I'd thought traffic to the airport wouldn't be bad on a Thursday, but forgot to factor in the fact that half the city is on its way home out of Vancouver every afternoon.

Groaning, I stretch as much as I can in my cramped seat as my mind wanders off.

Papa called half an hour ago when their plane landed, so hopefully, in the next few minutes it takes me to get to arrivals, Mumma and Papa will be waiting for me on the curb. Immigration shouldn't take too long, right? It's a Thursday, after all.

I drum my fingers on the wheel, wincing when I think about the state of my office space. Aside from facing Richard's wrath tomorrow - I left in the middle of reviewing something he sent me; though, in my defense, he sent it last minute - my room is still cluttered with the innards of various reports from weeks previous. I don't mind being busy, but I do mind being so busy that incomplete work piles up, persistently annoying in their place at the back of my thoughts.

Worst of all, my work has crept into my new home. It's a new apartment that I'm renting - much smaller than a suburban home, but not claustrophobic. A friend of a friend - okay, a friend of Mumma's friend - sent me a few places to check out. In hindsight, a few apartments closer to work and there was one with better parking, but when my attention was split seven different ways, my mind settled on the fully furnished one.

It's strange to live in a place that doesn't have a fireplace or a backyard or even a walk-in closet or....

There's a lot this new home doesn't have.

But it's a two-bedroom apartment so it's spacious enough. I'll make do.

And the living room walls are painted in an array of bright colors. There's a pink wall. The pink wall makes it all worth it.

***

I pull into arrivals before Mumma and Papa come out. Or, at least, I think so until a cart is steered toward my car with suitcases piled up so high I almost drive past it. I squint at it just as a familiar face peeks out from behind it.

"Papa!"

In a hurry, I park and run around the car to hug Papa. "Welcome back... You smell, you know that?"

Papa crushes me to his chest before pulling away and straightening my hair. "Haan, haan. Nahya kha hoon main? How are you, baacha?" [Yeah, yeah. Where have I had the chance to shower yet?]

"Good." I pick up a suitcase while opening the trunk of my car, "Glad you're back. Ma khan hain?" [Where is Ma?]

"She's on her way- See, there she is!"

"He, Ma," I say, opening my arms for a hug.

Mumma looks me up and down, nods at me once, and then breezes past me, seating herself on the passenger side. The window rolls down and she calls, "I'm tired and want to take a shower. I'll hug you after that. Challo, jildi karro." [Come on, be quick.]

I look back at Papa who's turned around to hide his laughter and smile.

Everything will be okay.

***

Mumma and Papa take turns showering as I toe around half-unpacked suitcases and make my way to the kitchen.

It's been a while since I've come home, but I still know my way around. The pantry opens with a loud squeak, as always, and I peer into the dark.

"Green dal, brown dal, small yellow dal, fat yellow dal, rongi, split-in-half yellow dal," I list then sigh, turning to Mumma, who's just entered, "Why are there so many yellow dals?" [dal = lentils, rongi = black-eyed beans]

Mumma just hums and pushes me aside. "Yellow dal is a staple, Diamond. And besides, all dals end up yellow because of haldi; it doesn't matter how they start out." [turmeric]

She pulls out a few dals, and in no time the three of us are sitting on the couch in front of the TV, stuffing our faces with spoonfuls of khichdi as Mumma and Papa tell me about their trip. [a rice and lentil dish]

"Oh, Diamond. I almost forgot - I have something for you," Papa says, getting up and walking off.

I raise an eyebrow at Mumma in question, and she rolls her eyes. "When we went to Preeti aunty's daughter's Sangeet, he got carried away with the mehndi. You know how he is." [an event traditionally held as part of Northern Indian weddings]

That, I do.

"Dekho!" Papa returns, holding a mehndi cone in front of my face. He squeezes himself between me and Mumma and gives me a one-armed hug. "Maybe your wedding isn't any time soon, but I thought this would keep your hopes up."

I blink. "My hopes?" The way Papa's talking, it's like he already...

Papa sighs and looks down. "I know. A little bit, at least. Mumma told me."

My heart climbs into my throat and blood rushes through my ears. I'm not ready for this. What do I say? I can't say it again. Even his name... "You mean... you know about..."

Tom.

"Tom. Yeah."

I look up and suddenly feel ten times worse. In Papa's face, concern appears as a wrinkled forehead and tear-stained cheeks. Beside him, even Mumma looks tense, as she fidgets with the pillow in her lap. "Oh, guys," I whisper, my voice feeble. "Guys. Mumma, Papa, please don't look like that. It happened. It's done. Why are you sad? Please don't be sad."

It's just another thing that's... over.

A large hand grasps mine tightly and Papa's eyes pierce through me. "Just tell me one thing, baacha: Did he hurt you?"

Of course he did.

And didn't.

"Not in a way that was his fault at all." I'm barely able to offer him a watery smile, "It was just time, Papa. I'll... I'll be fine."

Papa's grip loosens. "Until then and even after, you know Mumma and I are here for you, Diamond. Hamesha ke lie." [for always]

And with that, I settle myself in Mumma and Papa's laps as Mumma switches the topic to the supposedly abhorrent shade of yellow the groom's mother wore at the main wedding. She presses my feet as she talks and Papa combs through my hair with his fingers. Their eyes lack a certain shine they normally do, and I know that mine do too.

But we're together, dealing with things together.

Everything will be okay.

