Neda gathered all her energy and said:
"You talk in a way as though you're burying me or saying good bye for ever!"
He smiled; but no, he was not smiling.
"I think so. I think it's the last time we see each other." He said what was in his mind unexpectedly. What he said out loud, was what he contemplating silently! But Neda heard it.
He touched her face with both hands.
"You're crying!"
She did not answer. She felt a lost love for him; perhaps hidden somewhere in the layers of her conscious; somewhere that she was not aware of it. In the midst of his contempt, his indifferent attitude, his hatred, she suddenly found that mysterious love; but it was not a type of love that a man and woman needed to live with each other. It was a sympathizing love. For the first time she knew that she was as guilty as he was. However she kept the memory of his last words to her "you're crying" through the night and after that for a long time.
In the morning she knew it was all over. What she did not know, in fact nobody knew at the moment, was that with her father's involvement, she would have a nasty divorce ahead of her. She wanted a peaceful and friendly one!
The first person in her family she talked to was her brother, Sohrab. She called her father's office where her brother worked. He answered the phone himself.
"Sohrab, come and see me after work!"
"What is going on, little sis?'
"I tell you when I see you!"
He knew that things at his sister's home were not right. He had not seen Mansour at least for a month. His sister avoided them. She used different excuses each time they asked her about Mansour's whereabouts or why she was not going to their house! His intuition from the beginning of this marriage had warned him of a disaster that his sister would face. He had tried to talk to their father, but the old man always changed the subject, as though he knew that he would be blamed for his daughter's untimely marriage in the final analysis. What Sohrab had predicted, now seemed to be upon them only after several months of marriage.
Sohrab did not wait till afternoon to get off work. He left right away and went directly to his sister's apartment. When Neda opened the door, what he saw was shocking. She looked more like dead than alive. His anger flashed through his eyes; on the other hand, his love for his sister extinguished the blaze. At first Neda thought that he would kill Mansour. She was the one in need of help, but at the moment she had to calm her brother. She needed someone to sooth her, to empathize with her, to ease her sorrow; but it was the grief of her brother that needed to be alleviated. Now she was struggling to save her brother from his fury and heartbreak through her own rage and anguish. The force she found to do this made her speechless; and the condition of not being able to speak made her extremely agitated. She did not cry, as though something inside her seized her of showing any emotion. Her face turned so pale that it had the color of death; her whole body shook. All she could do to make the atmosphere a little brighter, was to put her helpless hand over the hand of her brother.
"It is over! It had never had to happen!" She said with despair.
She, who always thought men were master of their emotions and could not cry easily, yet could show their outrage as effortlessly as they began their happiness, was surprised to see her brother in that state of mind. While he was crying, she told him what she thought. He said through the hiccup of his tears and anger:
"I don't want to be the slave of my emotions. But here we are talking about your life. He ruined you. You're not even seventeen yet, and would be a divorced, pregnant woman. How do you want me to control my anger, my tears? I just can't take it...can't take it..."
To Be Continued
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