Hoda Davoodi –  “Transition” Part one

Transition (Courage)
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
“Thanks for inviting me. I wanted to see you too, but you had blocked me everywhere.”
Sanaz felt that Mina was upset with her, so she explained, “I was very angry with you.”
And asked, “You look good, how are you?”
Mina smoothed the edge of her black sleeve unnecessarily and replied, “You could say I’m good… How about you?”
“Thank God, I’m fine too.”
As Mina looked around, she commented, “I like this place. The wooden tables and stone wall cladding give a natural vibe. You can hear water too. Had we come here before?”
“No, I found this place a while ago; it’s near my therapist’s office. I sometimes come here after my sessions.”
Pointing with her head towards the menu, she suggested, “Let’s order something.”
And casually browsing the cafe menu, she proposed, “How about two mochas?”
While Mina scanned the menu with her eyes, said, “Ummm… I’ll have an Americano.”
“I thought you liked mocha. So, one Americano, one mocha.”
While waiting for the waiter to arrive, Sanaz watched Mina’s face. Framed by unruly curly hair, her brown eyes appeared as large and innocent as a female calf’s, enhanced by her full, dark lashes. Mina’s nose had been beautifully done, and beneath it, her lips seemed fuller than the last time Sanaz had seen her, a change she did not like. The girlish makeup she wore made her look younger than the last time. At a height of 163 cm, she wasn’t overweight, but her oversized hoodie concealed this reality. A warm, sweet scent like orange blossom emanated from Mina. Sanaz silently thanked God that Mina had chosen a new perfume today, keeping her from being dragged back into the mire of memories. She thought seeing Mina would make her nostalgic, but the feeling she had was more like the sting of an unhealed wound being scratched open. She pushed the regret of arranging this meeting to the back of her mind and said, “Your face has changed. Your eyebrows look good microbladed. Is your hair dyed Navy blue?”
Mina gently corrected, “No, it’s carbon blue.”
Sanaz nodded appreciatively, half-jokingly and half-sarcastically asked, “How about me? Haven’t changed, except getting older, right?”
Mina swallowed her embarrassment and replied, “You’re the same as you were. You haven’t changed at all; neither in dressing nor in looks.”
Sanaz sighed audibly and said, ” I see some white hairs among mine but I’ll take your word as a compliment. Thanks.”
And continued, “What are you doing now? Still at that cafe?”
“No, I found another job.”
“What happened that you’re not working there anymore? You really liked that café.”
Mina shifted uncomfortably in her chair and scratched the back of her hand, “Just thought it was better to look for a job with better pay.”
“It’s good to change fields at your age to gain experience and see what you like. What are you doing now?”
Mina, disliking Sanaz’s all-knowing and advisory posture, tried to change the subject: “I became a sales support in a company. The income is better than the cafe… How about you? Still at the same place? I waited several times when you were supposed to arrive at the office, but I didn’t see you.”
As Mina looked hopefully into Sanaz’s eyes, Sanaz, devoid of emotion, said, “No, I’ve been dealing with family issues, so I took some leave and mostly worked remotely; that’s why I was seldom at the office.”
Mina asked with curiosity, “What happened?”
“Just family issues.”
Mina, expecting more explanation, simply replied with an “Aha.” and glanced outside through the café’s glass wall: “Looks like it’s going to rain.”
A few seconds of silence dominated the atmosphere. Under Sanaz’s indifferent gaze, Mina felt uncomfortable and, to escape it, surveyed the café: a cozy and quiet place. The only occupied table other than theirs was taken by a boy and girl enthusiastically playing Jenga. Sanaz took out her pack of cigarettes and lighter from her bag, gesturing towards them, “Do you mind?”
“Not at all, go ahead.”
She nodded in thanks and lit her cigarette.
