, they’re being recalled. And high in demand.” As Elise looked over the rifle, Lidiya glances towards the briefcase on the coffee table, “What’s that for?”

Elise rolls her eyes, readjusting her glasses, “Another errand.” Lidiya isn’t very curious, so she doesn’t ask for any elaboration. After a few moments of checking the entire rifle over, Elise finally speaks, “Are checks alright?”

Lidiya smiles, slants her head a bit, “I’d prefer money upfront. Let’s not get beside ourselves.” When Elise makes a face, she continues, “You could just buy from offline, I told Josephine that a few times. She would probably get a better deal.”

“She doesn’t trust anyone enough for that. The last time she bought anything from anyone other than you, the gun clogged. The bullets wouldn’t even fire. She could’ve died.”

“What model?”

“A Berretta, one of those–uh, nine-two–”

“Nine-two-F-S.”

“Yes, that one.”

Gunrunning operations aren’t really interesting to her. But something easy to obtain and sale. Mostly, it’s to close associates or someone Amani may know. It’s rare for her to keep the guns that aren’t hers within the home, she finds other means to transport them around. Another reason she found a reason to travel to Florida, patching up a few deals and tying loose ends. She keeps it very small, nothing too big or detailed - explosives, tobacco, anything else that would sale for a high profit, she opts to stay out of those deals. Not only because of Amani, but because she doesn’t want to shoulder any of the back load.

“Alright, fine. Cash,” Elise sighs, placing the weapon carefully down into the case again, lingering a finger along the side, “Josephine has been spending rather frivolously - I think she’s planning another job.”

“She can be a bit of a wild card, can’t she?”

Elise’s dark eyes roll again, she’s digging around her purse for her wallet, “Fortunately, she doesn’t keep them in the house. I don’t want Xavier around them.”

Right. Lidiya goes quiet at that, her gaze drifting over to the far wall, “…Elise.”

“Yes?”

“Do you like being a mother?”

Elise snorts, still fingering through her wallet, “No,” And when Lidiya remains silent, she looks up, scrunching the delicate skin between her eyebrows, “I mean - it’s complicated. Children are complicated. Xavier’s about to be seven now and I still have no idea what I’m doing sometimes.”

Lidiya fidgets, enough for Elise to blink at her.

“…why’re you asking again?”

“No reason. It’s just–”

“Are you and Amani thinking about having children?”

“Maybe.”

Elise smiles, it’s a very rare look that comes across her face, “I think you’d make an excellent mother. You two are great, there’s no need to rush or worry.”

Lidiya nods slowly, processing the words. And then, “You still have to pay full price.”

Elise’s smile falls, but she hands over a large wad of hundreds, “You sound like Amani.”

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“So, what’re you wearing right now?”

“Clothes.”

“You aren’t giving me much to work with.”

Lidiya smiles, lingering her fingers on the fridge’s handle, “Don’t you want to wait to come home? And have the real thing?”

“That’s another two weeks from now. I’ll probably start experiencing extreme withdrawals.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Clara told me every time Anthony is out of town, she waits until he gets back, and the sex is amazing.”

“You don’t even like Clara.” Amani sounds close to smiling, if he isn’t already.

“When did I say that?”

“A few times.”

“Either way, I will listen to her advice this time around. Wouldn’t you rather wait for your big surprise?” As she speaks, she touches her stomach, within the last week, the area has hardened - she may be imagining the slight bump there, though. She isn’t sure. To know there is a life growing inside of her, something that Amani and herself made together. It could be described as beautiful, maybe even frightening.

She wants to experience this. With Amani. She couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else. She couldn’t imagine loving anyone else as much as she loves him. She curls her fingers almost protectively around her stomach, holding her palm there.

“Yes,” his tone sounds careful, curious, “You still won’t give me a hint.”

“No, Mr. Wright. You have to wait. I thought you were a patient man.”

“When it comes to you, I’m quite the opposite.”

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“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

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A week later, she wakes up feeling like - well, frankly, crap. There’s a soreness in her arms and legs, a twist in her stomach, and she sits up groggily, pushing pale blonde hair from her face. She throws the blankets off, gaze lingering on Amani’s half of the bed before she’s up and heading towards the bathroom.

Almost immediately, she feels as if something is wrong, just from one glance in the mirror. The cramping in her stomach becomes even more intense, and she barely manages to make it to the toilet, yanking down her underwear almost frantically.

Blood. There’s blood.

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“…no, no no–”

She’s quick to grab tissue from the roll, wiping and smearing the blood away - it’s so heavy. It makes her stomach roll over - she has to swallow down bile, bite back tears, keep in an almost instinctive, frantic sound.

“No, no, no, please–no–”

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“The meeting went well. James kept his mouth shut the entire time, and agreed my proposal was the best course action. You already knew that though. You must be asleep, I’ll call you later. Love you.”

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“Your phone is on, but you’re not answering. Did something happen? I can be on the next flight out, Lidiya. Call me back, I love you.”

