By the time Haider gets home, Dastan and I have made progress. It's much less awkward, we spent the hour that we had to ourselves catching up while Zia played with her toys at the table. When Haider walks into the kitchen, we're both laughing at a story Dastan just told about his friend Theo and his crazy antics. This is the same Theo that convinced him to get the piercing. He sounds amazing, and I'm glad Dastan found a friend like him in London. It makes me happy to know he wasn't completely alone over there.
Haider stops dead in the kitchen entryway, his eyes shooting from me, still seated at the counter, to Dastan who's taken up a seat on the opposite counter top. We both stop laughing as we watch him watch us for a moment, his eyebrows pulled together, his nose scrunched, and his mouth pursed in confusion. It's an understandable reaction, the last time he saw us together we couldn't even look at each other and now we're laughing together like old times.
"Hey," I beam at him, giving him an excited little wave. My mood has drastically improved since I first got here. I'm still exhausted but not nearly as grumpy. Haider still doesn't move form the entryway, Dastan eventually hops off the counter and goes up to his dad.
"You good, old man?" he asks cautiously from a distance. Haider's eyes focus on him and then he seems to snap back into himself. Something passes between them for a moment but since Dastan's back is to me I can't tell what it is. They both seem to shake it off almost instantly and then Haider's attention is solely on me. A huge smile splits his face.
"Happy birthday, Sweetie." He comes forward and wraps me in a massive hug, planting a kiss on the top of my head before stepping back. He cups my face in his large hands, "You look tired, what's wrong."
This is why I love Haider; he's always so concerned for me. Having him around is like having my dad with me and for some reason I really miss my dad today. I give him a gentle smile, "I'm fine, and it's just…" I stop, not wanting to talk about the nightmares today. Not when everything is good.
I'm saved from having to finish that statement when Emma barrels her way into the kitchen, shoving Dastan out the way. Haider steps aside just in time for her to launch herself at me. The stool beneath me rocks precariously but Emma's not interested. "Happy birthday!" she shouts right in my ear. Then squeals and squeezes her arms tighter around me. I laugh.
"You've wished me already." I tell her, but I'm smiling and I hug her a little tighter before letting go. She steps back and gives Dastan a little bump in greeting. He ruffles her hair and they're dynamic is so sweet and loving that it causes my insides to warm.
"Is she always this hyped about birthdays?" Connor asks, coming into the kitchen. He stands there for a moment looking like he's just walked off the pages of a GQ spread. How does he always do that? He comes over to me them, and I instinctively stand, a moment before he wraps his arms around me and drops a chaste kiss on my lips. "Happy Birthday babe."
"Thanks," I say, while my face heats a little. I catch Emma and Dastan giving each other a look behind Connor. Those two are the worst, they've never left me have a single relationship without relentlessly teasing me about it. They suck.
The night is surprisingly uneventful; I've come to expect drama anytime I have Dastan and Connor in the same room and its pleasant experience when the most exciting thing that happens is Zia putting lip gloss on Connor. It's great and reminds me of all the things I have it be grateful for. All these amazing people that make my life worth it, that make all of the grueling hours I'm putting into therapy mean something. I'm blessed to have them in my life and the fact that they love me as much as they do is something that I've taken for granted these last few years.
We spend the night eating take out form my favorite Japanese restaurant, making jokes and just enjoying each other's company. It's been so long since I've allowed myself to be this unguarded around them that it feels like a weight being lifted off my shoulders. By the time we get to opening up the gifts they've gotten me, I'm already an emotional wreck. Haider, as always, another charm for my bracelet. It's something he took over doing after my parents died. They'd get me a new charm for every birthday and one for each big milestone. Haider started the tradition up again on the first birthday I had without them. This one's a
Emma's gift is always a little more unpredictable. I never know if she's going to give me something great or if it's going to be dome gag gift she saw and thought would be hilarious. This year she went with a safer option and got me a pair of heels. They're gorgeous. I'm more nervous for Connors gift though. I'd told him earlier that I wasn't expecting him to get me anything. After all, he's not my boyfriend and he has no obligations. Of course he ignored that. So when he presents me with a perfectly wrapped purple package, my heart beat kicks up a notch.