Mina liked the feminine way Sanaz lit her cigarette. She took a deep drag that slightly wrinkled her forehead. Sanaz’s face indeed looked older. Her face lacked its former cheerfulness, and the lines around her
eyes and smile deepened when she talked. She seemed heavier than before, and her once prominent cheeks had lost some of their fullness, making the dark circles under her eyes more pronounced. This accentuated her Roman nose more than before. Her cupid-bow shaped lips, despite their dryness, retained their beauty. Her lustrous hair barely touched her collarbone and was habitually swept back from her forehead.
She took another drag and asked, “Where are you staying now?”
“I rented a room near Enghelab; it has a nice vibe.”
And she nodded her head affirmatively to make her statement more convincing.
“I thought you were staying with Soheil.”
Mina shaped her question in her mind: “Why aren’t you staying with Soheil?” and responded, “We didn’t have a place to stay together, so I got a room.”
“It’s good that it has a nice vibe. Are you getting along well?”
Mina pursed her lips and drew imaginary patterns on the dusty table surface while looking down, her voice laden with sadness, “We broke up.”
She looked at Sanaz for a trace of happiness but saw none. She knew Sanaz could well conceal her emotions. Sanaz reached out and held Mina’s hands, “I’m sorry. It must have been hard.”
Mina continued in the same tone, “Yes, very. He left me when I needed him most. Initially, he portrayed himself as a supporter, but when I told him what had happened that night and that I had nowhere to go, he backed off.”
As tears filled her eyes, Mina added with an innocent look, ” After that, I used to come to the office in the mornings hoping to see you… I’ve been thinking about you all this time.”
And with her free hand, she wiped a tear that had rolled down her cheek. Sanaz gently released Mina’s hand and leaned back in her chair. With a mild yet reproachful tone, she asked, “What did you want to say by seeing me, Mina?”
Like a shelterless kitten soaked in the rain, she sank deeper into her chair: “To tell you I’ve missed you and how much I regret what happened. To tell you how much I value you and how hurt I’ve been. You had blocked me everywhere. I was scared to come home, afraid you’d react badly, not wanting the neighbors to see our drama. I didn’t want to put you in danger, but sometimes I waited outside for two to three hours in the evenings to see you when you came home, yet I was afraid to ring your doorbell.”
Sanaz, with her mouth agape in astonishment at these words, furrowed her brows and erupted, “Why do you think I care that you were hurt or that you appreciate me? To hell with you and any ridiculous feeling you had. You appreciate me? You knew my worth? When you were sleeping with him, did you appreciate me then, or when you saw the bridge you were on was crumbling, did you think of me? Regret? What am I supposed to do with that? Or that the neighbors might find out we weren’t sisters but girlfriends, only putting me at risk How dare you talk to me like you did me a favor? Now I’m supposed to be upset that you missed me? Fuck you. Your victim pose disgusts me.”
T She took a deep breath to try to control her anger, but it didn’t help much. With emphasized pointing, she added,, “You did a good thing by not ringing the doorbell. I haven’t been well. Sometimes I fantasized about beating you and that guy to death. Often, I fought with you in my mind; I thought about suicide; I thought about revenge; I thought about running him over. It’s ridiculous, but sometimes I thought about reporting our relationship—sure, I’d get whipped…”She swallowed her saliva and continued with even more emphasis, “But the thought of you getting whipped cooled my heart. I did things I didn’t recognize myself doing. It was good you didn’t ring. It was good.”
“Sanaz, it wasn’t easy for me either, breaking up with you.”
Sanaz took several more deep breaths to regain her composure, ignoring Mina’s words, and continued, “What hurts me the most is that you knew how much I loved you and you did this to me.”
Mina, with her head down and playing with the edge of her sleeve, whispered, “I love you too, Sani.”
Sanaz angrily replied, “But as an option.”
