Page 42 of Oliver
Zahra and her mom took off giggling, arms linked as they joined Parisa and her bridesmaids at the bar. Mr. Nazarian watched them with an amused expression and a wistful sigh.
“It can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but that side of them keeps life interesting.” Then he turned to me. “I don’t assume I can convince you to call me Kamran?”
I chuckled quietly. “No such luck.”
“Worth a shot.” He shrugged. "I've been following your academic career, you know."
"You have?" I couldn't hide my surprise.
He nodded, a proud smile spreading across his face. "I read all your publications. Can't understand half of it, of course—all that quantum theory and astrophysics goes way over my head. But I always knew you were going to do something important."
"Thank you, sir. That means a lot." The unexpected praise created a warm spot in my chest that I wasn't prepared for.
"That paper you published last year on—what was it—relativistic effects on…quantum…something...” He trailed off, brow furrowed in thought, and I bit my tongue, not wanting to come off as impertinent by correcting him. “Anyway, I had it printed out and showed it to everyone at work. Told them how you used to sit at my dining table with star charts and meteorite shards, that you never gave up on your dreams, and look at you now.”
“Those afternoons at your house are some of the best memories I have from that time,” I said quietly, a familiar ache in my chest. I received more affection in a single day in Zahra’s home than in my entire time under my parents’ roof.
Kamran’s features softened, and his hand returned to my shoulder with an assuring squeeze. “I've always been proud of you, son.”
The words hit me with unexpected force.Son. Something warm bloomed in my chest, quickly followed by a sharp twistof guilt. This man had treated me with more fatherly affection than my own father ever had. And I was lying to him. Using his daughter. Playing a role to get what I needed.
The guilt sat heavily on my chest, unexpected and unwelcome.
But wasn’t Zahra doing the same?
Still, it lingered, tangling with the genuine pleasure of Kamran's approval.
We fell into conversation about life in Seattle after that, discussing my teaching position, and the latest developments in astrophysics. Kamran asked thoughtful questions, genuinely interested despite his limited understanding of the field. But I found my attention increasingly divided, my eyes drifting across the terrace to where Zahra stood.
The sound of her laughter floated over the ambient chatter of the party—bright, unguarded, musical. She was gesturing animatedly about something, her eyes crinkling at the corners, her hands moving with graceful emphasis. She turned slightly, showing off the pockets in her dress with exaggerated delight that made the women around her squeal and clap.
I couldn't stop watching her, couldn't stop wanting to see her smile. I was entranced by everything about her——the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when someone complimented her, the subtle confidence in her posture as she navigated her element——it was like witnessing Halley’s Commet. A cosmic event most people only get to see once, if they’re lucky to be looking at the exact right moment.
Then I saw it—the change. Her smile dropped, the color drained from her face, her body stiffening in a way that was subtle but unmistakable to anyone watching closely. I didn't need to look to know why. She'd seen Ryan.
"Excuse me," I said to her father, cutting him off mid-sentence about my brilliant trajectory. "I think Zahra needs me."
His gaze followed mine, a shadow crossing his face, and he nodded solemnly.
I made my way across the terrace, noting how Parisa was looking at Zahra with concern, and how the bridesmaids were exchanging worried glances. I slipped in beside her, my hand finding the small of her back, and her posture immediately relaxed.
"Sorry to interrupt," I said smoothly. "Zahra, you’ve been running around all day and haven't eaten properly since brunch. We should get you something."
“Zazi,” Parisa scolded, hand over her heart. “You need to take care of yourself. I can’t get married without you.”
"You're right.” Zahra offered a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Pari. It won’t happen again."
"If you'll excuse us," I said to the group, already guiding her away.
Once we were a safe distance away, I felt her exhale shakily against me. "Thank you."
"That's what I'm here for." I kept my hand on her back, a steady presence as I led her to a quiet corner of the terrace. "You okay?"
She nodded unconvincingly. "Just wasn't as prepared to see him as I thought."
Before I could respond, a familiar voice cut through the ambient chatter.
"Well, well, well. We meet again."
