Page 70 of Because of Me

“Can we all sit?” she asks. Her voice is different. A little higher pitched than normal. Her hands fall into her lap, and even though the table blocks my view I’m certain she’s pinching her fingers. She always does when she’s nervous.

I sit next to her, dropping my hand onto her knee. She jerks it off, staring at me but darting her eyes towards her father. Got it. I clasp my hands together on the table in front of me.

Mr Solak grunts again as he sits, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s ever happy. Certainly hasn’t seemed that way the few times I’ve met him. We continue the painful silence while Emel potters in the kitchen. When she returns, I stand to take the tray of drinks from her. Once it’s on the table, I turn to Amira for guidance. The double teapot is steaming, surrounded by four delicate cups and a bowl of cinnamon sticks. Amira begins to pour the drinks as her mother places a plate of food in the centre of the table. Amira’s baklava has been added to a spread of ring-shaped pastries and deep pink cubes coated in fine sugary powder.

“It’s lokum,” Emel grins. “Turkish delight, my grandmother’s recipe.”

Amira snatches the biggest piece, kicking me with her leg. Tentatively, I choose a piece for myself and take a bite. The delicate candy is soft and sweet. I find myself tasting it like I would an expensive wine. Searching for hidden flavours amongst the rich fruity taste and finding hints of lemon and honey that coat my mouth until my tastebuds are begging for more.

I hum my appreciation as I finish the piece. “That’s delicious. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

Emel shimmies with pride before settling into her seat.

“So,” Mr Solak begins. His tone is intimidating and gruff. I feel like a teenage boy all over again. Amira tenses beside me, so I press my leg against hers, trying to show her I’m here, and whatever he says, however he reacts, we’re in this together. “You want to date my daughter.”

“Respectfully,Baba, we are dating. I’m an adult, not a child.”

I gulp at my tea, the glass is hot against my fingertips and the liquid is boiling, but the burning sensation is a pleasant distraction from the pounding in my ears. Across the table from me, Emel tips her head in a gentle nod in my direction. Her easy smile leaves tiny wrinkles around her eyes. They remind me of Amira’s. Deep brown with a hint of something most people would call hazel. But that does nothing to describe their beauty. It’s like getting lost in the bush, surrounded by towering gum trees and overgrown ferns. I wonder, if I make Amira laugh enough, will her eyes crinkle in the same way? Will they hold this much love and kindness?

They will, and I’m determined to see it.

I clear my throat as I place my tea back on the table. I keep my fingers wrapped around the tulip-shaped cup, focusing on the warmth soaking through my palms instead of the icy chill running down my spine. “Mr Solak, I understand you had big plans for your daughter, and I’m truly sorry if you feel like I’m in the way of them. But I promise you, I will do everything in my power, every day, to make Amira feel as happy and loved as she deserves.”

He scoffs. “Do not claim you are sorry. I was a young man once, too, you forget. I believe you care for my daughter, but you are not sorry. Tell me, truthfully, what it was that made you want to be with Amira?”

This man sees through the subtle lie better than Ella saw through Amira’s big lie. I start my sentence three times before I find the right words. No point lying or trying to sugarcoat the truth. I’ve been in love with Amira for years, I might as well tell them. I find Amira’s hand on the table and cover it with my own. For a fraction of a second, her fingers tense under mine. Her forearm twitches as she tries to pull her hand away, but I hold it still.

“Years ago, I helped my cousin Cassidy move into Amira’s apartment. Or I was meant to help. I carried one box up the stairs before I found myself utterly transfixed by Amira. She was shy and a little standoffish, but her presence lit up the room and I was completely drawn to her. We said all of five words to one another before Cassidy was dragging me down the stairs to carry another box. All day, every time I caught a glimpse of your daughter, I was awestruck. She was—is—beautiful, but I knew there was more to her than her looks. But I lived in Sydney. For years I couldn’t get her out of my head, until a series of unfortunate events—or fortunate, in a way—led me back here. To Melbourne, sure. But also, to Amira.” I squeeze her hand and turn to her as I finish. “My reasons for dating your daughter are entirely selfish. I love her and I have from the moment I laid eyes on her. The past few months have only solidified that. I know now what drew me to her all those years ago. She’s kind and courageous. She always puts other people first and she cares so damn much. She knows how to fill a dark moment with just the right amount of humour, and how to brighten a day with nothing more than her presence and a smile. She cares for my cat better than I know how, and she fights for her dreams.”

