Hasrat

Hasrat 6

I enter the kitchen and leave the shopping bags there for now.

With my shoulders slumped from exhaustion, I go to my room.

Rasha is in his own room.

And somehow, as long as that man is in his room, I feel safe.

I change my clothes, putting on a white button-down men’s shirt and a pair of comfortable blue jeans.

I gather my long hair into a bun, making sure it doesn’t fall over my neck and shoulders.

I leave my room and head into the kitchen.

From behind the counter, I glance toward the living room.

Rasha is sprawled in front of the TV, flipping through channels.

The kitchen is completely exposed to the living room.

Damn it!

I frown.

I’m not going to spend an entire year living inside my room.

One year is too long to spend hiding.

Don’t be afraid!!!

I shake my head.

I roll up my sleeves and start organizing the kitchen the way I like it.

I put the groceries into the refrigerator.

I neatly arrange the potatoes and onions in their baskets beside the cabinets.

I check every cabinet to see what he has.

Pans...

Plates...

Appliances...

Thank God this man actually has a fully equipped kitchen!!!

For dinner, I decide to make kotlet.

I grate the potatoes and onions and squeeze out the excess liquid.

Then I add the ground meat.

I prepare the mixture and place the pan on the stove, adding oil.

I turn on the hood.

Once the oil is hot, I start frying the kotlets.

I happily watch each crispy kotlet come out of the pan.

I hum a song quietly under my breath.

I’m completely lost in my own little world when Rasha’s voice makes me jump.

—Who’s Alireza?

I turn around in surprise.

Seriously?!

Where did he come from?!

I look at him.

He has picked up my phone from the counter.

He holds it in front of me.

I stare at Alireza’s name appearing on the screen as it lights up.

I try to answer confidently.

Why should he care who Alireza is?!

It’s none of his business!

So I lift my chin.

—None of your business.

His eyebrows rise at my sudden boldness.

His expression turns serious.

He takes one step toward me.

My heart drops into my stomach.

Girl...

You’re so terrified of him.

Why are you suddenly trying to act brave?!

He comes closer.

I move my hands nervously and stumble over my words.

This time, more politely.

—I mean... why do you want to know who he is?

He comes even closer and stops directly in front of me.

The deep furrow between his eyebrows makes his expression even more serious.

Immediately, I soften my tone.

My hand grips the edge of the counter.

—I mean... um... why are you curious about who he is?

His hand suddenly rises.

I instinctively throw my hands in front of my face and let out a small scream.

But...

Instead, his hand reaches toward the plate.

He casually picks up a kotlet and puts it into his mouth.

My mouth falls open.

I stare at him.

He ate my food?!

The corner of his lips lifts.

Again, he looks at me with that amused expression.

Still chewing my kotlet like he owns the place, he raises my phone and presses the green call button.

My eyes widen.

I reach for the phone, but he pulls his hand back.

—What are you—

He puts the call on speaker.

My mouth snaps shut.

Alireza’s voice fills the kitchen.

—Hello? Nafas?!

I say nothing.

I’m in shock!

Rasha shakes the phone in front of my face.

As if saying, *Talk.*

What the hell is wrong with this guy?!

—Nafas ,dear? Can you hear me?

Rasha’s eyebrows rise at the way Alireza says dear to me..

His lips tilt downward slightly, as if he has just discovered something.

Flustered, I finally speak.

—Hello... yes?

—Why weren’t you saying anything?

—Um... my hands were busy.

Without handing me the phone, Rasha takes another kotlet and starts eating it.

He holds my phone in one hand.

Steals my kotlets with the other.

And listens to my private conversation!!!

—Nafas... Arin keeps asking about you. He misses you. If you can’t go see him, at least give him a call. It’ll make him feel better.

Rasha gives a crooked smile.

Why is this man smiling?!

—Okay. I’ll call him.

—Alright, then. Take care... Oh, by the way... that big, hornless monster didn’t hurt you, did he?!

My eyes widen.

I look at the monster standing in front of me.

The corner of his lips lifts when he sees how frightened I am.

I quickly answer,

—No... no! Do you need anything else?

—No, that’s all. Take care—

A continuous beep fills the kitchen.

Rasha tosses the phone back into my arms.

I catch it again in midair.

I slowly raise my eyes to look at him.

Calm.

Not even slightly angry.

His hands slip back into the pockets of his black sweatpants.

—You’ve got quite a lot of men around you.

He pauses.

—Alireza...

Another pause.

—Arin...

And another.

—Zand.

My alarm bells go off.

—How do you know Zand?!

He casually shrugs.

—Why shouldn’t I know him?

He pauses.

—He’s the architect at my company.

My mouth falls open.

Zand...

With all his arrogance and sophistication...

is the architect working under Rasha?!

The same man who talked to me about the piano?

The same man who looked like he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth?

That man works for Rasha?!

Then who the hell is Rasha?!

—You don’t look like someone who deals with this many men.

His eyes move over me from head to toe.

There’s a hint of contempt in his gaze.

—You look very innocent...

He pauses.

—But I guess you can’t judge someone by their appearance.

He casually walks out of the kitchen.

I slap both hands against my face in frustration at this arrogant, shameless man.

Then I kick the cabinet door.

—Ow!!!

I hop around on one foot, holding my injured leg as the pain shoots through it.

***********

I stand hesitantly in front of the mansion gates… chewing on my lip… talking to myself.

Why did I come back here when I already know no one is waiting for me?

I hold my breath just as my finger is about to press the doorbell.

Then I see Mr Ali, the kind gardener. He notices me standing behind the large iron gates of Grandpa’s mansion. He quickly puts down whatever he’s holding and walks toward me. He opens the gate only a little, as if he doesn’t want me to come inside… as if I’m an unwanted guest.

I give him a weak smile.

“Hello, Mr Ali…”

He looks at me uncertainly.

“Are you well, miss?”

“Thank you…”

I stare at the garden. He understands what my eyes are asking. Looking ashamed, he says:

“I’m sorry… but Mr. Afaq ordered us not to let you into the mansion.”

A wave of humiliation washes over me from head to toe. I press my lips together tightly… from the loneliness of it. I nod.

“I understand. I shouldn’t have come. I’ve put you in a difficult position too.”

He looks at me with sadness and pity.

This gardener feels sorry for me as well… this man who has witnessed every single humiliation I’ve suffered in this mansion since the day I was born.

I don’t want to see the pity in his eyes, so I say goodbye and walk away from the mansion… away from those bad memories… those bitter memories.

A light rain is falling, and I have no desire to escape getting wet. I walk. I don’t know how far I go. I’m not afraid of the rain. I don’t know how much time passes. I keep walking until my feet are exhausted, then I sit down on a wet black-and-white curb in some alley. I curl into myself.

I’m his granddaughter… why won’t he accept me? Why does he hate me so much? I never did anything to him…Others think I live like a princess... I smile bitterly.

A lump forms in my throat. Loneliness wraps its arms around me. Loneliness won’t leave me alone.