“First, thank you for telling me the truth and not allowing me to build a one-sided golden castle in my mind. Although, to be honest, I had already built the castle. All that remained was painting the walls and decorating it. Still, thank you for your honesty.

“I’m not a child. And I’m a psychologist, after all. I know how to deal with this. I’m telling you this so you don’t feel guilty.”

From that answer, I guessed that as far as he was concerned, the matter was over.

He continued:

“Second, psychologically speaking, you did the right thing by not marrying someone who doesn’t stir your feminine feelings. You did the right thing both when you rejected Sina and now, in telling me this.

“Of course, if there weren’t someone else involved, I would tell you to give us more time. Maybe I could make you fall in love with me.

“But now, I’d rather not try.”

When he said that, two feelings appeared in me at once.

First, relief from the pressure I had been carrying.

Second, fear of being abandoned.

Once again I saw my mother’s face: “You threw away another good suitor because you’re so stubborn?”

My own face had fallen too.

Dr. Matin asked, “Is this Sina the same man who gave you his car?”

“Yes.”

He thought for a moment.

“I can’t give you a definite opinion about him. Until I meet him, I can’t say much. But if you want to know what’s going on inside his head, stop playing hide-and-seek.”

“What should I do? Go to his door and ask whether he still wants to marry me or not?”

“No. You say you’re intelligent. Find a better way.”

Our conversation in the consultation room ended there.

Dr. Matin had handled the whole matter much more rationally than I expected.

I was both happy and sad about that.

I thought about the fact that I was reaching an age when perhaps the days of passionate, all-consuming love were beginning to disappear. Everyone was old enough to know better.

We agreed that from the next day they would look for a replacement caregiver for Ezi, and I would gradually reduce my working hours.

It was better for both of us—for Ezi and for me.

Less than twenty days later, I stopped going to that house.

We agreed that I would continue paying the installments on the car, even though Matin had said he wanted to consider it a gift for the devoted care I had given Ezi.

I would simply transfer the installments to his account on schedule.

During the months I worked in that house, I learned a great deal—from the wonderful books I read and from having the opportunity to talk with a psychologist.

I became much more aware of myself.

I no longer felt that I had to do something extraordinary, something that would make me shine like a single star in the sky.

I had my parents’ income.

I wasn’t in any particular financial need.