Chapter Text
“Asalam, I just don’t understand how you just lose a shawl like that. It’s a shawl, made to be around you, not just tossed around.” Salman said, obviously angry at something else.
“It’s just a shawl, Salman. I can get another one at literally any other store. So just tell me what you’re actually angry about before I have to go and hunt for it,” Baran said.
“I just don’t understand how you disappear from the building for over an hour, there’s only so many rooms that we have access to at the gala”
“I was taking a smoke break-”
“For over an hour, Baran, please me serious with me.”
“Okay, okay fine,” she gulped, there was nothing to hide but for some reason the conversation she had with Trinity felt sacred, like something only meant to be kept between themselves.
“There was somebody outside with me,” she could practically see the steam coming from him, “but- but I went out there by myself and apparently she walked out there too and-and-”
“Was it that one girl in the suit?”
“Uh- I don’t know, there was a lot of people there and-”
“Was it a dyke?” Baran froze, the fear spreading all throughout her body. He hadn’t accused her of something like this in so long. “Were you out there by yourself with some lesbian? Baran look at me, you know you have to be careful with people like that, you’ll get too tempted.”
He gripped her jaw to tilt her head up and make eye contact. She had been so good, she had pushed down these feelings for so long. She had married Salman to show everyone she was normal, she is normal. There were just times when she slipped up; in uni when he walked in on her and her roommate or a year into their marriage when a tab was left open on their office computer. It was fine, she had it under control. She had Salman there to help her get back on track. Just like he was doing know, he was helping her. But from what? That conversation outside had been perfectly innocent, and for him to turn it into something it’s not is where she draws the line. She is sick of getting micromanaged by him. Of being made to feel like she has to hide her every thought from him
“We started talking about emergency medicine and how her hospital here in Pittsburgh has an opening for an attending. Please I swear that’s all it was, please,” she said, her hand coming up to rest on his fingers that were still gripping her face.
She wasn’t sure who or what she was begging for. Begging for his forgiveness or begging for herself to believe what she had just said? But either way, that seemed to calm him down enough for the rest of the drive home to go by smoothly.
She turned to look out the window, eyes following the buildings as they past by, the bricks reminding her of “Trinity Santos from PTMC.”
Trinity Santos. She couldn’t get the name out of her mind. Even the way it felt when she said it was exhilarating. She was so tired of normal, of acting normal at events, acting normal with her parents who wouldn’t accept anything less. But Trinity Santos looked at her like she’s never seen anything so perfect. She saw her in ways no one else has bothered to do.
She felt every little glance from the other women, from the way Trinity’s eyes traveled across her face landing on her lips, then down to the curve of her ass, and back up to her chest, barely covered by the deep neckline. And she saw her back, saw the way her strong arms filled the suit jacket and how they led down to even stronger fingers adorned with rings. Don’t even get her started on that smirk, the smirk Trinity brought our every time she succeeded in making Baran laugh.
When she went to bed that night she thought about Trinity Santos, imagined the arms currently wrapped around her torso belonged to the green eyed women she had met. The thoughts of those soft fingertips pressing into the skin of her lower stomach evoked a different feeling than the rough calloused ones. The feeling of warmth and comfort spreading through her, leading her too the best sleep she has had in years.
***
True to her word, Trinity had put in a good word for that women she had met at the gala. The administration had been thoroughly impressed by her qualifications and offered her a job within the next two weeks.
Thus led Baran to her unfortunately unhealthy habit of drinking at a bar the night before a big event. She did it the night before midterms in uni, the eve of her wedding day, even the night before her uncle’s funeral last year. The first day as interim chief attending would be no different. The alcohol and keppra was a terrible mix, but it was one she didn’t really care about at times, only seeking for some peace in her screaming head that only a good martini could fix. If her seizures were gonna get worse, at least she had a say in it, at least that was the horrible excuse she told herself for concerning her self-sabotaging habits.
“People watching again?” That little Dennis boy’s voice being the first one she heard, as he walked outside to where Baran was still contemplating her entrance into the small dungy building.
She smiled. “Nice to see you again.”
She looked down at his outfit, a rugged grey t-shirt tucked into his black scrub pants. He must have came here straight from his shift.
“You gonna stick around? I heard one of the neurosurgeons just bought a round.”
Of course, this was just her luck, she just had to pick the bar that apparently all of PTMC staff goes to. So much for letting the stress out.
She laughed, “I’m not even an employee yet.”
“Oh come on its practically tomorrow!” He said, harshly throwing his hands up in the air, smacking Trinity who had just walked out to greet them.
“Fuck man, I didn’t even say anything stupid yet,” she said clutching her nose.
Trinity looked up and saw the beautiful women from the gala, the one that was suppose to be her new boss. Of fucking course she had to meet her again looking like shit, smelling of beer, and oh shit- with blood coming out of her nose.
“Baran, like Madonna,” Trinity said with a wink, making Baran remember the joke they shared the night at the gala when she apparently forgot the name she's had for the past 40 years. "Fancy seeing you here." Her thumb and pointer finger still pinching her nose, making her voice come out squeaky. Shit, she was never gonna impress this women.
“Shit sorry, hi!” she had tried again, with her nose unplugged, except now it started shooting the blood out of her nose and down through her teeth. Making her getting choked up on the last word. The world was actually destined to humiliate her.
Baran rushed over with napkins while Whitaker went inside to get a cup of water.
“Way to make a second impression,” Baran tried to joke.
Trinity let out a small chuckle. She didn’t know this women at all beyond her name and her soon to be job. And still, here she was, letting the women clean up the blood on the side of her cheek, wiping ever so gently as to not irritate her skin. Trinity isn’t use to gentle, she doesn’t do gentle. But, she couldn’t explain the undeniable pull she felt when Baran was around, the way her voice made her whole body soften immediately.
Baran made her want things she was scared of having, couldn’t hope to keep. And with the inches between their face, Baran smiling at her as her hand creates delicate swipes across her face, Trinity thought that she might just give them to her if she asked.
Whitaker came back out with the glass of water and immediately retreated when he saw the tension he just walked in on. Trinity watched him go back inside and get pulled into a drinking game with the ms4’s.
“Somebody has to keep an eye out on Javadi,” Trinity jokes when she sees where Baran was looking. “She’s one of our prodigy doctors, so she’s 21 and wow is she drinking like it.”
Baran files this piece of information for later. Not for judgment at work, but in a soft place that appreciates Trinity sharing these little moments about her friends with her.
“Is he just gonna let you have babysitting duty of me. Make sure the new attending is all nice and accommodated,” Baran asked, the napkin discarded on one of the benches outside. “You wont even let me go in and meet everyone.”
“Well who knows what disrespectful things those cocky neuro guys are gonna say about you when they’re drunk,” Trinity said easily, like protecting Baran from them was the easiest thing she could do.
“You think they would disrespect me?” she asked curiously, absorbing every new information of PTMC that Trinity keeps on giving out.
“Maybe not all of them, but hey, the standard is set low for men,” she said truthfully. Baran could see the harsh way Trinity said it, like she wasn’t just generalizing them.
“Sometimes, it’s nice to feel wanted. To walk into a room and know that your worth it. That all your body has been through makes you still worth appreciating. And being disrespected right now, no matter how bad it sounds, sounds better than what I get at- you know what, never mind.”
Trinity paused, she wasn’t expecting such truth from her new boss tonight. “Better than what?” She asked.
Baran sighed, playing with the previously discarded napkin. “Nothing Trinity. I shouldn’t be telling you things like this, I barely know you.”
“Hey, I don’t mind. And for your information, I’m a great secret keeper. Just ask Huckleberry, I got a whole mb file of him downloaded in this very head of mine,” she said, goofily tapping the side of her head.
Baran laughed. “It’s fine, Trinity, really.”
And it was fine, perfectly fine, until Trinity brought them drinks and Baran was 2 martinis and 3 beers in. That’s when the words started pouring out of her.
“Trinity,” she said, head lazily turning to look over at the younger women. “Do you think I need Liposuction?”
Trinity almost fell off the bench, she was so offended.
“What? Liposuction? What the fuck for?”
Trinity herself was pretty far gone. Head buzzed enough that she was blatantly staring at Baran. Her eyes were roving all over Baran’s face, wide and kind, green eyes inspecting her in such detail that Baran completely forgot she asked her a question. Trinity was close enough that she could see little specks of gold in her iris.
She wished she could just close her eyes and will the world to be a little different. If it was different, she could take that risk and lean in and kiss her. If it was different, it would be okay to want Trinity.
“Baran”
Fuck her name sounded so good coming from the younger women’s mouth.
“Trinity,” she answered.
“Why is someone telling you that you need Liposuction?”
She sighed, motioning to her lower body. “You know since I had my son, some things are bigger than they use to be,” looking down at her thighs, spreading across the bottom of the bench. “Have to fix that,” she said.
“Your body, excuse me for saying, Baran, is absolutely beautiful. Just the way it is.” Trinity said it so genuine that it made Baran speechless for a few seconds.
