One should be most liberated in the presence of those one loves. One's heart should beat freely around the people one loves. The taste of breathing should be filled with loved ones. One's soul should be full of joy. The flavor of every meal you eat should increase with love. When you look at your father, you should see trust. When you look at your mother, unconditional love.

Looking back at my own life, I realize that maybe I have never been able to see unconditional love. I don't realize it now, it's something that has been haunting me for years. But some things I've experienced recently have brought this feeling back to the surface. The hustle and bustle I've been in for a few days, all the things I've had to go through for a few months have caused me to put the most important thing, my feelings, on the back burner, so that the first night I sleep in a comfortable, warm bed, in a home environment, I wake up crying. My pillow is soaked with my tears. The fact that the voice coming from inside is not in my mother tongue turns my tears into sobs,

"I'm going out, I left my number on the table if you need anything. You can use the kitchen as you like. If you want to come, I'll send you the location of the bar when you call."

"Okay, thank you," I reply through sobs.

The footsteps stop. He knocks on my door, "Are you okay, can I come in?"

I wipe my tears with the back of my hand, trying to calm my voice a little.

"Please don't come in. I'll tell you later."

"Alright, we can talk whenever you want."

Just the fact that someone is paying attention to me is enough to make my emotions run wild. Although I think this attention is purely out of politeness, but it's obvious how much I need attention. My stomach rumbles with hunger. I want to make sure Ezra is gone so I can get out of bed. Meeting him now means having to explain a lot.

When I've calmed down a bit, I stand up. I open the window of my room and wait for the fresh air to fill the room. I take a deep breath of this air. For me, it's the breath of hope. I wish I could call it the smell of hope, but it is more like the smell of French fries. I close the window so I don't get too nauseous. I open the closet where I will put my clothes. I hang a few clothes on the hangers. When I open the drawer to put my pants in the drawers, I see a paper turned upside down in the corner. A date is written on the back. When I pick it up, I realize it's a photograph. And instantly, I regret that I came across it. If I look at this photograph now, I'll be intruding into Ezra's privacy. I stop unpacking. I leave the room with the photograph in my hand, thinking Ezra has probably left. I intend to leave it in one of the common areas and drop the bomb on myself. When I leave the room, I find Ezra drinking coffee at the kitchen table. I hide the photo behind my back.

"Didn't you leave?"

"I did, and I left a copy of myself here for him to take care of you." He gets up and pours me a cup of coffee from the machine. "Do you want milk?"

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I have to put the photo back in the room. "Yes, please." While he pours the milk, I quickly enter the room, throw the photo on top of my clothes that are scattered in the suitcase and leave.

I take the coffee from Ezra, "Thank you, but you don't need to take care of me."

I sit across from Ezra at the kitchen table to drink my coffee. He doesn't try to mince words. "Meryem, why did you come here? You seem to be homesick. Are you sure this is a temporary trip?"

I bow my head and my eyes fill up again. I clench my jaw to keep from crying. "These are not things I can share yet..."

He pours his coffee into the sink. "Then let's forget all this. Get ready and come with me. Maybe I can make you like it here."

"Really? It would be really good if I could learn a little about this city. But don't you have work to do?"

He takes my coffee mug. As he pours it into the sink, he says, "It's a good thing you didn't take a sip of this stuff because it was awful."

I laugh. "Oh, so you remembered to laugh. I'm glad. Don't worry about work. Georgie can cover for me today."

***

After a short tour of Central Park, we sit on a bench. The best words to describe this place and this moment are peace and discomfort at the same time. Both happy and full of guilt. My silence bores Ezra, I feel it, but I can't open myself up to him.

As if sensing my feelings, he says, "You don't owe me an explanation for anything. I want you to be comfortable."

I laugh, "Why shouldn't I be comfortable? I paid my rent, my roommate is introducing me to the neighborhood. That's all."

"Have you ever had a roommate before? I'm sure you've never seen anyone like me." He runs his fingers through his hair and winks.

"I had one when I was studying medicine in Istanbul. But I lived alone for years, until I came here."

"I'm sure your previous roommate wasn't perfect like me." He winks again.

Ah, I'm not going to give you the praise you want. "She actually made better coffee than you..."

"She? If that's a woman, she's better than me anyhow. Especially if she's blonde." His defeat shows on his face. But he smiles.

I wish he didn't smile so beautifully. "She was blonde. So you lost. But so far you're not bad yourself. I guess you had a roommate before me."

He rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward, resting his chin on his hands, "She was a blonde woman too..."

"Oh, you poor thing. I wish you wouldn't look at me like that."

He wags his finger in my face, "Shame on you, woman! You're engaged! I'm looking at you as a cha-ching."

I look at my ring, "What an engagement!"

Silence. I check my watch, it's almost evening. "Time has passed so fast. Let's stop by the grocery store, I want to cook dinner tonight."

We do as I say. I realize he doesn't have high hopes for the dinner, but when he sees me cooking Penne Alfredo, he takes a bottle of rosé wine out of the fridge.

As I put the food on the table, he pours the wine.

"Looks like we make a good team."

We clink glasses, "So let's drink to this team."

A few glasses later, I'm a little tipsy, and when Ezra pulls out a second bottle, I don't object. We take the second bottle and the glasses and go to the couches. At some point, he sits next to me in the seat I was sitting in.

He says something strange to me, "Don't fall in love with me, I've ruined the lives of those who fell in love with me."

I giggle, "Those who fell in love with you? Clown. You don't have to worry about me."

I'm blatantly lying. When Ezra leans his head on my shoulder and closes his eyes, I don't know how to control the flower that blossoms inside me.

This flower that I plucked and threw away years ago and said I wouldn't let it bloom again is now bothering me again. I close my eyes and let out a deep sigh. I slowly get up from the couch, trying not to wake him. I put his head on the couch cushion and help him lie down slightly. As I leave him on the couch and go to my room, he grabs my wrist. His eyes are closed.

"Good night, Ezra.” I whisper.

"Good night," he mumbles.