Mina leaned forward to get closer to Sanaz and reach for her hand, but Sanaz withdrew her hand. From this gesture, Mina felt emptiness at the bottom of her heart. The waiter arrived with their orders. Sanaz lit another cigarette. Regretting her decision to come, Mina fiddled with her sleeve. Her chest tightened from the tension and anxiety. Like a helpless child, she looked at Sanaz, hoping she would say something.
Sanaz, looking at the space behind Mina, took several deep drags of her cigarette and finally said half angrily, half mournfully, “Do you know how painful it was to compare myself with that guy? All I thought about was what he had that I didn’t? Did he provide you with more comfort? Did he take better care of you? Did he value you more? You had become part of my family.”Sanaz bit her lip and wiped a tear from her cheek. She glared reproachfully at Mina. Mina sank deeper into her chair, her hands nervously intertwined and resting on her lap. As she stared into the dark contents of her glass, her voice filled with shame, “I’m sorry, Sanaz.”
Sanaz, her voice mixed with emotion, said, ” Sorry? Sorry is for when you accidentally kick someone’s foot. What should I forgive? That I wasted two years with you? That I compare myself to some worthless guy you preferred over me, and deep down, I feel less than him? That I think I can’t trust anyone anymore? I’ve even been embarrassed about my orientation lately. I’ve been thinking that everything related to me is ugly and should be hidden. You did this to me. You were the only one I was with…”
She covered her mouth with her hand and took a few shaky deep breaths. A wrinkle of disgust formed next to her nose as she continued, “You brought that guy into our bed, Mina. Do you know how strong my sense of smell is? The sheets smelled of foul testosterone; remember? What I don’t know is how long you pretended to love me while you were sleeping with him. I thought…”
She twisted her lips to swallow the words she was about to say. As her hands trembled with rage, she took another drag of her cigarette and said with vehemence, “You disgust me. You tore me apart for some cheap guy who easily left you.”
With the back of her hand holding the cigarette, she wiped her chin of tears lest they escape her throat. Mina, crumpled in her chair, sobbed silently, cursing herself for accepting this meeting.
Sanaz opened her mouth to say something but swallowed her words instead: “Fuck it.”
She stood up and walked toward the restroom. Mina felt like a child scolded by a parent. She placed her hand over her chest and massaged it as if to soothe her racing heart, muttering under her breath, “Yeah, fuck it.” The rain started, making the atmosphere gloomier. A soft but sad music played in the background. To Mina, things seemed irreparable and tragic. She wished she could escape from Sanaz’s disdainful look and reproachful tone. She felt mistreated more than she deserved.
“Damn you, Mina.”
She didn’t know if she said it because of her betrayal to Sanaz or because she had agreed to this tense meeting.
Sanaz returned with reddened eyes and softly said, “I’m sorry I lost control.”
Mina felt a little calmer hearing this. Sanaz sipped her coffee and gestured toward Mina’s drink, “Don’t let it get cold.”
And said, “The end of our relationship was very sudden, especially for me. I’d like to hear why you preferred him over me.”
Mina shifted in her chair, gathering courage, and cleared her throat, “Ummm… It wasn’t a preference, Sanaz. I was just drawn to someone who offered me things you didn’t. He was like a friend to me. I don’t even know how it happened that we did things that went beyond friendship. I was very lonely, and you were always busy with work. Even in bed, you talked about work. Like what you wanted to do, what happened at work, and stuff. It felt like work was the only issue in the world.”
Sanaz objected, “I asked you too. If you didn’t tell, it was because you didn’t want to, otherwise I asked you. Remember early in our relationship, when you felt guilty about breaking up with your mom? For two whole months, most of our conversations were about your mom. You were so important to me that I wanted to hear what you had to say. What you said doesn’t seem like a real reason because we talked a lot. Even if I really didn’t ask, you could always talk. Just like… we talked about your coworkers… um… about getting a cat… I asked nearly every day how your day was… about…”
Mina interrupted Sanaz’s words, “I couldn’t always. Remember that night we had good sex… um… it happened often that we had good sex, but I remember it was early summer. That night we took off the sheets because they were wet, and then we saw the bed was wet too; so we laid a blanket in the hall and slept there. I remember you were very hyper; you were talking about your experience, how much you enjoyed it, or what each position felt like for you. I enjoyed that night too, but I wanted to talk. I waited for your words to end, and I listened, but just when I wanted to talk, you said you were really tired and had to be at work on time tomorrow. If not always, most of the time, it felt like everything was about you.”
