Chapter 23
Incense, fresh mint, and spices created a rather overwhelming mix for the olfactory senses for those who weren’t used to it. To me, it smelled like home. The familiar scent of Aswaa and Nadim’s house made my shoulders relax a bit. During the whole ride here, I couldn’t stop fidgeting in my seat. I hadn’t been able to talk back every time Jasmine tried to start a conversation. Gods bless her, she didn’t take it personally.
Jasmine dropped her bag at the door with her luggage, and we both swapped our shoes for babouche slippers. Isam lifted his eyes from his phone and flashed us a toothy smile. He still had a lot of baby fat in his cheeks, but as he stood to greet us, he towered over both his sister and me. Jasmine merely patted his arm before going to the kitchen.
“‘Sup, Little One.”
His grin only widened before he hugged me. Isam tilted me up, and my feet were lifted off the ground. Maybe Little One was a nickname that would have to go.
“I see you’re still as ugly as always,” Isam shot back without any hesitation.
Oh, to be sixteen again. I whacked him on the back of his head now that I could reach there.
“Isam! Where are your manners?”
Isam hid behind me to avoid the babouche that his mom threw his way. The slipper hit me in the stomach. Auntie Aswaa put her babouche back on before giving me a tight hug.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry, Amirti .”
She flicked her son on the forehead. Isam at least had the common sense to pretend like he felt scolded. Aswaa’s hand pressed my shoulder and tutted.
“There’s no need to be so tense, Evelyn. You’re safe here.”
“I know.”
I pulled her closer for another hug, and she gently threaded her fingers through my hair. I followed her to the kitchen and grabbed the glass with my name engraved on it. They had offered me a mug and a glass when I arrived here seven years ago, because everyone had their own mug and glass, and they didn’t want me to feel like a stranger at home. Nadim and Jasmine were already chatting at the kitchen table when I plopped down next to him. He pressed a kiss to my temple before continuing his conversation with his daughter. Aswaa took a round wooden tray and put the tea glasses and the Moroccan teapot on it. Her eyes met mine. Even though I knew nothing would happen to me, my heart rate spiked, and I had trouble swallowing.
We all settled down in the Moroccan sitting corner, except for Isam, who took this as his cue to leave Jasmine and me with the adults. Auntie Aswaa poured everyone a cup of mint tea, before sitting down next to me. As always, she kept her demeanour open and inviting, her gaze kind.
“How have you been, Amirti ?”
I took a sip of the delicious tea, readying myself for the next hour.
“I’m alright,” I started.
“She's not alright at all,” Jasmine interjected. “She’s been hiding in her bedroom for two whole days, barely eating.”
I glared at my best friend, who glared back right away. She knew I would not talk if she didn’t throw me under the bus. I didn’t even know where to start, or what to say. This whole week had been a disaster, and a blur. At this point, I couldn’t say what hurt the most. Or maybe I could, and that was so much worse.
“I didn’t go to my parents for Christmas. I told them I had to study and work at the café, but I didn’t think I’d see them at my grandma’s house when I went to visit her.”
I grabbed a pillow to hide behind. Aswaa gently squeezed my knee, motioning for me to continue. So I told them everything that happened. What I said to my parents. How Danté had stayed with me through the tears and the outburst. Jasmine’s eyes lit up at the mention of our neighbour, unlike her father’s, whose were shooting lightning in my direction. If only he knew that Theo spent most of his time at our place, and what happened behind closed doors in Jasmine’s bedroom. Danté and I sleeping on the couch was probably the most innocent thing that happened in our apartment when a guy came over. And yes, sure, I had taken home my fair share of men, but it wasn’t because I didn’t commit that Jasmine was more innocent than I was. The handcuffs inside her nightstand told a whole story, and she wasn’t the one wearing them.
Auntie Aswaa took her slipper off and hit Jasmine on the forearm.
“I told you to bring Evy home for Christmas!”
Jasmine yelped in surprise. My best friend grabbed the babouche before Aswaa could strike again. “I invited her! She’s the one who refused to come.”
Aswaa turned to me, her eyes clouded with anger. She hit my thigh with her palm.
“Why did you refuse?” she shrieked.
I rubbed my leg, keeping my gaze low. Jasmine hated it when I said she was exactly like her mom. Somehow moments like these kept proving my case.
“So Theo could ease into the family without me being in the way,” I mumbled.
This time Aswaa flicked me on the forehead.
“Nonsense. You’re our daughter. You are never in the way.”
“I appreciate the thought,” Jasmine added, “but Mom’s right. Next time, you’ll stay with us.”
