The Debt of Tamar by Dweck Nicole

Author:Dweck, Nicole [Dweck, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Devon House Press
Published: 2013-12-10T00:00:00+00:00

*

He returned home late that evening and discovered that Ayda had left, but only to go home and pack up her things—things that were now packed away in suitcases lined neatly against the wall. She was sitting on his couch wrapped in his terry cloth robe, her hair wet and her feet bare.

“You’re still here.” His eyes scanned the Louis Vuitton luggage lined up in the foyer. “You have no plans on leaving?”

“I don’t.” A moment of silence passed between them.

“What’s this?” She stood up and made her way towards him, then reached for the book he carried and flipped to the title page. “Anna Karenina.” She looked up and smiled. “One of my favorites. There was a big library.” She took out a cigarette and let it dangle between her fingers. “That was probably the only good thing at the orphanage.” She lit up and blew smoke away from them both.

“I’d prefer you didn’t smoke here.” His voice was flat.

She seemed to contemplate this for a moment before opening the window just a crack and flicking ashes over the wet street below. “I was interested in Russian literature.” She took a few more puffs then tossed the lean cigarette over the edge of the windowsill.

He was perturbed that she had the gall to smoke in his apartment, the nerve to shower in his bathroom and then saunter around in his robe, as though his place was her own. As though she belonged. Selim mumbled something under his breath, then headed out into the foyer. He was sad, especially this very day. He wanted to mourn the remainder of the day in solitude.

“I won’t be here all the time and I won’t get in your way,” she assured him as she followed him into the drawing room. “I’d like to stay here, with you.”

Selim stepped out onto the balcony and found himself engulfed in the night’s moisture. The street below was dark, lit only by a few flickering street lamps and the red taillights of passing vehicles.

The engine of a motorbike roared in the distance of his memory. Slow down, Brother. Slow down! Those last words before his brother’s death never ceased to haunt him. He swallowed the knot forming at the base of his throat. His palms gripped the iron railing and he found himself leaning against it with all his weight.

He spun around to face her. “Why?”

Ayda sat on his couch just a few feet away, leafing through the worn pages of Anna Karenina. After a moment, she looked up. “Because I like you, and I think you like me too.” She put down the book, made her way to his liquor cabinet, and poured herself a drink.

Watching her move, he was overcome with a tranquility he had not known for some time.

They sat beside one another for a few quiet minutes. He reached for her hand and weaved his fingers through hers. He realized that just by saying them, she’d made her words true.

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