54

— H O O R —

. . .

I sigh as I behold the beauty of the place Zahir has selected for us. For dinner.

It is vast. A table is set in the middle, holding dishes and a bottle of wine. The place is decorated with roses and I smell the pleasant and pretty fragrance of roses, mixed with the scent of burning candles.

Around us, there is nobody and I look behind, finding Zahir as he approaches me.

“Like what you see?” He asks me, standing beside me.

“I do. It’s so beautiful,” I say, smiling at him, “And it’s for me?” I doubt it, seriously.

He chuckles. “Then who can it be?” He raises his eyebrows, raising his arm to put on my shoulders like I am his childhood buddy.

“Who knows?” I play along, “What if you have someone else in your mind?”

“Or maybe in heart?” He adds, making me gape at him. Seriously? I was just joking.

“Tell me, you’re joking, Zahir,” I narrow my eyes, turning to face him whole.

“Or else?” He challenges me, facing me and giving me the same look.

“You don’t challenge m