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“Lidiya, please answer your phone.”

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“I’m coming home.”

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“Lidiya–”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t answer. I was–busy.” She’s sure she sounds off, voice soft and barely distinguishable.

Still, she can hear the relief in his voice just from hearing her safe and sound, “Don’t do that again. I called over Avery and Barrett, they should be there soon.” Ah, the bodyguards. The especially huge ones, “I’m heading to the airport.”

“No!” She says it almost too loudly and quickly. It suddenly sounds much too silent on the other line, “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Please don’t…worry about me. I just felt sick earlier.”

“Are you feeling alright? You need to go to a doctor then.”

“I’m fine,” she makes sure to give off a firm reply, “You can stay there. I’ll see you in a week, yes?”

“…Are you sure? I can come home now.”

“Business is important.”

“You’re more important, you know that.”

“Just–finish up there. I’m fine. It’s probably just a cold.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and for a second, she thinks he sees through her. He probably does, but he doesn’t say it over the phone, “Of course you would get a cold in the summer. In Miami. Please answer the door when Avery and Barrett get there.”

“I will.”

“Lidiya, I love you.”

“…I love you.”

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She watches the screen as he ends the call. The room is dark, overwhelmingly so, and so very quiet. She sits on the floor, at the foot of the bed, slowly placing down the phone.

Somehow, time had escaped her. It’s dark outside now, the shaking has subsided - for now, and the heaving breaths have calmed. She lifts a hand, forcefully pushes back long strands of hair from her face. She’ll have to shower before the bodyguards get there - if they saw her in her current state, they would definitely tell Amani, no questions asked.

It’s hard though. It’s hard to get up - to face herself in the mirror. There’s still dried blood on the toilet. It’s odd - she’s hasn’t felt this lonely in so long.

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“You two don’t have to keep pacing around.”

Avery stops, looks at her briefly, “We’re just doing what Amani asked.”

Lidiya sighs, but watches as they walk around the living room, dining room, and towards the stairs like clockwork. Amani must’ve given them an earful over the phone, Barrett keeps glancing out the windows and Avery won’t stop watching her every move. It’s been three hours since they arrived, and even though Lidiya is freshly showered and dressed and the house is spotless ( including the bathroom ), they refused to leave.

“We have to be thorough,” Barrett says, passing by her for the possibly the fifteenth time. His expression only softens when he gets a good look at her face, and he shoves his hands into his slack pockets, “He was damn near frantic on the phone when he called us, Mrs. Wright. We’re just making sure you’re safe.”

“I am,” she’s quiet with her response, picking at a loose thread on the couch, “I just felt sick earlier.”

“Which is why we offered to drive you to the hospital.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” her voice is bordering on annoyed, and Avery exchanges a look with his partner, shrugging when Barrett shoots him a hopeless expression. Releasing a sigh, she looks up towards both of them, “I just–I want to be alone. Please.”

Whatever they heard in her voice, whatever they saw upon her face, it was enough for them to back off for the time being. Avery pushes himself from the wall, crossing the room and stopping in front of her, “We’ll stop by later, alright? Get some rest.” She must’ve looked tired - his gaze searches her face for a few seconds before he stands back up straight, making a single motion towards Barrett.

When the door closes behind them, Lidiya is left alone again.

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She cries a lot. She hasn’t cried this much in so long. Not when Gavyn used to hurt her, not when her great-grandmother died, not when she left her hometown. Maybe it hurts so much because she doesn’t know what could’ve been - or maybe it hurts because she didn’t get to share this with Amani. Even if the time frame was so small, she was well aware he would’ve been just as excited as her.

It’s strange to mourn so much over someone you barely knew. Someone that hadn’t even take their first breath yet. Maybe it was something she did, maybe if she’d found out sooner, this wouldn’t have happened.

She lies in bed for another few hours, curled up on her side. By the time she even thinks of getting up, the sun is setting and her eyes feel uncomfortably dry and swollen. Even though she is not hungry, she tries to make an attempt at heading towards the kitchen. Her steps are slow and slightly dragging, it takes awhile to get down the stairs.

She must’ve been pretty out of it - because she hadn’t even noticed anyone else in the house. A pair of familiar shoes, a jacket thrown over the back of the couch. She rounds the corner of the kitchen carefully, finding his back to her, fingers loosening his tie to get it off. He must’ve just arrived.

As soon as he notices her out of the corner of his eye, he stops, blinking once at her appearance, “Lidiya–”

She knows she must look a mess - hair everywhere, still in her clothes from earlier, face a light pink, but she only moves towards him, and he responds in kind, taking her into his arms, holding her face close, his forehead pressing against hers, “Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what I can do.”

Her throat feels tight again. She vaguely wonders how many times she can cry - how she hasn’t run out of tears yet.

“…please stay. Please just stay,”  In response, he holds her tighter, she inhales - breathing in and out, the familiar scent is definitely a comfort, “Stay here with me.”

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