UNFULFILLED- SEVENTEEN- The Old Man

It was the spring of 1975. The film crew, who had come from America to make a documentary about Neda several years back, now returned for the second installment. They wanted to see how the simple, yet famous Persian poetess lived now; and if fame and fortune had changed her. They were surprised to see that she had bought a house; that she had a dog and a cat; and her nephew, Aria, the little boy who had run after them the entire time then, now was a ten years old boy, who appeared very different both in look and behavior. Now he was a very well behaved boy, on the fifth grade, going to a privet school, courtesy of his aunt. This time he did not pay attention much to them. He said that he did not remember them. After all he was only three years old the first time they had come. Now he was mostly in his room, behind his desk, studying. But he still called Neda, "Aunt na".

To this American, Neda had also changed a lot in the last seven years. She looked much older. She had a lot of grays in her hair; however she had lost some of her carelessness. She was more sure of herself. They saw that Kasra was still there. She had now fifteen published books; one of which was written by the request of her publisher about her critical view of past and present poetry in Iran. The film crew were there for two weeks. When they left, again they promised to send Neda a copy of the finished product. Iranian television decided to show both series of this one and the one from seven years prior back to back. However they edited so much of them that they were nothing like the copies Neda had seen.

After the American film crew left, Neda had time to enjoy the spring. Every spring she said that she felt the influence of the spring for the first time. Her arms glided the realm gracefully. Violets, she had planted them herself like many other flowers, bloomed in great profusion. Would she live to see them for ever or replace them every year? Her voice, her art, her writing, she thought, were incoherency of her inactions in spring. She spent more time out in nature than in writing. She picked up again her mountaineering.

Her mother was trying to get her and Sohrab to visit their father. He was now sixty eight years old. Mehri told them that he was sick. Was that a trick? Something strange her mother said that would not go away. He had come with pneumonia in winter and he was still sick. The doctor, same old doctor, that had delivered Neda's and Maryam's babies, had said that his lungs were filled with water.

One evening they had a family discussion at Neda's home. Sohrab was very adamant of not going. Maryam was neutral. To every one's surprise, it was Neda who insisted on a visit to their father.

"How are you going to visit a father who took you to the court for your money?" Sohrab was very angry. He banged the table with his fist.

Neda calmly poured a glass of wine for herself. She did not offer to anyone else. "They can get it if they want!" She said that to herself. But to Sohrab, after a long pause, she finally said composedly, very methodically, not in a manner that she always talked:

"Then I will be like him. The man is dying. I talked to his doctor the other day. He told me that our dad doesn't have much to live. He is our dad whether we wanted or not. Everything changed with Sima. I should have left him alone. The man wanted passion in his life. Our mother is not capable of it. I got that from her, not having passion for men. But at least I use all my passion for my writing. He would not have given me to that terrible marriage if I have left him alone." She paused for a moment, took a sip from her wine. She had made sure to put some emphasis on the words "our dad". Finally when everyone thought that she was finished, she said again:

"There are people who leave no impression in life; if they do, it is not as lasting as the imprints of your feet on sand. That is the life of our mother and father together. Whatever he is, she is not. What ever he is, we are not ; but he is our dad!"

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- Sixteen-✍✍✍✍ The Will

Both Sohrab and Maryam knew that they could not argue with Neda. They were aware of her generosity. Sohrab asked Neda:

"What about father? You know when he hears about all these, he'll be outrageous!"

Neda laughed:

"He lost that privilege by trapping me into a marriage only to get rid of me, he failed me when he gave my child away, and made the situation as though I had never given birth! I am only kind to those who are kind to me!"

Father had not seen Sohrab and Neda for the last six years. He never showed any interest to see them, or to see his grandson, Aria. Now this news, which was told to him by his first wife, Mehri, brought up the memory of his children back to him; not in a kind way, but a disgusting manner.

Neda always took care of her mother, Mehri. She had a monthly check from Neda, which would continue if Neda would die. So she was in her will, too. She had a permanent salary from her daughter as long as she lived. She did not have to ask Jalal, her husband, for spending money. Neda had taken her mother to a bank and opened a saving account for her. She told her mother that it should stay between the two of them. Then she said:

"Mom, if dad finds out about it, he'll take all the money from you; and that will result that I won't give you money anymore."

