I go into the bedroom, take out the mulberry dress, then put it back in its place. Mulberry, not blue. So, will you like it? Did I make a bad choice?
The truth is, if love can be considered a choice, I made a bad one choosing you.
In fact, it’s a betrayal. What I am doing is a betrayal, something despicable.
I am going to call you and cancel our appointment. I’ll make up any excuse. What do you and I have to do with each other after all these years? What will change if you see me or not? If you taste my cooking or not? I must be cured of you, must forget you and go on with my life, which I have deprived myself of living.
I will go to the hospital and see Aisha in her weak condition. Perhaps I will get an apology from her. Maybe she will say, “Forgive me,” and my eyes will well up with
