Burn the truth (ENG)

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"-what do you mean two months have passed?"  I heard Imran hiss from the living room.

I hoisted my bag over my shoulder and walked down the stairs.  The sound of my heels echoed through the house.

My eyes slid to Imran and I saw that he was on the phone.

He paced back and forth with his hand in his hair in frustration.  His gray sweatpants hung low around his hips and his blue shirt was oversized.

Imran frowned deeply.  "I'm not going to leave her."

I glanced at the clock and saw that I had to get out of the house now.  With big strides, I walked towards Imran and saw him looking up.

He mumbled something on the phone and hung up.  His eyes rolled over my figure.  "Where are you going?"

"Therapy," I answered and put on my coat.  "I'll be back around three."

He grabbed my wrist before I could walk away and pulled me towards him.  He wrapped an arm around my waist and let his free hand outline my jaw as his thumb smoothed out my lower lip.

He suddenly beamed and my breath left me wondering how anyone could be so beautiful.

I leaned closer, my eyes billowing shut and I felt the slightest blow of his lips against mine.

My grimace was immediately apparent as I pulled back to the sound of his ringtone.

Imran seemed to suppress a groan as he grumbled about interruptions.  He took a step away from me and my lips pried from where they briefly brushed his.

"It must be important. Pick up."  I pressed my lips to his cheek and walked out of the house.

~

Lousia placed her cup on the table and sat down in her desk chair.  "Zara, I want you to describe the relationship between you and Imran."

I nodded slowly and sat up straight.  "I'm happy with him. He makes me feel comfortable in his presence. I feel safe and loved with him. I smile more and open up easily. He knows what I'm feeling, without me having to tell him."  A sigh left my mouth.  "Imran is my home, Louisa."

Lousia held her cup of tea to her lips and took a sip.  "What was it like before you met Imran?"

"I-" A lump formed in my throat as I fiddled with my fingers nervously.  I hadn't told anyone this until now.  "There were times when I felt lonely," I admitted.

Louisa blinked as she thought.  "Before the incident?"  she finally asked.

I nodded and beamed at my head on the table.  Memories flash by.  "I would lay on my bed, staring aimlessly at the wall in an empty house. My parents worked late and Faid was always outside playing with his friends."

"Didn't you have any friends?"  Louisa asked, interested.

I shook my head slowly.  "I- I was really bad at making friends. Always closed. No interest in others or their problems. I tried to put as much focus on myself as possible. Make up my own goals and dreams. My wishes. My will."

"I can imagine that," Lousia nodded as she stared at me.

I looked away.  "We rarely ate together as a family. We didn't go on vacation. There was hardly any family activity."

My eyes started to sting, but I suppressed the tears.

"Don't you have any contact with relatives?"

I bit my lip as I stared at my head.  "My mother had a sister. However, their relationship was flawed. We lived in the same area but had no contact. I can easily remember the day they argued about something. They avoided each other ever since."

"And your father?"  I heard Louisa ask softly.

"My father had no siblings. However, his parents lived abroad."

Louisa crossed her legs and leaned forward.  "Will you describe them to me?"

"When our parents were alive, they called every now and then to ask how things were going. Since my father died, they have cut off contact."

Louisa frowned.  "What happened to Faid and you after your parents passed away?"

"After my parents passed away, my aunt didn't say a word about herself and we decided not to ask her for help. Faid took care of the income and I took care of the house, cleaning and meals," I answered emotionlessly.

"That doesn't seem smooth to me," Louisa remarked.

I pressed my lips together.  "It wasn't. We went through hard times. We had no house, no money and no food."

"Is that why faid means so much to you?"  Louisia asked suddenly.

I nodded.  "Faid has been my only support to this day."

"And Imran?"

A frown formed between my lips as I looked questioningly ahead.  "I- I don't know."

Lousia crossed her arms as she leaned her elbows against her desk.  "Don't you think it's because he showed so much interest in you? You loved the attention. Imran was someone you could talk to. Someone who loved you and had intentions never to leave you."

I avoided eye contact and swallowed.

"Zara, you can't make of people houses," I heard Louisa mumble.  "People are rivers, always changing, always flowing. They will disappear with whatever you put into them."

My eyes flashed abruptly to Louisa's.  "Imran will never leave me."  My voice sounded chilly and cold.

Louisa held my hand carefully.  "You don't know that, Zara."

I bit my lip.  Hard.

Imran would never do that to me.

I took my hand out of her grasp.  "Yes," I stated firmly.

"Your house has a heartbeat, but it's not locked in someone else's chest."  She held her hand to her chest.  "Look into your own. You are your own home, Zara."

~

I was happily preparing a meal for tonight in the kitchen when the bell rang.

My eyes rolled to the clock and I frowned in confusion.  Imran is still working.

I dried my hands with a towel and left the kitchen.

Arriving in the hallway, I opened the door and came face to face with a pair of brown-green eyes.

I stiffened instinctively and blinked to make sure this wasn't a dream or hallucination.

In front of me was still the fifty-year-old six-foot-tall brunnet who, with her lean curves and lanky legs, could pass for a model.

Those brown-green eyes stared down at me like a mirror and stood out even more than her wrinkle-free forehead, with freckles so faint you could barely see them on her rosy, pale skin.

Her honey-colored hair was windy like she was ready for a photo shoot.

With an expensive bag on her arm and her shiny heels, she looked at me coldly.

A lump formed in my throat.

She pressed her lips together in discontent as her eyes rolled over my figure.  "Hello, Zara."

I let go of the door and took a step back.  "Lidia?"  I muttered under my breath.

Imran's mother was at the door.