So Mehri was very careful that no one in her home knew about this arrangement between her and Neda. In the bank, she had given Neda's address as hers so the monthly statement would not go to her own house since Jalal always checked the mail.

Sima, father's second wife, was now completely in charge of the home. Her daughter, Mina, Neda's half sister, was now twelve years old. Mehri sometimes brought her to Neda's home. Neda loved her little sister, but not the way she loved her nephew. The two wives had found their right ways now, so they lived peacefully together. There was no more fight or envy between them.

Life, however, was very unpredictable. Neda had never thought that her father would be after her wealth. Why was he like this? Wasn't she her favorite child at one point? What had she done to him? Why had he ruined her life? Why? There were questions Neda asked herself that she would never find the answer! she wondered why her father was not happy for Sohrab, his only son, Mayam, and his grandson? She almost understood why he was not happy for her; if anyone made more money than him, he or she would be in her father's hate list!

He had a plan to take Neda to court! Mother told Neda about it. What could she do to get him out of her back? He had changed since his marriage to Sima; but that was fourteen years ago, when Neda was only sixteen years old. Now she was thirty. Wasn't fourteen years of animosity towards his own child, children enough?

Two years passed. The enmity continued. He did, by the way, take Neda to court. Neda had no choice but to hire a lawyer. Things dragged out; it was how the system worked. That was how lawyers made money. However, in the final analysis, one day Neda's lawyer called to tell her that everything was over and the judge's decision was that her father had no right to her wealth since she already had a will.

That evening when Sohrab and Maryam were there, Neda said with her own style of announcing things, without any prior warning, while Kasra, who was there all day, was not even told of:

"I won the case; the one that my own dad was after me and sued me!"

Everyone took a sigh of relief. Their lives were all in disarray because of this father- daughter dispute for the last two years. Then Neda continued:

"We celebrate tonight, even though I feel sad for father. By the way, I could not have won, if I didn't have a will. Can you believe that he had a right to all my wealth if there was no will."

Maryam and Sohrab were shocked to hear that. They had no idea that Neda had a will.

"Kasra, please bring my will. I think tonight is the right time to read it."

✍

In the moment of nihilism, the lavish breeze

Is torn between dark and light in an isle.

All prospective thunders please.

And the only inquisitive man is vile.

Within his absolute vain in darkness;

And the gift of nature are shown.

He doesn't see in his spiteful blindness-

Rain- flower, and a script on the stone.

The dissipative clouds are crowned in white;

Soaring majestically into sunset.

And the mountains near in site.

Naked and unrivaled, they are set.

A tremendous sensation, so to speak;

A sumptuous abyss, deep and profound.

The nihilistic exasperation of man isn't unique;

As it hasn't been for many ages around.

✍

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- Sixteen-☘☘☘☘The Will

Neda's life was a successful one; if only she could make it beautiful, too. Everyone that was familiar with her thought that she had a divine life. She had broken all the laws of the land by living alone, having a man friend that almost everyone knew that he was more than an editor to her. People said behind her back that she had a lover. Women envied her; men hated her; her father wanted her money. She was making so much money that her father, who had stolen all his wife's money for his business, could only dream of. But she did not care about the money.

Shortly after her conversation with Kasra and drawing her will, she bought the house that she had an eye on it for Sohrab and Maryam. She called them one day and asked them to take a day off from work. They both were astonished of this sudden request of Neda; but she was always unpredictable. No matter how much they insisted, Neda did not tell them the reason of her desire:

"If you love me, just do it; and don't ask me why!"

The next day they came to her house. She left Aria, doggy, and Ziba the cat at home with Kasra, who knew what was going on. He could not stop laughing, an indication that he knew the story of Neda wanting to go somewhere with her brother and cousin. At least Sohrab and Maryam's mind were at ease from Neda's good mood and Kasra's laughter that this mysterious event should not be a bad one.

She drove her car, a blue metallic Fiat. Mayam sat in front and Sohrab in the back. Everyone was silent in the car. Neda was wearing a mask on her face; she was thinking deep and heavy; the other two saw that mask; they thought to themselves if this thing was a pleasant one as they had seen kasra's laughter, why was Neda wearing her unusual mask? She stopped the car in front of the court house. All three went inside.

