The Woman Who Was Almost Me

Things were still uncertain, but it seemed like there was no permanent darkness looming over us anymore. Dina was once again pursuing her dream life, while I, once again, found myself with nothing.

Dina came into my room and hugged me from behind. The scars on her face and hands had almost faded. It seemed she hadn't forgotten me. She said, "You've been so annoyed with me for so long. Now it's time for us to follow something for you."

She said, "Bring back Kaveh. He's back in the city."

That was enough for me to feel like I had a supportive sister. I replied, "Not now. Not before you've completed everything."

I had decided that I would first finish everything for Dina, then start my own journey.

I asked, "How are your plans progressing?"

She replied, "He's not sure about migrating."

I asked, "Why?"

She said, "Ah, I don't know. He spins a yarn. He says that because of your behavior, I haven't had good academic records recently. Then he talks about his aging parents and all sorts of things..."

I wasn't really in the mood and just replied, "Aha…"

Later in the afternoon, Mom came to us and said, "Done! My friend, who's your doctor for heart issues, will tell your father that it's much better to have the operation abroad. We just need to know the earliest time Aamz can be migrated. When will it be?"

Dina said, "Let's have a meeting with him. You, Laleh, and I should push him to migrate quickly."

I asked, "Can you do it without me?"

But in the end, all four of us were at a café. After a lot of discussion, he said, "But I'll go to the US, not Europe."

Dina replied, "But that's harder and more time-consuming. Why not Europe?"

He said, "Because I don't know any of the European languages."

After months of Aamz being in a mood that wasn't progressing as we expected, there was finally readiness. He was prepared to migrate, and in three months after his departure, it would be time for Dina's operation.

I asked Dina, "You'll miss him for these three months. Are you ready?"

She replied, "No, he'll just go for one week and come back after enrollment. We just need him to be ready to come back whenever we need him."

I asked, "And why?"

She said, "I'm approaching heart surgery. I need him. Also, think about being far away... like... you and Kaveh."

I asked, "And he agreed?"

She replied, "It's easier than you think. He still won't inform his family to avoid disturbance before his full migration. Just a short weekly travel."

That kind of jealousy was typical of Dina—she focused on every little detail.

She said, "And you've been talking too much to him about philosophy, politics, and... everything. Just make it less. Let him focus."

I was spending my time in a depressed state, waiting for everything to turn out well. But was Dina afraid of me? Why was she getting closer to Aamz? She was definitely afraid I would take advantage of this distance. It was annoying. Let him focus on what? Just traveling and coming back.

But I decided to postpone such concerns until after this plan was complete.

Soon, it was time to go. The four of us were traveling for the medical treatment—Dina, Mom, Dad, and me.

I was packing when I went to Dina's room. She was working on a plaster sculpture over an aluminum skeleton.

I asked, "What are you doing?"

She replied, "Making souvenirs."

I asked, "For whom?"

She said, "For myself."

She was acting even stranger than usual.

Finally, we traveled abroad for the final step. Everything was going according to routine.

The night before the surgery, Dina and I were talking.

She said, "Do you know why I feel this way about him? He made me feel the best about myself. He calls me 'the sun.' Before him, I was nothing, and because of him, I became the sun."

Then she continued, "Though sometimes, he does the exact opposite. Maybe by trying to force me to accept his thoughts. But overall, for the first time, I feel like something valuable because of him."

During the surgery, I glanced at Dina's phone and saw another message from Shahed:

"Right after surgery will be our wedding."

I froze. My heart pounded in my chest.

I suddenly remembered—we hadn't even asked Aamz to come yet. Wasn't he supposed to be here in just a few hours?

I rushed to Mom and asked, "Why isn't Aamz here yet?"

She answered calmly, "Dina wants to wait three days after the operation."

Confused, I asked, "Why?"

She sighed. "To be sure about the result."

Then she hesitated before adding, "She also said something… sad."

A chill ran down my spine. "What?"

Mom looked away. "She said, If I die afterward, even if it's not during surgery, tell everyone I died on the operating table."

She paused, then added, "It's just the stress talking."

But I wasn't so sure.

A few hours had passed since the surgery. Dina was awake, smiling—glowing with the kind of relief that comes after surviving something big.

I sat beside her, feeling lighter than I had in months. "So," I asked with a grin, "is everything finally done? In the next few days, we can just move on?"

She tilted her head slightly, her smile unwavering. "I just need to be sure about one more thing."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

Her voice was soft but certain. "That the devils are truly gone."

I blinked, unsure how to respond.

The words felt strange, almost eerie. But I brushed it off as the lingering effects of anesthesia.

I spent that night at the hotel.

In the morning, I picked up the gold plaque engraved with their names—Aamz had given it to me weeks before, saying, "Take this with you. I want it to be our engagement gift."

My father was absent, and my mother wasn't around. I asked the receptionist, who guided me to another room.

When I stepped inside, I saw my mother lying there, hooked up to an IV drip. She didn't even notice me at first. A strange, cold feeling rushed through me.

Without another thought, I turned and ran to Dina's room.

The nurse met me at the door, her face unreadable.

"We discovered it half an hour ago," she said.

She pointed to the broken head of Dina's sculpture. Inside it—white rice tablets.

My heart pounded. "I want to see her," I demanded.

The nurse shook her head. "I'm sorry, we can't allow that right now."

I grabbed Dina's phone, my hands trembling. Two last messages:

Shahed: We're on our way to the hospital.

Aamz: Please, just tell me everything is okay.

It had been almost three years since we started growing closer, step by step. And now, a part of me was gone.

The sun had died.