“You smell good.”
She licks her lips and glances at me for a second.
“It’s lavender,” she tells me. “It will help you sleep.”
“It will?”
“That’s what they say.”
I ponder a moment. I’m not sure who they are, but I have to admit the scent is relaxing. I rest my cheek against her shoulder and inhale deeply. Exhaustion overcomes me quickly, and the smell of her skin fills my head as she places one hand on my back and runs her fingers up to my shoulder. She slides her other arm underneath my head, cradling me.
With her arms around me and the scent of lavender washing over me, I fall asleep.
Crack, scream. Crack, scream. Crack, scream.
I feel a calloused hand under my jaw before my head is roughly pulled up. A dark, bearded face with wild eyes glares at me.
“Location!” he yells for the thousandth time.
I wet my lips, take a deep breath, and nod.
“They’re…they’re…” I pause and gather saliva in my mouth. The bearded face leans closer to hear my whispered words, and I pull my head back, look straight into his eyes, and spit in his face.
Words are yelled in Farsi as I am unchained from the ceiling and thrown to the ground. Hard-tipped boots kick at my ribs before I’m dragged backwards from the building and out into the sun.
No, no, no…not back there! Not back in the hole! No, no, no!
“Don’t put me back! No! Please, please, don’t put me back!”
“Shh…”
My heart is pounding, and I can’t catch my breath. Though the images of the dream have faded, I feel sweat all over my body and taste sand in my mouth. There are arms around me, and for a moment, I tighten my grip on them and press my fingers into soft flesh.
“Get them away!”
“There’s no one but me, Evan. It’s all right. You’re all right.”
I breathe in gasps, my eyes burn, and no matter how many times I swallow, I still feel gritty sand in my mouth. I open my eyes, confused by the unfamiliar surroundings—a room I don’t quite recognize, a bed that doesn’t quite feel familiar, and a woman whose name I don’t quite recall.
I blink rapidly, taking in my surroundings. I’m in my new bed—my new apartment—not in the desert. There’s a soft body pressing against mine and fingertips rubbing against the top of the tendons on the back of my neck. I inhale a luxurious scent and drift off again.
*****
In the morning, I wake alone, but the spot next to me is still slightly warm.
I can hear movement from the kitchen and smell the scent of coffee and bacon. Pushing myself from the bed, I wander into the hall, rubbing my eyes.
Alina is in the kitchen, wearing my robe and flipping pancakes. Her hair has been pulled up into a ponytail, and her feet are bare, but she doesn’t seem to mind the chill of the hardwood floors. My warped mind briefly conjures up an image of what she would look like if she were pregnant, but I quickly push the ludicrous thought aside. She reaches over to the counter and casually lifts a coffee cup to her lips.
The whole scene is surreal.
She looks over to me and widens her eyes as her body stills for a moment. She watches me for exactly four seconds before her shoulders relax, and she sets the cup back on the counter.
“You were asleep for a long time,” she says softly. “I thought you might be hungry.”
“I am.” It’s the truth, too. I’m famished, and the food smells fantastic. I pour myself a cup of coffee and watch her in silence as she arranges everything on two plates.
I do cook for myself, and I’m not too bad at it, but there is something about a woman’s cooking that has always tasted better to me. Maybe it’s because I only put effort into the consumption of the meal and not its preparation. Regardless, it’s delicious and reminds me of Lele’s cooking. I devour everything on my plate and head back for more.