When they were all in the room to sign something which still was unknown to Sohrab and Maryam, the clerk of the court placed those documents in front of Maryam and Sohrab to sign. They finally understood what all these secrecy was about! Neda paid cash, all stacked in her big shoulder bag, and the house was her brother's and Maryam's now. They even did not know what house, how old of a house, how many bedrooms, or where it was located. Neda's lips were still sealed. When they finished, she drove them to the house and parked her car. Suddenly Maryam raised her voice and discharged a scream of happiness. She turned to Sohrab, her husband:

"This is the house I was telling you about! When we were looking for a house for Neda, this house was one of the one that we saw. I remember that I said to her that I wish we had money to buy it! Look, it's ours now!"

Sohrab had not seen the house, but if that was the dream house of his wife, it was good enough for him, too. Before going inside, the three hugged each other in a circle of ever unity and love.

"I don't know what to say, little sis..." Sohrab mumbled.

Neda answered: " Say nothing! You guys are the only one I have. Just go inside and look around. I wait up outside and have a cigarette."

Soon Neda helped them to move to their new home. She even bought them complete furniture for each room. Maryam questioned Neda:

"First the house, now the furniture?!"

"Furniture is the present for the new house!" Neda responded.

Jalal, their father, heard from Mehri the story of Neda's generosity towards her brother and Maryam. He almost turned blue. His anger was beyond measure.

"How come she never helps her old father?"

Mehri twitched in pain and for the first time said while Sima and Mina were present, too:

"You took my money and vomited on it. Now I have to live this terrible life because I don't have any money to support myself. Now you want her money, too, after what you did to her?"

Jalal was speechless. He knew Mehri was right. He knew that he was very greedy.

The day that Maryam and Sohrab moved to their own home, Maryam almost gasped for breath to have her dream home. She had always thought that Neda did not pay any attention to what people said or liked; but now she knew that she did, since Neda liked this house, too. Maryam remembered when the two of them had seen this house for the first time, both of them had showed so much excitement of its quaintness and beauty. She had been puzzled why Neda had not bought the house for herself. Now she knew. Yes, Neda paid attention to the people she loved and to their wants and likes! Yes, she recall led that how awestruck she had been to see that house, how she had said that she wished that they had money so they could buy that house. She was not certain though if this house was Neda's favorite, too or not; or she had not bought for herself because of what Maryam had said; and she knew that she would never find out about it. The day that they had closed the house and it had become theirs, Maryam told Neda:

" I feel like this is all a joke, but since I know you, I know it is not a joke."

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- Sixteen- ☀☀☀☀The Will

One day Neda asked Kasra to draw a will for her. He was confused by it, but not so much. She was only thirty one years old, He did not know how to do it, so he did some research. Neda asked him to keep it silent. "I trust you with every thing, Kasra!" Nothing about her surprised him. So with a help a lawyer, he made a will for her. Neda knew if something happened to her, according to law, everything she had which she had earned it herself, would go to her father; since specially she did not have a child, even though she had a child; because no place that child ever was registered in her name. It was never recorded that she even had given birth.

Kasra, wrote the will with the help of the lawyer exactly as Neda had asked him to. He did not question her, he did not ask her the reason, He just did it.

She willed everything she had or would have after her death from the royalties of her books to Aria, her nephew. That seemed the right and normal thing to do. Kasra full heartedly agreed with her. She picked Both Sohrab and Maryam as the executor of her will and also the guardian of Aria as long as he was a child until he would come to the age. But she did one more thing that made Kasra's eyes as wide as they could get with surprise. She willed the house she was living in to Kasra. She knew that he always admired this house. He had been a renter all his life. He had dedicated himself completely to her, not only editing, but all her other need. She left all her clothes, which now she had plenty, and many of her personal things, like custom jewelry to Goly, her Secretary, Goly. She had heard her say numerous times, every time that she went for a formal even or an interview:

"Oh, this is beautiful!"

Maryam and Neda used to be the same size, but after the birth of Aria, Maryam had gained some weight which she had a hard tome to lose it, being almost every evening at Neda's and eating her coking. Neda's cooking was like another art for her. The things she created mostly in her mind, were not the traditional Persian food, but like her poetry were her creation. Kasra told her:

"You're so generous, you're giving me your house!"

"You deserve it. Without you, I would not have a home or any books!"

"What about Mayam and Sohrab? " Kasrs asked. " You've given everything to Aria but not to them!"