Emel sighs. A big fat happy kind of exhale, and when I look at her, I’m certain her eyes are glistening. She waves her hand in front of her face, batting my attention away. Next to her, Mr Solak stares me down. But the crease between his brows has thinned out a little and his posture has softened. He hums a deep gravelly sound as he uncrosses his arms and reaches for a piece of Emel’s decadent lokum.

When neither of them speak, I continue. “You probably want to know if I’m worthy of your daughter. I don’t blame you. But honestly, I don’t know if I am. She is everything and more, and I’m just … me. I’m the man I am today because of luck. I didn’t even know my grandmother and she left me a whole winery in her will. I met Amira because my cousin happened to know a friend of a friend who needed a roommate all those years ago. My life so far has fallen into place, but I will work every day to earn my seat beside Amira’s at whatever table she chooses to sit at.”

“All this time?” Amira whispers beside me.

I turn to her. “Yeah,” I whisper back. Her lower lip trembles and a tear trickles down her cheek. There’s a rational part of my brain saying physical contact in front of her father might not be the best idea, but I can’t not. I wipe the tear from her cheek with my thumb and let my palm linger under her jaw. “All this time.”

She smiles, and her eyes crinkle up just like her mother’s. And maybe I never noticed it, or maybe I was never looking. Or maybe—and I’m pretty sure this is the one—she’s just never smiled that big before.

“Okay.” My Solak’s voice is sharp, shocking my attention back to him. He holds his wife’s hand over the table, mirroring the way I’m holding his daughter’s. “I believe you.”

AMIRA

“I’m definitely taking this bedroom.” Ella leans against the doorway, taking in my near empty room.

I’ve left the bed, since Noah already has one that actually fits the two of us. Even if we end up hugging all night anyway the mattress is a million times better and the bedhead doesn’t bang against the wall when we get a little … rough.

I haven’t spent a night here in the apartment since that day we had tea with my parents. And after two weeks of me living out of a bag, Noah finally asked if I wanted to move in with him. For real this time. It’s a little sad, leaving the apartment behind, but Ella will take good care of her.

“Callum will help with the rent until you find someone if you need,” I offer. I haven’t actually asked him, but it’ll be fine. The man has more money than he knows what to do with anyway.

Ella scrunches up her nose. “Ugh, I don’t need a handout from some rich guy I don’t know. A friend of a friend has a cousin moving down from Sydney. We’ve spoken on socials and she’s going to move in next week. It’ll be fun.”

It will be. Ella’s excitement reminds me of my own when I first moved in here. A small sliver of freedom from a family so overbearing it hurts sometimes. I’m slowly learning they mean well, but having my own space has been a lifesaver. Although Ella has never seemed to feel the pressure as much as me, I hope being here on her own offers her a little of the same luxury.

“Come on,” she says as she grabs one of the last two boxes off the bed. “Noah’s probably waiting for you.”

“He’s probably halfway up the stairs to help with these.” The last box is light, the final few odd bits from the bedroom. The purple blanket I keep draped on the end of the bed, even through summer. The fluffy matching pillows. One of them still smells like Noah. I hadn’t washed it, wanting to savour the scent as long as possible. I suppose I can run it through the machine now that I’ll be spending every day soaking in the hint of spice behind his dark fruity cologne. It reminds me of the winery, but I’ve never stopped to wonder which came first. It doesn’t matter, in the end, since it’s mine to enjoy either way.

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