Hezar Bouseh

Well, here's the last chapter of Hezar Bouseh. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, review and add my story to your favourites. Your support of my story has meant a lot - I always enjoy reading your feedback.

Chapter 18

A week later, Christine was out of hospital and recovering in her apartment. Charles was with her, tending to her every need. Erik had not visited her since that afternoon in hospital when he told her that he had no intention of marrying her. Malek left Christine and Charles for a few days, giving the family time together after ensuring that the apartment was safe.

As she looked over at her father who was so attentive to her every need, Christine forgot how angry she had been at him for sending Erik away. She would always be angry with him, but she could never hate him again. He had just been doing what he thought was right to protect her. How could she hate her father when she had nearly died and been separated from him forever?

Christine's face was now a disturbing shade of yellow. The cuts were healing well but the cut on the edge of her lip, as well as the one near her left ear, were probably going to scar. She was forced to wear a sling as the bullet wound was still healing.

"I've made you a boiled egg and mayonnaise," Charles said as he placed the plate in front of Christine. He paused long enough to kiss the top of her head before he took a seat next to her to eat his own egg.

Christine smiled but said nothing. She had hardly spoken in days. What could she say when her dreams were falling apart? She could not even say anything to her father since he knew nothing about the proposal. He would argue that there was no official agreement and Christine could not expect to hold Erik to it. Before she could start the snack, a knock sounded on the door.

"I've come to resign from my position," Malek said as he stepped into the apartment after Charles opened the door. "I'm to blame for your accident, Christine. I don't deserve to protect you any more."

"She needs a bodyguard," Charles protested. He still was not comfortable with his only child being in another country without protection.

"And Erik is the best person to do that," Malek informed him calmly. "The man was torn apart when she was missing. He loves her and will do anything to keep her safe. That is the exact person you want to be looking after your daughter."

Christine scoffed. "Maybe you need to tell him that. He blames himself for not protecting me."

Malek was stunned. "That's ridiculous."

"I know! Malek," Christine began in Persian, hoping her father would not understand what she was saying, "Erik was going to propose to me but now he doesn't think he deserves to marry me because of what happened. Is there anything you can do to change his mind? I want him to marry me. I don't blame him for what happened and he shouldn't blame himself."

"I'll speak to him," Malek promised. "I cannot make any promises that he will listen, but I will try."

"What do you want?" Erik demanded coldly when a guard ushered Malek into the Shah's viewing chamber.

For the past two days – ever since Christine had been released from hospital – Erik had closed himself away in the Palace. Here he would not be disturbed and would be able to wallow in his world of pity. His thoughts were filled with Christine and he was consumed by a sense of loneliness that he knew would never go away. Christine had almost died and there was not a moment that went by when he did not recall her pale and bruised face. It was because of him that she had been injured. He should never have left her.

"I come as a messenger," Malek said as he sat down on a chair next to Erik, unaware of his building anger.

The only other person Erik had allowed in the torture chamber was Christine and she was now safely in her apartment. He did not know how Malek knew about the chamber, but he certainly did not want Malek there. This was a place that he and Christine had shared together. It seemed wrong to have the man there.

"And what is your message?" Erik did not pull his attention away from the mirrors as they reflected the iron trees.

"Christine is still expecting a proposal."

Erik was silent for a long time as he absorbed Malek's announcement. The last thing he had expected was for Christine to still want to marry him. After he had told her that he had no intention of asking her to marry him, he thought she would have long since changed her mind and accepted they could not be together. "I can't ask her to marry me; I don't deserve her. It's because of me that she has that scar on her shoulder and her face is a mess."

Malek rolled his eyes and paced along the window, obstructing Erik's view every few seconds. "Yes, Erik. You were her only bodyguard." Malek's voice was sarcastic. "You have complete responsibility for her injuries."

"What?"

"I'm responsible," Malek ground out. "Charles had you replaced as Christine's bodyguard so you weren't even on duty at the time. You left Christine in my care and I did not give her the attention she needed. It was because of me that she was left unattended. I didn't need to have a shower then, but I decided that I wanted to. It was my negligence that caused her to be kidnapped.

"How can you blame yourself when you weren't there? You were doing what you had to ensure that the President's Security department had the information that it needed to have the men arrested. Which, I might add, has seen that Leroy, Teymour and three other men – including the one you left in this room – charged. They will probably all be executed."

Erik was silent as he digested Malek's words. At least one good thing had come out of this farce. The men could never pose a threat to Christine again.