Neda laughed, her hands locked on her back.

"The reason they're not in my will is because I have eyed a house close by and we're closing it next week in their names. So normal of her, yet so secretive.

For her no hypocritical thoughts came to debase the purity of her nephew, Aria, with his simple soul, led astray sometimes by a passion she had never known at her childhood. Sohrab and Maryam were her soul mates; Aria was her one pure love; and Kasra was an irreplaceable friend. She did one more thing. There was this orphanage by the Caspian Sea she visited often, and helped them financially. She set a pricey monthly payment for this orphanage which Kasra would be in charge of it. That is how much she trusted her friend. None of her companions knew that she was already involved with this orphanage and visited them at least once a month, and gave them money. Every time that she traveled North, to go there, she filled up her car with presents for every child in that place. She knew them by name, age, their grade. They all called her Aunt Neda. It used to Be Mrs. Neda. It took her along time to teach them that she was their benefactor and their aunt.

Kasra from now on was even more happy and devoted friend to her. He still wished to marry her, but he knew that would never happen. Before, he had thought that Neda was taking him for granted. Now he had proven wrong.

He thought he knew everything about Neda; but he never knew her intense search for her daughter, or her orphanage friends until the will was done. Every so often she would tell him:

"Buy me a ticket. I'm going to ..." He knew these trips were not to the orphanage, since she always drove there. It was only three hours drive. He never found out the purpose of these hurried travel, without announcement, without even telling Maryam and Sohrab. He was even suspicious on one point that she might have a lover somewhere, but why different cities! But no, that was not the Neda he knew. If she had a lover, she would tell him; that was the kind of person she was. He never was able to connect her daughter and these trips together. Her daughter subject was never brought up. It was a forbidden matter in Neda's household. It was even like a taboo. Kasra was even surprised that a woman like her, so sensitive, such an artist, such a great aunt to Aria, would never mention her daughter's name, to no one, not even to her brother or Maryam. This one issue about her puzzled him tremendously. When he read her poems, he would see someone with a broken heart, but as smart as he was, and as much as he knew her, he could not put all these signs together. In fact this was the subject of Sohrab and Maryam's Private conversation, too. Sohrab was confused like Kasra, but Maryam said to him;

"She hasn't forgotten Ariana; it's just this is just something so painful she does not want to talk about it. She wouldn't allow it!" Maryam was right. In her poetry, Kasra read her soul, the soul of a lost mother or lost daughter. However not talking about her daughter surprised all her companions.

"How can she forget?" they all would say amongst each other. Once Maryam said which Sohrab finally agreed with her:

'I understand her! Her daughter is a very a painful subject and a very private matter to her!"

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- Sixteen- ☗☗☗ ☗✖The Will

"Aunt Na, I don't like to sleep in that room!"

"I know my love; but you're getting a big boy now. You must!"

Kasra knew one thing, and he knew it well. He knew Neda even better than herself. He knew how to edit her books; and he had become an expert in it. Her writing, like her life, was messy, full of scratches, lines, arrows, and connecting one part at the top or middle or the bottom of the page to another part; which later she would not even understand what she had done. Sometimes she wrote at the edge of the notebook and drew a line and put an arrow at the end of the line. She, herself, mostly did not recall what all these lines and arrows were about; but she had Kasra to figure out all these for her. That was why he was paid. There was no way anyone could put her writings in a form of a finished product; only Kasra was able to do that. He was also able to figure her out, to know her mood swing, to know her wants and needs. Kasra did more for Neda than just being an editor. He would come in the morning, if he had not spent the night there. He would buy grocery on his way that no one had given him the list for them. He was there all day. He cooked the day that Neda did not feel like cooking. At this point he worked only for Neda. The publisher wanted him to. Neda's book was bringing a lot of profit for the publisher. He was paid both by the publisher and Neda. She was always generous with people that were her friends and helpers; she paid him very well. She never missed giving him his monthly check. She had never asked him about his family, his back ground, anything at all the years he had worked for her. He was as unknown to her now as he had been when he had started. He was given to her by her publisher and that had been the beginning of this strange relationship. If he was not there, sometimes she would call him early in the morning. She knew what time he would leave home. He had an old American car, a Chevrolet.

