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"Amir... Hassana is dead."
A sharp sound pierced into my skull, the champagne glass, shattered at my feet. I froze and stared at her. Her straight spine, crossed legs, her face was a composed mask, there was something about her calm passivity that irritated me, scraped my spirit. I boiled over, righteously.
"Stop that." Two words.
She looked at me, her face squeezed into a question mark.
I started breathing heavily. My throat tightened. I swallowed a rock. "Stop. Stop lying to me! Stop fucking with me! What do you mean she's dead?!"
My organs were dead, my heart was on fire and my soul was writhing.
She's lying. She's lying. She HAS to be lying.
"I don't believe you." I spat out, my breathing ragged. "Don't. Don't think you can come here and say crap like that!"
She stared at me, a sad broken look that only made me angrier. "Why would I lie to you, Amir?"
I fisted and unfisted my trembling hands. It's not true. It's not true. It's not true, because I can't lose her. I can't lose her. I can't lose another person that's important to me. Not again. Not again. Never again.
"I don't know. I don't know and it's not true!"
I swayed on my feet, gravity disintegrated and the earth tilted on its axis.
She's not dead. She's not dead. She can't be dead.
"I don't believe you." I whispered. I looked at her.
She reached out to touch my hand, i flinched, glared at her. "Leave."
She sighed, shook her head, inhaled a shaky breath. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you."
"Grab your shit and leave!"
"Don't yell at me!" She shouted.
Her sharp, angry voice spread fire across my veins. She stood up, her eyes, fiery, angry. "No one yells at me! I understand you're hurt and angry and probably in denial but that does not give you to yell at me!" She inhaled, trembling, closed her eyes and clenched her fist around her chest. When she opened her eyes, there were tears, spilling out and she didn't look as composed anymore. "I... I lost my best friend, Amir. Do you know how it feels?" She whispered, her eyes, downcast, breathing laboured. Her voice, the bitter sorrow in it, tied me in knots. "I lost my best friend and I'm hurting too. I understand how you feel. Believe me."
No. No, you don't. You don't understand anything!
"She left you a letter." She continued. She sat back on the stool, crossed her legs and slid an envelope across the table to me.
I took it frantically, my hands, vibrating with anxiety that frightened me. I tore it open and read.