***

The door swings open with ease thanks to all the practice I've had the past month wrestling my own door. Liam's mid-yawn when I walk in, and I quickly avert my eyes. Yawns are contagious and I have no desire to be able to count all of his teeth. What if he also doesn't brush his teeth regularly?

"You didn't knock," he says, interrupting my thoughts.

"You never knock," I remind him, holding up the cup in my hand. "No doughnuts but... coffee?"

"Are we making this a weekly thing?"

I shrug, forcing the corners of my mouth to stop lifting up into a smile. I wouldn't mind having a "weekly thing."

As if ordering the coffee from me, he beckons me forward, and I roll my eyes before handing it over.

Liam raises an eyebrow then takes a sip and immediately spits it out, sputtering, "There's no sugar or creamer! God, that's awful."

"I thought you take your coffee black?"

"Why would you think that?! I remember getting you coffee just the way I like it!"

"I thought you were overcompensating with the sugar because of your biased view of me as a woman! The coffee you got me last week was more milk and sugar than coffee, Liam. I wouldn't have drunk it if I didn't need the caffeine."

"It's not too much sugar," Liam huffs, frowning at the cup in his hand.

"Fine. I'll go get sugar for you," I say, opening the door.

"And creamer!" Liam calls behind me.

***

I rush toward my car at the end of the day, not wanting to be held back by another pile of papers sent by Richard. He works like clockwork; the moment I finish any task he sends me another, and I haven't even had a chance to take a break and go back to the reports that are now stuffed into my deskside drawer.

I settle into my car with a sigh, thankful that I wore my coat before getting out because the air is frigid. It's only September, but it's a sign of what's to come.

The sky is dark as I pull out of the covered garage, the road illuminated by streetlights and storefront signs. The Vietnamese restaurant near my apartment is closed now, I observe as I drive past, and I arrive home empty-handed and craving pho.

After turning up the thermostat inside my previously empty apartment, I fall onto the couch. Cushiony and piled with pillows, I'm grateful it's nothing like the abomination in Liam's mansion. My body is heavy with exhaustion, but I find that I'm not wholly averse to the feeling. I'm pleased with the work I've done this week and the progress I've made with my coworkers, and I'm relieved that Richard has no way of contacting me outside of work. I plan to completely forget about anything work-related this weekend.

I lift myself off the couch and go toward my compact kitchen, eventually finding last night's leftovers then closing the near-empty fridge.

I really have to go grocery shopping tomorrow.

***

My phone rings as I finish putting the groceries away. I stare at it, puzzled.

When did I save a number under the name "Idiot"?

Oh.

"Hi?"

"Hey, Love," Liam's voice sounds gruff through the phone. "Am I picking you up tonight?"

Wait a minute. "What?!"Did he just call me- "Love?!"

"Yes?" Liam says, ignoring me. "Alright, I'll text you when I leave home. Can't wait to see you."

"Can't wait to see you?"

I hear a high-pitched gasp that can't possibly belong to Liam and then a deep groan that I can't attribute to anyone but Liam.

"He's cheating on you!" A shrill voice shrieks. "You hear me? He's chea-"

The line goes dead, cutting off the woman's voice. I lower my phone away from my ear and set it on the counter, distancing myself from whatever just happened.

Why did... Why did Liam say those things? Did the coffee yesterday give him the wrong idea about us? And who was that woman?!

I'm staring into the fridge trying to decide what I'm going to do for dinner when my phone buzzes on the countertop. I jolt and slam the fridge shut in surprise.

The Idiot flashing on my phone makes me frown, but I answer it anyway. "Liam?"

"Hi again." He sounds out of breath. "Sorry, this has never happened before."

I don't know... Your name isn't Idiot in my phone for no reason...

But I know I must indulge the man-child. "What hasn't happened before?"

"Penelope," he answers nonchalantly.

"Penelope?"

"I left her in my bed this morning - we were up late, you know how it is - and when I came back this evening, I found her sitting on the couch! I'd left a note telling her to take her time, but I think she took that a little too literally."

I sigh and lean against the counter; this story is not yet over. "Mhm... and then?"

"So obviously I panicked, but then I remembered that you're my friend. And you're female."

"And I'm female," I echo.

"So I told Penelope that I have a girlfriend, called you, made up a story about dinner, and you said all the right things! Well, kind of. But it worked!"

"Well, I hope you've learned your lesson about letting strangers stay in your home, Liam."

"I think I'll be fine. I just have to work on the script a little."

"I'll leave you to it then," I say as my stomach rumbles. "I'm starving and still need to figure out dinner."

Liam hums for a moment. "Yeah... hey, Diamond?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

I only answered a phone call, but if Liam wants to thank me for it, who am I to refuse? "You're welcome, Liam. Have a good night."

And right as I'm about to end the call, Liam says, "Hey, wait. You want to actually get dinner together? We can get some fried pokey balls?"

I hesitate, looking back at the fridge. Then I remember my earlier indecisiveness. Everything happens for a reason. "Sure," I say, and reach for my keys, "I'll meet you there."

I forget I am Diamond and go with the flow.

***

if you made it to the end of this chapter, i would personally like to applaud you for your efforts

also, wow! hi! i love that you're here even after i've been for what feels like several hundred years ;)

but yep.... this is obviously a first draft of a short, pretty much filler chapter where i experiment with time skips. i hope it was decently readable haha

that being said, there are moments in this chapter that i find sO wholesome, and i hope you enjoyed them too :D

EXCITING NEWS: for my Elliott fans, the next chapter is sure to appease you (i hope :o)

but until then,

all my love, and then some more

JustAnotherDarling