"Kasra, they all are coming here tonight for dinner!" She always spoke as she thought:

"Stop at the grocery store. What do you think we should make?" and on and on. And it was always Kasra, who would come with dinner plan and what kind of grocery they needed; what was for dessert; by the way they needed wine; and Neda needed cigarette.

So the statement that Kasra knew Neda better than herself and even her brother and Maryam, was very true. These days kasra besides editing her books, was the organizer of her writings, her shopper, her lover, sometimes her cook, and the person who knew all Neda's confidential business. He had also had become her fashion designer with he help of Goly, the secretary.

"You need a new outfit for next week interview." He would say to her. He even knew her size, her taste, and the colors she liked. Goly loved to help Kasra to buy a new outfit for Neda, since she was getting all her clothes from Neda. They were almost the same size.

On the other hand, Neda perhaps took him for granted. It was not only the friendship, being her editor, or lover that he wanted to be. He wanted more than that; but he never had the courage to tell her that he was in love with her for such a long time. It was hard to deal with a person like Neda, with the brilliant, yet scattered mind that she had. Kasra wanted to tell one day:

"Let's get married!" He knew that Neda would take that as a joke and laugh it out. Therefore he thought, "why bother!" He knew it was not his look since many times Neda had told him that he was a very handsome man. He was only eight years older than her, so he knew that was not an issue either. In the final analysis, he knew that Neda was not a person for commitment, marriage, taking some one's name, or identity. Her obligation was only to her writing and to her nephew. As well as Kasra knew her, there was something that he did not know about her and that was about her searches for her daughter. He recalled that even one time he questioned her about Ariana, and her answer was rude and angry:

"This subject should never be discussed again! do you understand?"

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- Sixteen- ☗☗☗ ☗The Will

"Are you okay? What is the matter?" Kasra was understandably concerned.

"Can you come here now?" Neda's breathing was heard heavy from the other side.

"Now!?" He questioned her. He knew what all these meant; on the other hand, he also knew that her mood might change by the time he was at her home!

"Now! I want you to hold me. I am so lonely!" Then she added:

"Be silent when you come. I don't want you to wake up Aria!"

Kasra did not have any objection to this offer. It had happened before. He knew of her ups and downs. He had entered Neda's home in the middle of night a few times. He always had the key.

He was there in thirty minutes. Neda heard his car; but she did not want him anymore. She did not know how to tell him; nonetheless, she had done it before. Kasra read her mind by just taking a glimpse at her. By now he was used to her whims and impulsion.

She remembered the times she had with Mansour. The only way she could go through Mansour's wanting her was drinking wine. They both sat on Neda's bed. Kasra brought a bottle of dry, red wine, Neda's favorite, and two glasses. They began drinking and talking about her work. He slowly and surreptitiously began touching her naked legs which were showing through her open robe. Then he removed her robe. Suddenly the shadows were deepened in the bedroom. Her radio was on and a soft song, one of her favorite which was called "Kiss me", and Vighen, again one of her favorite singer was singing it. Kasra turned off the lights. He knew her very well, never in light. The music in the radio grew stronger and turbulent, where the singer was saying, "for the last time", and then soft with entreaty. That was how she felt, like that music, "kiss me for the last time", while Kasra made love to her. The shadow grew deeper. The music filled the room. It floated out into night, losing itself in the silence of the upper air; and then... all of the sudden stopped.

Neda could not understand herself. She had called kasra to come, but like the days of her short marriage, she had to drink wine, she had to listen to music, so as not to hear his breathing, or any other sound from him, she had to concentrate on the words of the song and tell herself what stanza would be coming next, she had to have her room darkened. She had Kasra at her home almost every night, and she would call him just that one night that he was not there, and then she treated him the way she did, not a lover, but like some one that forcing himself on her.

She did not want to offend Kasra, whom she had waken up in the middle of night. She remembered that she had told him on the phone:

"Bring me to the mood!" Kasra did not need that announcement from her. That was the only way she could go through it; nevertheless, she seldom reached the climax. this particular night, she did not have to pretend. Often times she had to. He had become an expert to know Neda in and out. He knew what had happened to her in past; but it took an expert to find out how was it possible some one could need something so bad and a minute later could not even stand it. Sometimes Neda would tell him:

"I think you know me better than myself!"

