I studied him.
“Why did you agree to meet me that evening? And why did you agree to the marriage meeting?”
He considered the question.
“Because I was tired of fighting with my parents. They kept telling me it was time to settle down, and I thought meeting someone might be easier than arguing again.”
I almost laughed.
“That sounds familiar.”
He smiled.
“Doesn’t it?”
For the first time, the tension between us eased.
We talked for nearly two hours.
Not as Amir and Nour.
Not as the wealthy son and the perfect daughter.
We talked about our families, our expectations, and the versions of ourselves we had created to avoid disappointing the people around us.
He told me about the pressure he felt to become the ideal son.
I told him about the fear that had kept me silent for so long.
Neither of us tried to turn the conversation into a romantic confession.
