My eyebrows flew up. “What?”
She shrugged. “No clue. Farsi has lots of weird little sayings that don’t really translate to English.”
Hmm. Leo had called me something new this morning, but I hadn’t been in the right mind frame to ask what it meant. “What does…jeeg…uhh, I can’t remember what it was.”
“Jigaram?” Parisa asked.
“Yes, that’s it.”
Tara’s hand went to her heart and she sighed. “Leo said that to you?”
My omega preened at her reaction. “What does it mean?”
“Listen,” Parisa started. “I promise it’s actually very meaningful. But technically, it meansmy liver.”
“Did you sayliver?”
“You cannot live without liver,” Bibi said.
Tara and Parisa nodded sagely.
“Leo called me his liver? And that’s romantic?”
“Yes, of course,” Tara said. “You should tell him jigareto bokhoram.”
Oh god. The phrase was pronounced with that back-of-the-throat sound I had no idea how to make. “What does that mean?”
“I love you,” Tara responded at the same time Parisa said, “I would eat your liver.”
A laugh burst from my chest, and it felt warm and strange after the hollowness I’d carried with me the last few days. “I guess I can’t judge too harshly. Swedish has some phrases like that. Sötnos is like sweetheart, but the literal translation is sweet nose.”
“Eh,” Bibi said as she got up from her seat. “Liver more important than noses.”
Blossom squeaked and jumped off Tara’s lap, her nose twitching as she landed softly in the grass.
“Blossom might disagree.” Parisa grinned.
“Azizam, come with me.” Bibi gestured for me to follow as she headed toward the greenhouse, my little bunny on her heels.
64
Lucy
I followed Bibi and Blossomthrough the garden until we emerged around the back of the greenhouse. My breath caught at the riot of flowers in neat rows on the ground in front of us. It was vibrant and stunning and soLeo. His fingerprints were so clear over all of this beauty, and it made me want to cry.
“It’s so beautiful.”
Bibi put her arm around me, her grip strong and sure. We stood in silence and watched a delighted Blossom zoom around the garden.
Bibi patted my cheek and gestured at the field. “You pick flowers.”
“Me? Are you sure?”
She nodded and walked into the greenhouse, leaving me alone. Except I wasn’t really alone. The garden was bursting with life. Bees buzzed around me as I selected my favorite blooms, cutting them with the shears I found on top of an old tree stump.
The breeze washed the scents of flowers and pine trees over me, making my soul ache for my alphas. My chest still hurt with Wilder’s rejection, but I drew strength from the beauty around me and didn’t collapse.
It wouldn’t be long before the summer veggies and berries would be ready. I bet Blossom would love to go blueberry picking with me. I usually went several times a season—once with my moms, once with my friends, and once with Felix for his annual blueberry-picking costume. It was actually the first picture I’d ever posted to his account—Felix wearing a bow tie I’d embroidered with little blueberries. The second year, our audience had grown and I’d embroidered him a vest to go with his tie. Everyone was excited to see what I’d add to hisoutfit this year. I hadn’t decided yet on a blueberry hat or pants, but I definitely wanted to make Blossom a costume that turned her round little body into a blueberry.
