She couldn't even complete the thought.
"What's wrong?" Cyra asked, tilting her head up at Arezoo with those overly perceptive eyes of hers.
"Nothing, sweetie. I was just thinking."
"Sad thoughts?" The little girl reached up with sandy hands. "You need a hug."
Arezoo bent down and accepted the embrace, sand and all. This was love untainted by complication—simple, pure, freely given. If only all affection could be so uncomplicated.
"Arezoo," her mother called from behind them.
She turned to see her mother standing at the edge of the sandbox with Yasmin.
"Maman." She straightened as Cyra ran to her own mother. "I thought you were in the house."
"Yasmin and I decided to come see how you were doing." Her mother's eyes turned to Ruvon, narrowing slightly. "Who is this?"
"This is Ruvon," Arezoo said, trying to keep her voice neutral. "He works for Kalugal and he's a friend of Drova's."
Ruvon rose to his feet and offered her mother a respectful nod. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Your daughter speaks highly of you."
It was a polite lie, but she appreciated the attempt at diplomacy.
"Does she?" Soraya's voice could have frozen the desert. "How nice."
An uncomfortable silence stretched until Drova, bless her complete lack of social awareness, broke it. "Ruvon and I invited Arezoo to join us at the Hobbit Bar tonight. Fenella, your newly discovered cousin, does these hilarious psychic readings that the whole village is talking about, and we thought it would be fun to see."
Arezoo wanted the ground to swallow her up as her mother's expression shifted from suspicious to thunderous.
"The bar," Soraya repeated flatly. "You invited my daughter to a bar."
"It's just for the entertainment," Ruvon said quickly.
"Thank you for the invitation," Soraya cut him off, her voice sharp enough to slice steel. "But Arezoo has responsibilities at home tonight. Come, daughter. It's time to go."
The dismissal was clear. Arezoo felt heat flood her face as she gathered her things, avoiding everyone's eyes.
"I'll call you," she managed to murmur to Ruvon as she passed.
His expression was understanding, sympathetic, and even. "Of course. Have a good evening."
As they walked away, Yasmin herding the protesting children, Arezoo could feel her mother's anger radiating like heat from a forge. The lecture would come later, she knew. For now, there was just this tense silence and the weight of conflicting expectations.
On the one hand, her mother wanted her to find a guy who would induce her transition, but on the other hand, she wanted to cloister her in the house. The two were mutually exclusive.
As her phone buzzed in her pocket, she pulled it out and saw a text:I understand. The invitation stands whenever you're ready. No pressure. - R
She deleted it before her mother could ask who was messaging her.