Gingerly, I peel off one corner and peek inside. It's a little black box. I can't see any logos or signs to indicate what it might be. I try to keep my expression neutral as I slide it out and pull the cover off. That fails spectacularly; I feel my jaw hit the floor as I stare at the most beautiful silver necklace I've ever seen. It's a simple chain, dainty and elegant, with a diamond pendant shaped like a flower. Multiple stones all the size of my thumb nail. It's extravagant and there's no way I can accept it.
"It's beautiful; Connor, but I can take this." I tell him, my voice sounds small and awed even to me. He takes a moment to register what I've just said and then his mouth pulls down at the edges in a displeased little frown.
"Why not?" he asks, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion. Does he really not see a problem with this?
"It's too much," I explain, trying to keep my voice as neutral as possible. I don't want to offend him but it doesn't feel right to take this. Besides, it's really not me. It's beautiful but it's flashy and I'm not a fan of flashy.
Dastan let's out a low whistle from behind me. When did he get there? He peers at the necklace over my shoulder, "Damn, when you said you were comfortable what you really meant was stinking rich huh?" he says to Connor.
Connor shrugs but keeps his eyes on me, "It's not too much, an do want you to have it." He's looking at me in a way that says there's more than what he's actually saying. I swallow once and nod slowly.
"Okay," I say and then, almost as an afterthought "Thank you." He smiles then, the same private smile that I like to think of as being just for me. It makes my insides all hooey and I have to avert my eyes before I start blushing.
"These are amazing, thank you guys so much." I say, clearing my throat to fight off the awkwardness of the previous interaction.
"Woah, hold on." Dastan cuts in, turning away from me and heading toward the living room. "You're forgetting one." He yells back at us. I can't see him but his voice has an edge of uncertainty. I don't think there are any other gifts, Zia already gave me the card she made. Did Zahra get me something too?
I don't have to wonder about it for too long because Dastan comes back a few seconds later and hesitantly hands me a colorful blue bag. I look at him curiously, and he simply shrugs as if that answers anything. Now, I'm scared. I reach onto the bag and my fingers close over something metallic, thin and almost delicate. I carefully extract it. It's a frame, I flip it over to see what he possibly thought was worth framing. I'm kind of skeptical to be honest, Dastan has been known to give gag gifts and I'd hate to pull out a picture of me in my 14-year-old awkward phase in front of Connor.
My breath catches, in fact I'm pretty sure I stop breathing altogether. I know that's pretty silly considering I'd die but it sure does feel that way. I run my fingers over the glass, the picture beneath starts to blur. It's a photo of Emma, Dastan, Tommy and I from the year of the incident. The last one we ever took together. We're all clearly inebriated, our eyes glassy, our smiles sloppy but we look happy and vibrant, and most importantly alive. In the picture Tommy and I stand together, arms haphazardly thrown over each other's shoulders, beaming at the camera holding red solo cups. Emma stands on Tommy's other side distracted by something off camera, typical. Dastan stands further back, either unaware or uninterested in the camera, he's watching us with a look of adoration that makes the cracks along the surface of my heart ache a little more.
I can't hold the tears in any longer, they silently flow down my face. Dastan curses under his breath. "Hey, hey, don't cry." He takes a step towards me and then stops as if he thinks better of it. "Please." His voice sounds strained, upset. When I still don't respond he goes on, "I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you. I just thought you like to have it. I'm an idiot."
At that I look up, his expression is miserable. I smile, "They're happy tears." I say, my voice sounds thick and scratchy. He looks unconvinced so I stand from my seat and walk over to him. He watches me the whole time, like he's afraid I actually am upset and he's about to get beat up. It makes me want to laugh, he's like four times my size but I know he'd let me beat him up if he thought it'd make me feel better. I fling my arms around his shoulders and bury my face in the crook of his neck, "Thank you." I breath onto his skin. "I love it."
After a moment's deliberation, he wraps his arms around me and my body jolts awake at the sensation. Oh no, not good. He squeezes me between his massive arms and whispers into my hair, "You're welcome." I stay there for a second longer and then hastily pull away.
The kitchen is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Emma and Haider are watching us with identical looks of shock. I just roll my eyes at them and hope they drop it. Connors watching too bit his expression is a little more unreadable. Something about it makes me take a step away from Dastan and offer Connor an unsteady smile. He doesn't return it. That doesn't look good.