Page 100 of If I Loved You Less
He asks the questions with fear and hope, drawing closer, until we are breathing the same air, his fingers firm on my shoulders.
“Humaira,” he says. “I love you.”
My heart soars – then sinks. I step back, shaking my head.
“You can’t,” I whisper, covering my mouth with my hand.Shanzay. I cannot break her heart again.
“What?” he asks, not hearing me. I cannot tell him, for I know he will convince me, and I cannot do that to Shanzay. I will not hurt her.
“You don’t love me,” I say quietly, avoiding his gaze. “You love the idea of me, not the truth. No one could love the truth.”
“Look at me,” he says. I do, and see that his brows are furrowed with anger. “What are you talking about?”
“People only love me because they believe I am good and kind and perfect,” I say quickly. “They only love me for what I am to them, because they need me.”
“That’s not true,” he says, voice sure. “Humaira, that is nottrue.I have seen you be wretched and cruel and petulant and arrogant and spoiled and silly. I have also seen you be kind and attentive and clever and warm and sweet. I have seen –I see you, all of you.” He pauses. “The people who truly love you love all of you. As I do.”
“You can’t,” I say, voice small.
“Why?” he asks.
My voice breaks. “I can’t tell you.”
He shakes his head. “Do you enjoy making fools out of perfectly reasonable men?” he asks, frustrated.
“I do, yes!” I snap, just as irritated, but not by him, by myself.
As if sensing this, his anger melts, and he gives me a small smile.
“I don’t mind, Humaira,” he says, coming close. “Beloved Humaira, I will be a fool for you a thousand times over.”
Oh, why must he say these things! I cannot bear it.
“I don’t – I don’t know what you’re saying,” I respond, flustered. He waits patiently, while I collect my thoughts, but there is nothing to be said to change the circumstance, so I stand in silence, fumbling.
“You’re afraid,” he says. “I understand. Take all the time you need. There is no pressure from me. I wished to tell you that I love you, and I have. I do not expect anything in return.”
I blink at him in response, then finally manage to nod.
With that, it is truly time for me to go, but I do not want to.
Even though we say nothing, I wish to stay here, to stay with him, just to be in his presence, to be with him. I do not want to go, but I must, which only makes the feeling worse.
“I can’t think of anything clever to say,” I admit. He smiles.
“You don’t have to say anything clever,” he tells me. “You don’t?—”
“I must go.”
Silently, we both walk towards the door. As I go to open it, he puts his hand on the door to stop me.
“You don't have to leave,” he says, voice low with misery.
Don’t I?I want to say.
“You can stay as long as you’d like,” he adds quietly.
But that’s just it: I want to stay forever. And I cannot.