Sanaz opened her mouth to protest, but Mina continued, “Sanaz, I know it wasn’t always like this, but many times it happened that you didn’t wait to hear me. I’m not just talking about that. I censored myself in front of you. Work was so central for you that, when I talked about other issues like astrology or whatever else I found interesting for a while, you just listened until it was over. You didn’t give me the feeling that you really cared. You were just polite. Besides that, I never felt like I had a place as a partner for you. More often than not, I felt like you were an older sister I was sleeping with. You told me a thousand times to change my job. “Be successful.” Go learn programming or some other crap. It seemed like you weren’t satisfied with the position I was in. I don’t know… Maybe you had a problem with your girlfriend being a café cashier and you being a project manager in a big company. That broke my heart.”
Her tone softened, “Sorry I got angry, I just wanted you to know how it was from my side.”
Sanaz seemed unconvinced by Mina’s account of their relationship but complained, “Then why didn’t you ever try to tell me? … Anyway, whatever it is, it doesn’t give you the right to cheat.”
Mina said tenderly and seductively, “Of course it doesn’t. God knows how much I wish I could go back and not make the mistake I made. You were someone who loved me, and I caused myself to lose you. That was very hard for me.”
Sanaz hesitated about what she had in mind but said, “I missed you.”
Mina’s lips broke into a smile, eagerly saying, “I missed you too… and our sex.”
Sanaz smiled at the thought of Mina’s small breasts and slim waist, which her hand encircled. Mina, perhaps out of embarrassment or because of her unique way of seducing, kept her head down. She continued, “I masturbated to your profile picture. I really missed the things we used to do.”
She looked up to gauge Sanaz’s reaction. Sanaz, liking Mina’s delicate demeanor, rested her chin on her hand, smiling at her. Mina licked her lips, twisted in her seat, and searched her mind for the right words. She sipped her drink to buy time. Finally, she found the words, “We had something special. It’s too bad to let it go. Sani dear, can you give us another chance?”
Sanaz shook her head in denial, softly saying, “No, I can’t.”
She took a deep breath, leaned back in her chair, and continued with a more serious tone, “You talk about our special relationship, our sex, but you went to bed with someone else. Maybe if your relationship with him had worked out, you’d never look back. You weren’t the one who broke it off. That means a lot to me. If our relationship really mattered to you, you would never have risked it. I guessed you’d offer to get back together today, but I didn’t invite you for that. I don’t see you in my future. I called you because I wanted to end our
relationship properly. The blow I took from you really shook me. I can’t let it happen again.”
“Sani…”
Sanaz calmly but firmly cut her off, “Let me finish, Mina. There’s nothing you can do to restore my trust in you. I’ve been going through therapy. It helped me understand what I want and don’t want. A relationship with you isn’t something I want anymore. Our relationship ended suddenly and I didn’t give you a chance to explain, which kept you in my mind, and I had to construct scenarios to digest the events, but to move on, I need to end this relationship completely. There’s no going back for us.”
She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of orange blossoms and coffee, then exhaled with a sigh-like sound. Her gaze fell outside. The rain intensified, creating a soothing sound to her ears. Contrary to her previous assumption, she had managed to speak her mind. She finally felt at peace.
Mina, wiping her face with a tissue she picked up from the table, looked confused and sad. She said, “But Sanaz, you told me you still loved me. How can you talk about ending things now? It feels unfair to throw away all the good times we had over one mistake. I thought you invited me today so we could get back together, and I’ve spent the last few days imagining things going back to how they were. I can’t bear losing you again. It feels like I’m standing on a cliff and you’re pushing me off. At least let’s try, Sani.”
