4. Lev—Age 22

Chapter 4

Lev—Age 22

Hospital

Iwatched as Azadeh held her mother’s hand, trying to stay strong for everyone while pushing back her own fears. Her brother Dariyus was pacing, voice raised, speaking rapidly in Persian. I assumed from the reaction of their youngest sister, Mona, that his words were more in line with the vile nature of the language. Even while drowning in the depths of sorrow, Azadeh still held the radiance of the sun.

She rose from beside her mother’s bed as the nurse came in to administer medication not designed for healing but for comfort. My heart broke for my Beauty, another loss for a girl who’d already lost so much. I watched as she said something to her brother and turned to the door.

When Azadeh spotted me, she offered a shy wave and a small smile—a dim comparison to when she saw Cyrus or Zeke. My heart quickened with every step she took toward me, and I was reminded of how much power this girl held over me.

Usually, I wouldn’t be caught dead in a hospital. My earliest memories of the institutions were muddled with blood, loss, and devastation. But I’d overheard Azadeh speaking to Zeke about how the hospital would be filled with family and friends stopping by to lend a hand and provide an ear if they were in Iran. Her voice broke when she spoke about the sense of community in Iran she would never hope to find here. I knew that friends were a source of support in times of sadness and joy in Azadeh’s culture. Since her family didn’t have those bonds in America, I wanted to be that support, even in a small way.

“Thank you for coming, Lev,” she whispered.

I nodded, swallowing the tightness in my throat, unable to form words. Talking wasn’t my forte, but my brain forgot how to vocalize when it came to Azadeh.

Azadeh’s face scrunched as if she were pondering how to salvage an uncomfortable situation. I wanted to kick my ass for being so awkward around her. How hard would it be to simply say, “I’m sorry about your mom, Azadeh.”

“Az!” Cyrus and Zeke shouted in unison as they barreled out of the elevator to where Azadeh and I were standing.

Zeke rushed to her and wrapped his arms around her. Azadeh placed her head on his shoulder, trembling as she fisted the back of his hoodie. Another pang of jealousy festered in my soul at how easy it was for Zeke to comfort her.

Zeke rubbed her back and cooed in her ear, “It’s okay, Princess. It’s all gonna be okay.”

“They’ve gotta be able to do something, right?” Cyrus demanded, fidgeting with the platinum zippo in his hand.

“Are you fuckin’ crazy playing with that here?” I growled.

Cyrus eyed the hospital staff to see if anyone was watching his stupidity. He glared at me for a moment before the left side of his lips curled up in one of those idiotically charming smiles. “Don’t worry. I’m not suicidal,” he said as he flipped the zippo open and closed. “I won’t ignite it. Wouldn’t want us to blow up or anything.”

Azadeh laughed at Cyrus, and a hundred-pound weight lifted off my chest. I was happy he’d put a smile on her face, but I couldn’t help wishing it was me who’d done it.

Zeke kept his arm around her shoulders and tucked her against him protectively. “How’s your maman?”

Azadeh inhaled a shaky breath as if desperate to hold her tears at bay. “She’s dying, Ezekiel. She’s dying, and there’s nothing I can do. I can’t even afford to get her a private room away from the loud woman. Her insurance only covered semi-private, and when we checked, the prices of a private room started at ten thousand a night. Dariyus says he can get the money, but I have no idea what he’d have to do to get it, and I don’t want my mother’s last thoughts of her son to be disappointment.”

Azadeh buried her face in her hands and gently sobbed. The only emotion her sorrow forced out of me was irrational anger. I was tired of life constantly dealing blow after blow to the people I cared about and my ingrained inability to express sympathy or any attempt at comfort. I couldn’t stand by and listen to her wail when I was too helpless and pathetic to do anything for her.

So I walked away.