18. Margarete
CHAPTER 18
Margarete
I stop at the bottom of the stairs as I hear a man’s voice down the hall.
“You think I’m nuts? You should’ve seen Xander. That man is in love. It’s funny. I always thought he was straight.”
“Cyrus, keep your voice down,” Azadeh replies.
“The way those three were going at it at the crack of dawn, I’m sure they know we’re gonna talk.”
I reach the kitchen and clear my throat loudly.
Azadeh smiles. “Good morning, Margarete.”
“It was a good morning, all right,” the man with the burn marks says as he drinks from his coffee cup. I think his name is Cyrus.
Azadeh hits him on the back of the head. He glares at her before pulling her onto his lap, causing her to squeal with laughter.
“What can I get you for breakfast, Margarete?” Azadeh asks.
“I’m okay, but I was wondering if I could take a plate to Hans?”
Cyrus taps Azadeh’s ass as she stands and maneuvers around the designer kitchen. “Cyrus, why don’t you go about your day so Margarete and I can have a girl talk?”
Cyrus shoots up like an arrow, kisses Azadeh on the cheek, and heads out the back door.
“Have a seat, Maggie. I’ll get you something to eat.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay. Hans needs to eat.”
“I’m Persian, Maggie. It’s a grave sin if you don’t feed your guests. And I’ll be offended if you don’t eat my food. I’ll make Hans a plate, too, don’t you worry. I love feeding people.”
I smile at her kindness and sit on one of the stools at the island. I don’t know what to say, and I suddenly feel awkward.
“You want to ask me something?” Azadeh says as if reading my mind.
I rub my hands against my dress, my palms clammy with nerves.
“It’s okay if you do. I don’t know if Xander told you, but I used to help girls like you.” She chuckles as she cuts up some feta cheese. “Truth be told, I was close to becoming like you.”
My ears perk up as I listen. “Xander hasn’t told me much.”
“He’s a good man. Not many men like him in the world. I know he looks rough, but he has a soft center. We met when we trained together. I wanted to save girls like me, and he wanted to avenge someone he loved.” Azadeh shakes her head, smiles, and places a tray before me. “A traditional Persian breakfast, but if this isn’t to your liking, I can make you bacon and eggs.”
“Turkey bacon?” I ask.
“No, the pork kind, I’m afraid. Cyrus would lose his ever-loving mind if I tried to pass turkey off as bacon.”
I gaze down at the spread of fresh flatbread, feta cheese, walnuts, jam, cucumbers, and fresh herbs. “This looks wonderful, thank you.”
“I can get Zeke to pop to the store if you’d like turkey bacon. It wouldn’t be a bother.”
I wave her off as I pick up a piece of bread and smear some feta cheese on top with a knife. “Oh, no. I was asking because you said you were Muslim.”
She giggles, and I find the sound soothing. “I grew up Muslim. I’m not Muslim anymore. Oddly, though, I still haven’t tried pork. You’d think I’d want to, but when you’ve never eaten something, you tend to stay away from it. It’s kind of like when a person has a nut intolerance that they grow out of but still doesn’t consume nuts.” She grabs a pack of cigarettes from the counter and turns to me. “You mind?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s your house.”
“But you’re my guest. Your comfort matters to me. You can take the girl out of Iran, but you’ll never take Iran out of the girl.”
“Why did you leave your religion?” I blurt.
“Evil men used it to hurt me and my family. Besides, as I told you when we first met, faith doesn’t need to be tied to an organization. I’m pretty sure God won’t punish you for running away from an abusive situation.”
“So you still believe in God?”
Azedah takes a drag of her cigarette and contemplates my question. “I go through phases. I think it depends on where I am in life. When I was in my teens, I hated God. I believed him to be evil incarnate. In my twenties, I pitied God for being too weak and allowing evil men to sully his name. Now, in my thirties, I like the idea of God. I think of him as a loving grandpa who minds his business but wants the best for me.”
“I’m conflicted,” I admit.
“That’s normal. It’s hard to break free from the only thing you’ve ever known. It’s an adjustment.”
“Who did Xander want to avenge?”
Azadeh takes another drag of her cigarette. “That’s not my story to tell, but Xander will if you ask him.”
“He killed a man.”
As soon as the words slip from my lips, I slap my hand over my mouth as if it will somehow rewind time.
Azadeh takes another drag from the cigarette and winks at me. “So have I.” She butts her cigarette in a clean crystal ashtray before spraying air freshener around the room. “Lev gets mad when we smoke in the house. He’s a real downer, but I love him so much that I let it slide.”
Azadeh seems too sweet to be a killer. Xander being capable of such brutality makes complete sense. He exudes domineering, potentially homicidal energy. The evidence supporting those traits seems undeniable. But the way he attended to Hans in the bathroom was full of concern and unwavering affection.
“I’m confused about my feelings.”
Azadeh’s discerning gaze makes me want to look away. “About God?”
“No. I have feelings for Hans and Xander and keep thinking that’s wrong. I shouldn’t want to be with two different men at the same time.”
I brace myself for a myriad of angry words. I deserve it. I’m sitting at her table, eating her food, and borderline calling her a deviant.
Azadeh smiles and places her hand on top of my shaking one. “You’re confused about God. You think a relationship between the three of you is wrong because you’ve been conditioned to believe that a nuclear family is the only acceptable option. A mother, a father, and multiplication to ensure you’re fruitful.” She chuckles at her joke. “Love is an ocean with many waterways. Zeke told me that years ago. People think love is linear, but it’s not. It’s ebb and flow. The way I live isn’t for everyone. It takes a lot of work to be in a polyamorous relationship. It requires trust, commitment, and brutal honesty. I grew up in a square world with rules and expectations that never worked for me. This world I’ve built with my guys works for me. I could never pick between my partners. Each of us adds something to the dynamic and enhances our bond.”
“Sexually?” Jesus, why am I so bold with my questions? This woman is practically a stranger, and I’m asking about her private activities. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”
Azadeh laughs. “It’s okay. Never be sorry for asking a question that helps you to understand a situation. Yes, sexually, but in other ways that are far more important. Zeke provides me with comfort. Cyrus makes me laugh, and Lev makes me feel safe. If any of them were removed from the dynamic, we’d have a puzzle with a missing piece. You need to decide if Hans and Xander fit with you. Unfortunately, that’s a question only you can answer, but I will tell you this: Xander has been obsessed with the two of you for a long time, and obsession is hard to shake.”
“Xander makes me feel alive.”
“That’s a good thing,” Azadeh says. “Margarete, when you’re raised in a world where they clip your wings, it’s healing to be with someone who allows you to soar. What does Hans provide for you?”
“Safety. I’ve always been safe with him. He’s a constant, and I cannot imagine my life without him. Living without Hans would be like amputating a limb.”
Azadeh smiles. “Then I don’t see the problem. Seems like they both fit in your puzzle.”
Cyrus reenters the kitchen and grabs a walnut off the counter. “They fit with each other too.”
“Cyrus, cut it out,” Azadeh scolds. “I’m sorry, Margarete. He’s not housebroken yet.”
Cyrus grabs Azadeh around the waist and pretends to hump her. “Woof, woof, baby.”
Azadeh rolls her eyes and pushes past him. She hands me another tray with the same breakfast she made for me. “If Hans wants something else, let me know, and I’ll make it.”
I grab the tray and get up from the table. “This is perfect. Thank you for everything, Azadeh.”