So Kasra had learned to edit her books to her satisfaction, to bring her to her to the ultimate pleasure, the way she wanted it, a thrill that sounded more like an animal cry than a woman's occasional gratification. Neda remembered that how shy she had been at the beginning to ask Kasra about these intimate issues. But now that a few years had passed from the first, she was not shy anymore, as long as she drank wine, the light were off, and the radio was on.

They both smoked afterwards; even though Neda had forbidden herself to smoke in bed.

She slept peacefully that night. When she woke up, Kasra was not there; Aria was laying next to her. She turned around and kissed her little nephew.

To be continued

UNFULFILLED- Sixteen- ☗☗☗ The Will

Maryam was never a jealous type. What she told Sohrab was her true feeling about Neda's extreme love and attention to their son. She was thankful that her son had so much love all around him. After this conversation, they ended up to spend many nights at Neda'a home. Neda even offered them to move in with her. It was a tempting suggestion; but they wanted to have their privacy and independence once in a while.

Some nights after bathing Aria, Neda would wrap him in his blue towel, he had a dozen of them in the same color, and placed him on her chest, lay on the bed; The way she remembered they had put her daughter on her chest after birth! Most nights, they both fell asleep just like that. Oh, how easy it was to doze, dream, and even sleep when Aria was on her chest; and how heavenly it was to go to the deep, deep sleep, yes to sleep, something that would not come easy for Neda. This little boy and her poetry were the only purpose of her life now; everything else was on the periphery.

Mehri, her mother, and Zari, her aunt came to see their grandson, Aria, often. He would not go to them no matter how much Neda told him:

"Come on sweet heart, do it for Aunt Ne. Give your grandmas a kiss."

But no matter how much Neda insisted, Aria locked her hands around her neck, hid his head in her shoulder, and did not move. One day Mehri, her mother said:

"You could have made a very good mother!"

Neda almost turned blue. Her mother had never learned to be diplomatic. Zari noticed how the color of Neda's face changed. It was apparent that she was not in a happy mood anymore. After a long silence, she said to her mother:

"I'm a mother!" Then she walked out of the room while holding Aria close to her heart. She walked to the yard. A few tears glistened in her eyes and wetted her face.

"Aunt Ne cry! " Aria wiped the tears from Neda's face with his little hand, and kissed her.

"Aunt Ne bobo..."

Neda hugged him harder so much so that she heard an "ou" from him.

"Aunt Ne is sad." She answered her nephew.

These days nobody interfered with her life anymore. She had not seen her father, Sima, or half sister, Mina for the last four years.

Sometimes she thought about her childhood, about the relationship she had had with her father. She wondered how was it possible that if one loved his child once, that person could ignore or forget her, as her father had done first to her and then to Sohrab. She had not even seen his grandson, Aria, yet. She never asked her mother about her father, Sima, or Mina. Her mother did not ever say anything about them! Neda told Sohrab and Maryam one evening:

"I guess mother is used to her life now, and has accepted to be unimportant!"

Sohrab did not answer. Maryam grimaced, and Kasra hurriedly said:

"True, true, " Then he went to get the dessert from the kitchen.

Neda, who had always had a hard time to sleep; either she dreamt horrible dreams, or just sat and wrote with her bleeding pens, nowadays slept very peacefully every time that her nephew was next to her. He gave her such a serenity and uninterrupted calm that she could not even believe it herself. Just knowing that Aria was there, next to her, gave her such a harmony that there was no more nightmares, no more getting up and forgetting completely about sleeping while going to the yard and smoking nonstop. With Aria next to her, it was just a tranquil sleep while feeling his soft, gentle breathing. Occasionally he turned towards her in his sleep and unconsciously wrapped his little arms around her, as though he was afraid that she was gone. OH, how heavenly!

She promised Maryam and Sohrab that when Aria was at her home, she would let him sleep in his own room. She kept her promise. What an ordeal! The child would cry for hours before he would finally calm down in his own bed. When finally he was sleep, Neda could hear his breathing that still sounded like crying even in his sleep because of the prior crying. Then Neda would wait longer to make sure that he was not going to wake up; then she would get up and go to her own room. Sometimes this new process would take hours. The child and the aunt both were unhappy. By the time Neda was in her own bed, the insomnia would set in. The serenity was gone; the nightmares were back. But she knew it was the right thing. One night she felt so desperate and needy for love that she called Kasra, who happened to be spending that night at his own place, at two in the morning.

To Be continued: