The Woman Who Was Almost Me

I woke up in the middle of the night to a noise outside my room. Half-dazed, I sat up, listening. It was Dina. Her breathing was uneven, her movements restless—she seemed startled, almost embarrassed to be making a sound at all.

I got up and stepped out. "Dina?" I whispered. "What happened?"

She turned to me, her face pale under the dim hallway light. There was something unsettled in her eyes, something I hadn't seen in a long time.

"Mahkia was lost," she murmured.

I frowned, still half-asleep. "What?"

"In my dream," she said, her voice quieter this time. "She was lost, and I couldn't find her."

It had been so long since she last talked about her imaginary daughter that I had almost forgotten about her. But now, she was here again, in Dina's mind, in the dark, in this strange and uneasy night.

Dina hesitated, then added, "I think... it might be a sign."

"A sign of what?"

She didn't answer right away. She just stood there, arms wrapped around herself, staring at nothing.

And for some reason, I felt a chill run down my spine.

In the morning, I asked Dina to join me for breakfast. She looked tired, her eyes still clouded with whatever had unsettled her the night before.

As we sat down, I brought it up again. "About last night... what did you mean?"

She stirred her tea absentmindedly. "It's a sign," she repeated, her voice distant. "Maybe Aamz will be lost. Or maybe I'm lost for him. Or..." She trailed off, staring at the steam rising from her cup.

I watched her carefully. "Did something happen? Something new?"

She hesitated for a moment, then finally looked at me. There was something in her eyes—something fragile, like a thread about to snap.

After a long silence, she finally spoke.

"He's doing nothing," she said, almost to herself. "He has too much potential but does nothing to move forward. Life feels… absurd to him."

She traced circles on the table with her fingertip, then continued, "I want him to get married soon, but I never told him. He shows no readiness. Maybe he's suffering from something, but I can't figure out what."

I scoffed. "Come on! Suffering? With that high level of energy he has?"

Dina shook her head. "His energy makes it less understandable. I think that's the problem."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

She hesitated, then said, "I think it's because of us."

"Us?" I asked, confused.

Dina exhaled slowly. "Our complicated family. Maybe he sensed something—my clues about Dad, about my mother dying when I was born. Maybe he felt something about me that I don't even understand myself."

I was confused. To change the subject, I teased, "So, he does nothing… just like you? Haha. The lazy couple."

Dina didn't laugh. She just stared at me, unimpressed.

Realizing my joke had fallen flat, I quickly added, "Look, it's summer. We have time to figure this out. Let's start with the basics—does he actually know anything about our family history? If you didn't tell him yourself, then maybe he figured it out on his own?"

Dina finally looked up, considering my words. "That's what I need to know," she said. "Because if he did find out… then how?"

We talked about it for a while, but before we could come to any real conclusion, Laleh arrived at our home—and almost solved the first question immediately.

She sat down, casually sipping from a glass of water, and said, "No, he doesn't know about your family complexities. And even if he does suspect something, it's not important to him."

Dina frowned. "How can you say that with such certainty?"

Laleh smirked. "Because he never fact-checks anything. Think about it. Did he ever question who really invited him to the library that day? He showed up, met nobody, and just moved on. It was obviously our plan—but he never even bothered to explore it."

Laleh leaned back, crossing her arms. "So, what's the problem? He's just on the same path as any ordinary young guy."

Dina shook her head. "No, it's different. He starts things like a storm—so much energy, so many ideas—but then, sometimes, he just stops. For a long time. Too many ideas, no real outcome."

Laleh raised an eyebrow. "And that bothers you because…?"

Dina hesitated, then sighed. "Because I don't know if I can trust someone who moves like that. It's like he's always on the edge of either greatness or disappearing completely."

Dina continued, "While he seems confident, he only does well when he's alone. He doesn't like being watched."

Laleh tilted her head. "You mean, like, he avoids attention?"

Dina nodded. "Yes. He enjoys sharing knowledge, talking, even making people laugh. But when it comes to actually doing something serious, the moment eyes are on him… he hesitates. As if he's afraid of being measured."

I thought about it for a moment. "So, he's not just lazy. He's… stuck?"

Dina sighed. "Maybe. Or maybe he just doesn't believe in finishing things."

Laleh suddenly paused, as if a memory had just clicked. "Dina, didn't he once mention something about feeling like things didn't match with him?"

Dina nodded, a bit lost in the thought. "Yeah, he said once, 'I feel things that don't match my situation, my discipline, and my personality.'"

Laleh seemed to consider it for a moment. "That sounds like more than just confusion. It's like he feels out of place... maybe even in his own life."

Dina's face tightened. "Exactly. It's like he's at war with himself—unable to align everything, but always aware that something's off."

I thought about it, trying to figure out if there was anything we could do for him. Dina wanted him to act, to take that step toward marriage, but with his uncertainty, it seemed almost impossible. And in our culture, it's hard to make such decisions at this age, especially with the expectations surrounding it.

I thought about Daddy. He was definitely an obstacle. His standards were so high, so rigid. I remembered when Darya married—it wasn't easy. There had been so many hurdles, so much tension. Daddy had made sure she proved herself worthy of a man who could meet his expectations. And I knew he would do the same with Dina.

I said, "He's still not graduated, but he has some jobs. Making money at his age—it's impressive. Continuing this way would work for both him and Daddy's point of view."

Dina nodded slowly, her fingers tracing the edge of her cup. "I guess. But he's not there yet. He's still searching for something."

"Maybe," I said, "but from Dad perspective, a man who can support himself, who shows ambition—that's a step toward being worthy. If he can just keep going, it might ease some of the pressure."

Dina didn't seem fully convinced. "But what if he stops again? What if he just... never gets there?"

"Daddy got tired of his military job and established a new company in information technology," Dina said, almost casually.

But as soon as the words left her lips, we all seemed to have the same thought at once. A new plan was forming, almost like a natural progression from everything we had been discussing.

"Another plan for Dina?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, sensing what might be coming.

Dina nodded, her eyes lighting up with a spark of hope.

"Maybe... If he could work with your father. Get closer to him in that world, understand what your father expects, and start proving his worth in the same field. That could bridge the gap."

Laleh, who had been quiet until now, added, "It could make him more stable in your father's eyes. And if he gains more confidence in his career, maybe it'll carry over into his personal life too."

It was a long shot, but in that moment, it felt like a real possibility.

"True," I said, considering the situation carefully. "We don't even know how this new company is working, if it's established and running smoothly or if Daddy is still figuring things out."

Dina sighed. "Yeah, and I'm not sure if he's ready to bring anyone in yet, especially someone like... him." She paused, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But if Daddy sees him as useful, maybe he'd make an exception."

Laleh shrugged. "The best way to know is to try. If he does decide to approach your father, he could ask to contribute in a small way, start by doing something relevant. It wouldn't hurt to offer, and it would show your father that he's committed."

The uncertainty remained, but at least it was a step toward finding a way to make it work. Still, we couldn't ignore how much of a gamble this plan could be.

"We have to find out about the situation of the company first," I said, trying to think through the next steps.

Dina, with a mischievous grin, replied, "We should snoop on Daddy's phone calls."

Laleh raised an eyebrow. "Is that even a good idea? You know how private he is about his work." She paused, clearly thinking it over. "But I guess... if we could find a way to learn more without him noticing, it might help us plan better."

Dina shrugged. "Maybe just listen in when he talks to his business contacts. It's worth a shot, right?"

I hesitated. It felt wrong, but at the same time, we had little choice. We needed the information, and if it meant bending the rules a little, maybe it was worth it. Still, the thought of crossing that line made me uneasy.

Laleh left, and that night, Dina and I didn't head to our rooms right away. For nights after nights, we stayed up, listening for anything that could give us a clue about Daddy's business, trying to sneak information from his phone calls or catch snippets of his conversations. But, despite our efforts, nothing really came of it.

It was as if he had perfected the art of keeping his work life completely separate from everything else. There were no hints, no slip-ups, just silence. The more we tried, the more we realized how elusive Daddy's business world really was.

After a few days, the thrill of snooping faded, and I couldn't help but feel like we were missing something important—something we couldn't just uncover by eavesdropping.

One night, Dina suddenly turned to Daddy and said, "We both want to help you with the company. We're both studying IT, and we'd like to be involved."

I froze, shocked by her bold statement. We hadn't even discussed it before. Dina had decided on this all on her own, and I wasn't sure if it was a good idea. Her enthusiasm was obvious, but I wasn't sure what her true intentions were.

Daddy paused, looking at us both with a raised eyebrow. He was silent for a moment, as if considering her words carefully. I didn't know if he was suspicious or simply weighing the offer.

"Help?" he said finally. "How do you think you can help with this business? You both still have a lot to learn."

Dina didn't back down. "We're willing to learn. We want to contribute, and we know IT can make a real difference in your company."

I glanced at her, feeling the tension in the air. I wasn't sure what we were getting ourselves into, but Dina's determination was palpable. I just hoped we weren't walking into something neither of us was prepared for.

Daddy nodded slowly, considering her request. "Alright," he said, "my co-founder is tired of reading resumes to find our employees. You two help to sort them."

Dina's face lit up with excitement. "That's very nice of you! What kind of employees are you looking for?"

Daddy leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table. "We need people with strong technical skills, but also those who can manage the stress of a startup. It's not just about knowledge—it's about adaptability and drive. We're looking for software developers, data analysts, maybe even someone with a knack for business management. But they also need to be able to work well with the rest of the team."

Dina immediately perked up, her mind already running with ideas. "Got it," she said, eager to begin. "We'll start with the resumes and go from there."

I stood silently beside her, unsure of the implications this would have on our family dynamic. But I wasn't about to say anything. For now, Dina seemed certain, and I followed her lead. The task was set, and we were about to step into this new world with Daddy and his company. I could only hope it would lead us somewhere good.

The next day, Dina and I found ourselves sitting in the cold, empty building that was Daddy's company, the hum of the fluorescent lights above the only sound in the otherwise silent space. We were reading through resumes, the piles growing steadily on the table before us.

I couldn't help but feel uneasy. "What are you doing?" I asked, my voice low and cautious. "This is risky. Daddy may soon guess you forced him to employ Aamz..."

Dina, however, wasn't fazed. She flipped through another stack of resumes and glanced up at me. "He'll never know," she said, her voice confident. "We're just helping him with the hiring process. Nothing more. Aamz is the right fit for the job. He can bring value, and Daddy won't see it as anything personal."

I bit my lip, unsure if I truly believed her. "But what if he does find out? What if he realizes it was all part of our plan?"

Dina's eyes narrowed slightly, her expression firm. "He won't. We'll make sure everything looks professional. He's already swamped with work; he won't have the time to dig deeper. We're helping him, just like we said we would."

I nodded slowly, though doubt lingered in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't sure how much longer we could keep this secret, but for now, Dina seemed resolute. As we continued sorting through resumes, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were crossing a line, and that line might soon come back to haunt us.

I glanced at Dina, still feeling uneasy. "Are you sure Aamz himself wants such a job?" I asked, trying to voice my doubts.

Dina didn't hesitate. She handed me the filtered stack of resumes, and there, at the very top, was Aamz's application. It was perfectly tailored, with all the qualifications and experiences lined up just right.

"He's the most suitable," Dina said confidently, tapping the paper with her finger. "His skills, his background—everything matches what they need for the role."

I looked at the resume, then back at Dina. She had a point. Aamz's qualifications were undeniably impressive, and if this were purely about finding the right fit, it made sense. But still, something about the whole situation didn't sit right with me. I couldn't shake the thought that this might not be as simple as Dina was making it seem.

"But," I started, my voice hesitant, "what if he doesn't even want this job? What if it's all just for us, for you?"

Dina shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it. It's not like he's exactly drowning in opportunities. He's smart, he has potential, but he needs a stable foundation, and this could be it. Don't worry, Dorsa. It's all part of the plan."

I nodded slowly, still uncertain but trusting my sister. We had already crossed so many lines, and it felt like there was no turning back.

Dina's eyes gleamed with determination as she said, "Now we need to convince daddy to employ him as the single developer."

I froze for a moment, trying to process what she just said. "What? Are you insane?" I blurted out. "This makes it even riskier! A team is needed, not just one person."

She wasn't phased by my reaction. "Dorsa, we don't have time for a team. A team will slow everything down. If Aamz is the right fit, we can trust him to manage on his own. Daddy will see how much potential he has."

I shook my head, still unsure. "But one person alone? What if it all falls apart? What if he can't handle it?"

Dina leaned in, her voice lower but confident. "That's the point. We give him the responsibility, make him feel like he's in control. He'll rise to the occasion. Besides, it's not like we have a better option. We've already pushed things this far. You can't back out now."

She was right. We had already crossed so many lines to get this far. But the risk felt enormous. Still, I couldn't ignore the fact that Aamz had the skills—and he needed this opportunity.

"Dina," I said slowly, my mind racing, "this is huge. We're gambling everything on him. If he fails, we're done."

She smiled, a mix of excitement and certainty. "We won't let him fail. He's not going to fail."

I could describe the amount of stress I felt, the weight of every decision, and how Dina remained so confident throughout it all. But despite the sleepless nights and constant worrying, after less than a month, we overheard daddy talking to his co-founder.

"I love this zippy," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "He's smoothing us in the way we want, and he's doing it alone."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Aamz, the same person we had pushed so hard to bring into this, was impressing daddy—and in such a short time. I looked at Dina, and she gave me a small but triumphant smile.