“ Amirti , you are going to talk to your parents, right?” Uncle Nadim asked.
I let my chin rest on my knees, scratching at the denim with my nail. “I know I have to apologize, but I don’t mean it.”
“Then don’t,” Aswaa shot back matter-of-factly.
Nadim shook his head, clearly disagreeing with his wife. “She should talk it out.”
“Of course she should talk it out. But Evelyn shouldn’t apologize and pretend like she’s fine when she’s not.”
My eyes burned at how strongly Aswaa stood behind me. Nadim nodded, staying quiet.
Auntie turned back to face me. “Call your parents and tell them what you need.”
“And if I need time? How can I tell them I don’t want them around?”
Both Nadim and Aswaa looked at each other, silently agreeing on what to say next. I, too, wanted to find the kind of relationship where my partner and I could understand each other without having to talk aloud.
“Then just say so. They let you wait for years; you can tell them to wait until you are ready. But they need to know.”
Okay. I could do that. I swirled the tea inside my glass. This was going to be such a messy conversation, but I could do this. It was the least I could do. My parents deserved the truth, no matter what it would be, just like I deserved the peace of mind of being honest for once.
Jasmine cleared her throat. “What about Danté? I know there is more that you’re not telling us.”
Traitor . I knew that once I said out loud what happened, I wouldn’t be able to pretend like nothing happened anymore. Not like I had been very good at pretending, but that’s beside the point. I bit my lip.
“Danté stayed with me these last five days.”
Uncle’s eyes darkened. I ignored his reaction and continued. My heart squeezed painfully while talking about Danté, and about the few days we had spent together. Like I had said before, he had been my rock. He had taken my defence in front of my parents and held me close afterwards. Something I hadn’t expected him to do. There weren’t enough words to describe the gratitude I felt towards him. But even this wasn’t enough. The closer we became, the more I wanted him. Yet I kept being reminded all the time that we were not meant to be. And that hurt so much more than anything else. I loved Danté. That was the sad reality. Like a pathetic little girl, I waited and kept praying that he would love me too. I stopped talking, sniffling, and doing my best to keep my tears at bay. In vain.
“I don’t like this,” Nadim stated.
The contrary would’ve been a shock for everyone in this room.
“We are not a thing, Uncle. There’s no need to worry.”
“He slept with you.”
My cheeks heated up at the image that flashed in my mind. Dirty, dirty mind. “In a non-sexual way.”
Uncle Nadim sputtered his tea out while his neck and cheeks grew red. I pressed my lips together. That was the type of conversation I wasn’t going to have with them. They weren’t ready.
“But you want him,” Aswaa interjected.
“I do.”
I wanted it all: the good, the bad, the ugly. I wanted the laughter, the fights, no matter how explosive or silly they could be, like bickering over who ate the last piece of cake. The trust and knowledge that we would always have each other’s corner, no matter what would come our way. Uncle’s brows went down to create a deep frown on his face.
I let out a wet laugh. “I also meant that in a non-sexual way.”
Jasmine cackled, and her father’s head went up in horror.
“Though I’ll admit that he looks more than fine without a shirt on.”
“ Amirti !”
“Sorry Baba, but she’s right. Danté is a snack.”
“And very well mannered,” Auntie Aswaa added.
Yes, Danté checked all the boxes. Kind, funny, considerate. He was a total sweetheart. That was what made it so hard not to love him. A tear rolled down my cheek. Aswaa took my hands in hers.
“It seems like you care about that young man a lot,” Aswaa tried.
Especially since it was the first time I told them about a guy.
“I love him, Mom.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Love is supposed to be wonderful. But every time I think we can make it, and be more than friends, he slips through my fingers. I don’t know what to do.”
After all, I was just me: the weird, grumpy squirrel girl with her life planned out, and Danté was everything I was not. I didn’t stand a chance next to a sunshine like Manal.
“You need to stop running, Evelyn. There is a chance that he loves you too.”
“But…”
“And if he can’t see the kind girl that you are, he doesn’t deserve you. So talk to him, because you need to know.”
Just the idea of talking to him made my stomach churn, an acid taste burning the back of my mouth. I shook my head. This was going to be a total disaster. It was better to have Danté in my life, even if it meant watching him from the sidelines while he was happy with someone else.
“I can’t.”
Aswaa clicked her tongue, disappointed in my reaction. “ Amirti , you can’t keep pretending like everything is fine. Be honest.”
Deep down, I knew I had to be honest at some point. Right now, it felt like I was drowning, but the thought of going back to the surface was scaring me.
“Can I at least pretend tonight?”
Her gaze softened. “Just tonight then.”