She had just been wishing for compliments only a few hours ago, but now that she had one, she wasn’t sure what to do with it. “You do not have to say that.”
“You’re right, I don’t. And I probably shouldn’t, but it’s the truth, and if you think I’m lying. Then I’m just gonna keep on convincing you that I’m not.”
Baran leaned her chin on her hand, surveying her carefully, the knit in between her brows meaning she was serious. The lips she saw with a smirk all night, now in a serious straight line on her face.
“You know what?” Trinity asked when Baran didn’t respond. “Can I – um maybe this isn’t – can I give you my phone number?”
She blinked at her, blindly reaching into her back pocket and passing it over. She watched Trinity type in her number in, making the contact her full name.
“Whenever anyone tells you something like that. Whether it’s your husband or a friend or anyone, and they make you feel like maybe their right. I want you to text me and I’ll tell you the truth. The real truth, you got that?” Trinity said, handing back Baran’s phone.
“You didn’t text yourself from my phone so you have my number,” she said, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say that wouldn’t end in her crying on Trinity’s shoulder or kissing her on the mouth, and both options were impossible. Both options were wrong.
“I’m not – this isn’t a ploy to get your number to abuse it, Baran. You need me, you got me. If you don’t, then you don’t.”
Baran let her hand find Trinity’s this time, just a gentle brush of their fingers against hers before she gathered the nerve and interlaced them. Both of them dropping there eyes to where they were connected, neither moving away.
“Tell me I’m misreading.” she said quietly, and Trinity looked over her shoulder, back toward the bar to see if anyone else was around.
“You’re married,” she reminded Baran, as if she needed to remember, as if she wasn’t constantly haunted by that fact.
“To a man that has absolutely no respect or love for me,” she answered bluntly.
She watched Trinity’s jaw tighten in real time, their hands still intertwined. “It would still be wrong.”
“But you want to,” she said softly.
Trinity looked up to her and Baran could see it plainly on her face, better than she could read anyone else she had ever known, the want, the conflict, the need.
“I think you know the answer to that”
Baran nodded, looking away. “I should go,” she said, pulling her hand away as Trinity turned hers over, like she was going to take it more securely.
They both got up to go their separate ways, with Trinity catching Baran’s wrist. “I mean it, text or call me if you need me, I’ll be there.”
“You don’t even know me,” Baran pointed out.
“Yes, I do.” Trinity said softly, and the older women knew she was right. Trinity hesitantly lifted one arm, and her hear stuttered in her chest. She met Baran’s gaze and gave her a nod.
Hugging Trinity Santos felt like she’d never been hugged before in her life. She was so warm, so welcoming, and she enveloped her like she was meant to be there. Their whole bodies pressed together, Trinity’s chin on her shoulder, like they had hugged a thousand times before this, like this was a habit they had every day after a long shift.
She felt a pressure build up in her chest, the burn of tears clawing their way up her throat. How long had it been since she had been hugged from someone other than her kid?
Trinity pulled away first, her eyes still closed while Baran’s skin was still buzzing.
“I- I should go check on Javadi,” Trinity said, her hand trailing down Baran’s arm to her hand. She squeezed once and let go, and then she was gone.
***
The next day Baran got ready for work. Doing her curly hair routine in the shower, finding her favorite scrub top, the one with the triangle cut collar, then meticulously going through her Lululemon collection to see which color gave off the vibe she wanted to emulate for her first day: lavender- the color of relaxation, self-care and grace. Finally, making some toast and eggs with her tea as she finished packing her lunch she started making last night.
Inside her sleek black lululemon lunch bag she got last November, was where she packed her chicken salad sandwich… but instead sat celery and carrot sticks. With a little note inside.
Don’t forget what I said, that bread will not help
On any other day she would thank Salman, thank him for helping her restore her old body. But with last night’s conversation with Trinity still fresh in her mind, she realized that there was nothing to restore. Her body was fine just the way it is. She was fine just the way she is.
She grabbed the sticky note and walked to the trash to rip it up.
Then as she was packing everything up to go, she grabbed her phone to dial Salman, to give him a piece of her mind. Instead it was Trinity’s number she dialed.
“Hello?” Trinity asked, and Baran remembered that her name wasn’t saved in Trinity’s phone yet.
“It’s me,” she said quietely.
She heard the intake of breath on the other side of the line, “Baran,” she said immediately.
“Can you meet me somewhere?” she asked, because as much as she needed to talk, she was also determined to make a good first impression via a bribe of gourmet bagels.
“Anywhere.”