Mina leaned forward, attempting to take Sanaz’s hand. Sanaz circled her hand around her cup and replied, distressed, “Mina, we’ve been apart for six months. Why are you speaking as if I just suggested we break up today? I was the one pushed off the cliff. Contrary to what you’re saying, you’re doing fine. I’ve been trying to cope, and you were busy putting on lip gel and changing your hair color. I’m happy for you that you’re doing well, but I can’t bear to look you in the eye and talk as if I was the one who messed us up. You were the one… You were the one who broke the rules of our relationship, and now I’m the one pushing you? Why do you think giving me guilt can bring us back together? Even if your words work and we get back together, why do you think it could ever be like before? The image I had of you is tarnished. Now when I look at you, I don’t see the Mina I loved.”
Mina complained, “I wish you had told me why you invited me. Then I wouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”
Sanaz kindly said, “Mina dear, you could always have asked.”
And she added, “Is there anything else you’d like to say?”
Mina wiped a tear from her cheek and answered, “You treated me badly that night. I was crying in the street, dragging my suitcase. I didn’t know what to do next. At that moment, I felt helpless. Maybe you think I deserved it, but I never made you feel helpless. Besides that, I listened to you and never belittled you for your job. How are you going to make up for that?”
Sanaz nodded thoughtfully: “You’re right, we didn’t talk about this. My behavior was not right. It hurt both of us that night. I’m sorry for that.”
She drank her now cold beverage and added, “As for feeling lesser, your salary was barely meeting minimum wage requirements. Your tasks were numerous but non-specialized. There wasn’t much room for advancement in your job. You were always replaceable. Your income wasn’t enough that you could support yourself with retirement or savings at old age. Regarding your responsibilities too…”
Mina cut her off sharply, “I don’t want you to justify it.”
“Right, just let me explain briefly. You know I grew up in a traditional family. If I wanted a life different from the one I hated, I had to stand on my own. That’s why I was concerned about you too. You told me you were happy in this situation; it should have been enough for me, and I shouldn’t have made those suggestions, but I wasn’t embarrassed about you being a cashier. I really mean that. As for that night when your words stayed in your heart and I didn’t give you a chance to speak, I’m sorry for doing that to you; and for all the times I made you feel that I didn’t care about what you had to say. I didn’t realize the effect it had on you.”
She shook her head: “That’s all then. Anything else?”
“If there is, I can’t remember it right now. Oh yes, about the lip gel and hair dye. Two people briefly pushed me out of their lives. I took care of myself because feeling unwanted was suffocating me.”
Sanaz nodded empathetically and said, “It’s rainy. If you want, I can drop you off at the dormitory and then go home.”
“I’d like to sit a little longer.”
“Then I’ll settle the bill.”
She adjusted her scarf and stood up. She put on her raincoat and picked up her bag. Reaching out to Mina, who was watching her with sadness and resentment, she gave a gentle handshake. Sanaz kindly said, “Thanks for coming, Mina. I hope you have a good life.”
Mina replied coldly, “Goodbye.”
—
As Sanaz returned home from the cafe, her mind wandered elsewhere. She knew not where,
only that her full attention wasn’t on the present. Perhaps her subconscious was busy digesting today’s encounter. This wasn’t something she was certain of; it was just her best guess. Upon reaching her apartment, she changed her clothes as usual and checked the fridge for something to eat for dinner. A half-eaten pizza from the night before seemed inviting.
