We were up until 5 a.m. like a couple of teenagers. We talked about everything and redeemed every single session in his schedule that we missed last week. I woke up around 7 in the morning. The smell of coffee filled his bedroom. First, I drew the curtains and let the light enter his room. Ordibehesht mesmerizes me. I don’t know whether he intentionally left his shirt on the bed for me to wear or it was left like that for no particular reason. I wore his shirt. I liked the fragrance of his detergents. One of my greatest problems with all Khosrows and Farhads[1] in my life was the way they smell. Smell, and Khosrow? As if he knew my weak spot from the beginning. Everything smelled amazing in his house. Even the smell of cigarettes was no longer an ordinary smell when mixed with the scent of his skin.

I went into the kitchen. He was whistling with the “Still Got the Blues For You” by Gary Moore and making breakfast. His house smelled like a hotel. Coffee. Bacon. Vanilla. Butter. Cream. I loved his damn taste in everything. Even the girls he chose. Negar, Maryam, and his other favorite girls as stupid Negar said. Did we all accept Khosrow’s unofficial Harem[2]?

Haniyeh was right, the basis of human lifestyle has not changed from the time of our hunter ancestors and the only difference is that it’s more colorful now. It has the same essence as it always had: Eat, sleep, fuck, give birth, and die.

• I thought you will call an ambulance to take you to the hospital to rest for a week on a strong diet. Where did you find the energy to cook?

He smirked, and said with pride:

• None of the ones you have been with before was even a resemblance of Khosrow. The best of them could be the retreater Farhad, if not Taghi, Naghi[3], or Laghi… With that sort of experience, that’s the only convenient way to think, honey.

I laughed. “You’re rude”.

He put the cup of coffee in front of me and before I ask anything he placed a big plate filled with eggs, French fries, bacon, and something that looked like strained yogurt on purple and green French lettuce and beet leaves.

• I don’t eat cooked breakfast.
• You have such poor taste, you spoiled brat… I don’t like the type of girls who always make excuses not to eat.
• Like I give a fuck about the type of girls that you like. There are so many things about you that I don’t like, will you change them for me?

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, as if he was asking “Haven’t I?” “Has he? Mmm… Has he changed anything?” It seems that he has. I couldn’t think of anything at that time. But now that I think about it, he had changed a lot of things in his normal routine from the beginning of our relationship, everything that bothered me. And the other things that he did not change were the ones I haven’t told him about, so does that mean that Khosrow loved me from the beginning? Does that even make sense for two grownups in our age to love like that?

• What kind of crap do you want to eat?
• Bread, cheese, and nuts
• That’s it? No wonder you’re just skin-and-bones.
• Instead of fattening me, figure out a way to get rid of your weight that goes up every day
• Well, women are into fat guys these days. Muscular bodies are not in fashion anymore. Girls are going through the same historical process as the men did, now we are in the Qajar era that men were into fat women. I’d be dead for years when you reach the aesthetics of the modern era. When people are in the market for my type, why should I restrain myself from worldly pleasures?
• Deceptive clown… Grow a mustache then, like the men in the Qajar era.

I did not even notice when he placed the plate in front of me and decorated it. I could not do any of those things. But Khosrow loved entertaining and providing, just like Maryam. Well, he needed someone to tuck all that in with gusto. My fussy behavior got on his nerves. Exactly the opposite of Negar, who agreed with him in everything. Last Thursday they went out to eat Kalleh Pache with alcohol. At the crack of dawn! My whole body would tear apart if I did anything like that. Negar was attractive and different. She would be the winner of this marathon if it wasn’t for her age difference with Khosrow. Or maybe I have made this all up in my mind. You can never know unless you look at things from the viewpoint of the lover.

• You cannot back down if I grew a mustache.
• If you did, I’d be gone in a blink of an eye. I hate it. Yikes.
• Well, Negar liked it and said it tickled her.
• That’s nice. Good for Negar then. As far as I’m concerned, you can tickle her to death.

He was leaning on the cabinet and smelling his coffee. He was looking at me meticulously:

• Something tells me that you are jealous of Negar, aren’t you?
• You would love it if we fought for you, wouldn’t you? The previous girls have spoiled you by treating you like a Khan. Don’t mess with me or I’ll design a Seven Labors of Rustam[4] for you.
• Why are you so full of yourself?
• Why shouldn’t I?
• Because it’s unappealing. I don’t like it!
• Well, all the other Khosrows liked it.
• But I am not like the other Khosrows. You remember the morning right.
• So self-confident.

He laughed.

• I’m still wondering about the field of Humanitarian Sciences. What do you think your students would think of you if they knew what kind of a monster you are?
• I don’t care about that. The relationships based on a mask are not to be trusted. It’s all a lie. There is no love between people in these types of relationships, no hate, and not even indifference. None of it is real. People in our society have a distorted image of each other and merely see a cropped image of others; …. An image filled with lies and pretense,…. sensor, deception, apologizing, and makeup. Nothing is natural.
• Is that why you never put on any makeup? To be natural?

I did not answer. He sat across from me and put his hand under his chin.

• Glut on. Your bread is getting cold. Do you have a class today?

I took a huge bite of the Sangak that he just took out of the toaster and put it in my mouth with cheese and some walnuts. I answered while eating:

• In the evening, what about you?
• I had a class at eight and I canceled it. That’s too much you’re going to choke on that. There’s no need to hurry.

I spent the best moments of my life with Khosrow until the sixth and seventh of Khordad (?) that the classes ended. I thought that when our classes would be over, we’d spend every moment together, yet life doesn’t always turn out the way you expected.

• Shirin, we’ll leave Iran together. I knew you were different from the others from the moment I saw you. You just need to know yourself.
• No, Maryam, it’s not like that. I’ve always loved spending time with Khosrow. I might be confused for a short time being. Maybe that is just it. Khosrow and I had a lot of ups and downs before we reached this point. I cannot forget about everything that we have been through. I have only known you for a few months. And it’s just a few days that we are close.
• I was like you when I first found out about it. Shirin, this period of denial will pass. I promise you it will. You think that you love Khosrow. You love him just because you are trying to, that’s what society expects from you. What you and I have comes from within. Shirin, look within yourself.

Within myself? My whole self is filled with Khosrow. It was bad at first, then, when things started to become good, it turned worse. But then. Everything was like a dream. A dream that I didn’t want to ruin with the rules of the real world. I wanted to keep it a secret, a secret that people were trying to destroy with their lies and gossips, but I don’t want to lose the peace that I have found with him. Maybe my mistake was doing that. I was all-or-none. All or nothing as Khosrow put it. nothing in the middle. Maybe I should let our era pass as well. Maybe when the moon would let go off me I can think with a sound mind and soul. I’m not sure. I just know that now is not the time to make any decisions.

To be continued

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[1] Characters from Khamseh Nezami.

[2] (In former times) The separate part of a Muslim household reserved for wives, concubines, and female servants.

[3] Boys names

[4] Persian mythology