It felt like the weight I had been carrying was suddenly lifted, even though there were still so many unknowns ahead. Aamz was handling the pressure, just like Dina believed he would. And the best part? Daddy was on board.

But still, part of me couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. Would he keep this momentum? Would he stay true to what he promised, or would the weight of his responsibilities get to him?

For now, though, I couldn't deny it: things were looking up.

Dina whispered to me with a smile, "Now look at this."

Then, with surprising confidence, she turned to daddy and said, "I think he still can help us improve ourselves too. Maybe he'll accept us as assistants."

I was shocked once again, trying to keep Dina from pushing too far. But there she was, speaking the words I couldn't bring myself to say.

Mom made a wonderful smile, and it felt like the whole room shifted. Her eyes softened as she looked at us, perhaps seeing something more in Dina's words than I could at that moment.

"Dina," Daddy said after a long pause, "If you believe this will help, I trust you. We'll see how it goes."

I was caught in the middle of everything. The plans, the stakes, the pressure—it felt like everything was riding on this one decision. But as Dina looked at me with that same confident smile, I couldn't deny it: something in me felt relieved.

Maybe this was just the beginning of something bigger.

Daddy made a call: "How are you, big boy? Haha. Look, I'll be on a trip for three days. My daughters, Dina and Dorsa, will come to the office. You please interview them, and if they can help you, give them some work along your path."

I could feel the weight of the moment. This was happening faster than I expected, and now we had to step into a whole new world. Dina, confident as ever, looked at me, her expression unwavering.

"We can do this," she whispered.

I wasn't sure whether I felt ready or terrified, but we had no choice now. The doors were open. The path was laid out. And somehow, everything was about to change.

Next day, I was getting ready to join Dina to go to the office for interviews, which I now realized was all a setup.

Mom asked me, "You're joining her?"

I nodded. "Yes."

She gave me a questioning look. "I thought you weren't supposed to go to the office now."

I was confused. "Why?"

"Ask Dina," she said, her tone a bit distant.

Dina walked out, looking all made up and confident. She looked at me, and without missing a beat, she said, "You failed in the interview, and I'm the one accepted to assist him."

My heart sank. I felt my chest tighten. I had tried so hard, helped so much, and yet here I was, the one left out. I was about to cry, but I held back. What was this after all my help? Why was she doing this to me?

I looked at Mom, hoping to find some support, some sign that she understood how much I had invested in this situation, how much I cared. But instead, I saw her face light up with excitement as she focused on Dina.

Mom was thrilled that Dina was going to the office, and it wasn't just about the job. It was about Dina being alone with Aamz, and it hurt. She didn't even seem to notice the broken heart of her real daughter standing right there. Her attention was completely on Dina, as if I didn't matter at all.

I stood there, feeling invisible, my thoughts swirling. What had happened to all those moments I thought we shared? Why did it feel like I was being pushed aside for Dina's happiness, or perhaps her game? I could barely breathe through the suffocating silence that had fallen between us.

I couldn't handle it. Watching Mom, who had always been my support, now focusing all her attention on Dina was unbearable. She was helping her with cosmetics, picking out clothes to make her look her absolute best. Every time Dina asked for something, Mom was quick to oblige, making sure she looked stunning. She even spent extra time on her hair, making sure everything was perfect.

It was as if I didn't exist.

The room felt suffocating, and the more I watched, the more my heart ached. I thought I'd be the one who needed her help today, yet here she was, pouring all her energy into Dina. I felt invisible, like I was fading into the background while Dina became the center of everything.

It hurt so much to see my mom, the one person I used to be able to count on, putting all her love and attention into making Dina more beautiful, more perfect. Was this the life I was going to live? Watching my mom treat Dina like the daughter she wished for, and leaving me feeling like I was nothing more than a bystander?

The only thing that brought me some comfort was when Dina came back at night, radiating happiness, and hugged me with such warmth. She whispered, "Dear, trust me, it was not to hurt you. You'll join us soon, and you'll see improvements too."

Her words were meant to reassure me, but they only left me feeling conflicted. There was a part of me that wanted to believe her, to trust that everything would be okay in the end. But then, another part of me felt betrayed—betrayed by the way she had pushed me aside so easily, as if my feelings didn't matter as much as her own ambitions.

It was a dual sense that I couldn't shake off—hope mixed with pain. I wanted to believe that eventually, I would be included, that I would have a chance to prove myself. But every time I thought about how things had unfolded, it felt like a lie I had to convince myself of. Would things really change? Would I really have my turn, or would I just keep fading into the background while Dina got everything she wanted?

It was a constant struggle inside me, torn between wanting to support her and feeling completely left out. And the worst part was, I didn't know if there was any way to make it better.