After dinner, she felt too drained for anything more strenuous, so she simply left the dish in the sink and lay down on her bed. It was only 8:30 PM, too early to sleep. She took a few deep breaths to try and regain focus. A chain of subconscious thoughts provoked different emotions: a sense of sadness on the way home, anger during dinner. After a few more deep breaths, the anger subsided and a sense of calm enveloped her. It seemed this calm was the result of moving past the storm that had upheaved her life recently—a period she had not expected to end so soon, and she had thought the grief over losing Mina would linger much longer. A smile crept onto her face. Although she had seen Mina less than an hour ago, she could no longer recall the exact features of her face. The color of her eyes and the shape of her jaw had faded from her memory. She could still remember the small brown mole on the right thigh, but not whether it was in front or on the side. Mina was fading from Sanaz’s memory.
She recalled her therapist’s words: “Sometimes we project the fantasy of the person we want onto our partner, and then see them not living up to that image, which is painful. A meeting can help dismantle that mental image and give us a clearer view of reality.”
Now seeing Mina shattered the idol she had built of her. Perhaps none of the memories Sanaz held of Mina were as significant for Mina as they were for her. Mina had chosen someone else over her. Surely, Mina’s feelings for their relationship had ended much earlier than Sanaz had realized. Now it was Sanaz’s turn. She felt empowered by this realization and thought it deserving of celebration. She got up to toast with a glass of wine but found only an empty bottle. She couldn’t remember the last time she had drunk wine. The bottle was beautiful, and she wanted to keep it, but as a symbolic gesture, she threw it away and bowed to an imaginary audience. This chapter of her life had started to close much earlier than she had anticipated. A sense of joy and anticipation filled her as she grabbed a cushion from the nearest couch as if it were a newborn, caressed it against her cheek, kissed it, and whispered into what would be the baby’s ear, “I did it, Mommy!” Holding it tighter, she repeated, “I did it.”
Now was the time to take the next steps into a new chapter of her life, and that thought alone was exhilarating yet daunting. Hours of therapy had convinced her that she had made the right decision for her future, but now that it was time to act on it, the weight of the responsibility coursed through her veins like blood. The disorder in her room irritated her. She took an alprazolam pill from the bedside table and swallowed it dry. Loudly, she said, “A little anxiety isn’t going to deter me.”
She clipped her short hair back and put away the books “Essential Answers to Difficult Questions About Adoption” and a few others back on the shelf. She picked up her clothes from the floor, sniffed them to gauge their dirtiness, placed relatively clean ones on the chair at her dressing table, and put the dirtier ones on the washing machine for a wash at the next opportunity. She drank a large glass of water to wash down the pill stuck in her throat. Her gaze fell on the sink. After washing the dishes of the past few days, she cleaned the fridge and wiped the stove. The heap of dirty clothes was an eyesore in her otherwise clean kitchen, so she threw them into the washing machine, but there wasn’t enough for a full load, so she added the clothes from the chair as well. The laundry detergent was just enough for this load. She emptied it into the machine’s dispenser. She wrote a shopping list on a sticky note and stuck it on the fridge door to remember to buy household items at the earliest opportunity. All the while, a nagging voice in her head marched: “What if you can’t invest enough time? What if you get tired? There’s no going back; are you really ready to be a mother? Can you ensure you won’t project the messy parts of your character onto an innocent child?”
She vacuumed the house and scrubbed the toilet bowl aggressively. After a hot shower, she finally felt the anxiety that had been woven around her body beginning to unravel, though the fear of taking on responsibility still clashed with the excitement of potentially hugging a child. Like a nurturing parent, she reassured herself: “You can do this, just as you’ve managed harder things before, but if you want, we can wait as long as you need.”
She wrapped a towel around herself and sat down at her laptop. To expel the last remnants of distressing thoughts, she shook her head from side to side and firmly stated, “I’m not perfect, but I’m enough. I might be flawed in many areas, but if Mina’s departure proved anything, it’s that I’m capable of change. I can learn new things.”
Without further delay, she typed in the address of the National Adoption System. She hesitated for a few seconds at the bottom of the page, debating whether to click “I have read and understand the content and agree” or “Back.” Choosing the first option, she officially started a new chapter in her life.