"She wants to marry you, Erik! Don't be a fool and let your guilt ruin your future with her. How many women do you know can speak four different languages – including Persian – and rescue themselves from kidnappers and cause a man so much grief?"

"One," Erik answered the rhetorical question.

Malek gave a weak smile. "You were willing to disregard tradition to be alone with her. I thought that said enough about your feelings for her. Have they changed so suddenly?" Malek stayed silent for a few minutes. When it was clear Erik was not going to respond, he continued, "She's waiting for your proposal, Erik. She loves you. I'm not sure how much longer her father will be in Iran. If you're going to do it properly, you don't have much time."

The day before Christine was to go back to work, Erik and his parents stood at the door to her apartment. He looked uncertainly at his parents as he waited for the door to open.

Villette and Rashid had made the journey from Qom earlier that day when he had called them. They were standing beside him, looking proud and calm. He could sense his father's relief knowing that his son was going to do the right thing by the two families. He wished he could be as calm as they were. Although he knew Christine was going to say yes when he asked her to marry him, he was still worried her father would protest.

Finally Charles opened the door and stood looking confused when he saw Erik and his parents. It was clear Erik was the last person he ever expected to see on the doorstep.

"Papa, who is it?" Christine asked as she joined her father at the front door. When she saw Erik and his parents standing outside, her face, still lightly bruised, lit with a smile. She let out a gasp of surprise, knowing exactly what was coming. "Come in! Come in!"

Not willing to allow Charles the opportunity to veto Christine's request to come into the apartment, Erik ushered his parents inside. Judging by the way Christine could not wipe the smile from her face, she knew that he had finally accepted that he wanted to be with her for the rest of their lives. He had come to propose.

Erik knew that traditionally the conversation would cover Christine's virtue – which he knew she would not appreciate him discussing – and her skills as a housewife – which was unsure existed – before turning to his own skills. He had a terrible feeling the conversation was going to turn into a monologue. Unlike Christine, Charles had no idea what was expected in a traditional Iranian proposal.

"Although I may not be the best bodyguard in the world-"

"Eshghe man," Christine interrupted him, much to his father's surprise. Apparently Rashid had forgotten that his soon-to-be daughter-in-law spoke Persian.

"-And I failed in my duty of protecting Christine, I am more than capable of looking after her as my wife. I am able to financially support her. And she will be comfortable in my apartment. I'll make sure she lacks for nothing."

"Well, that's good to hear," Charles said, unsure what he was expected to say.

Rashid choked back a laugh, recalling the time he asked Villette's family permission to marry her. Just like Christine's father, Villette's French father had no idea what was expected of him. Despite Erik's French and Iranian upbringing, it meant a lot to Rashid to know that his son was proposing to Christine in the traditional Iranian way.

"Would you like some tea?" Christine asked in Persian with a smile, knowing instinctively where they were in the bargaining.

At the nod from Erik and Rashid, Christine left for the kitchen only to return a few minutes later with a tray of tea and sweets – including pashmak – in her hands. Christine poured a cup for Erik and their parents before sitting next to her father and waiting impatiently for the next question.

"I would like to ask your permission to marry your daughter," Erik said after a long swallow of tea. "I love her and want to spend the rest of my life with her. I blame myself for not looking after her and want to spend the rest of my life making that up to her."

"Do you love him?" Charles asked Christine, more out of a feeling of responsibility than any doubts.

"I do, Papa," Christine answered not having to think about her answer.

Charles sighed. "Then you have my permission, Erik. If it weren't for you and the way you love Christine, I know she would never have been found. It was wrong to send you to America and it was wrong of me to block your phone calls so you couldn't contact each other."

Storing away that piece of information for later, Erik walked around the coffee table that separated to two families and took Christine's hands in his. "Christine, duset daram azizam. Ba man ezdevaj mikoni?"

She smiled so brilliantly that Erik was able to forget that her face was marked with bruises and cuts. All he saw was her happiness as she knew that their dreams were about to come true.

"Yes! Of course I'll marry you. I'll marry you." She threw herself into his arms and sighed happily when she kissed him for the first time in more than a fortnight.

Embarrassed to be seen kissing Christine in front of their parents, Erik pulled away from her sweet lips. "As soon as we can organise it, we will have our namzadi ceremony and I will give you that ring you were asking for at the hospital," he promised with a playful smile as he tapped her on the chin.

Too happy to worry about what his parents would think, Christine just laughed and kissed Erik again, he would learn to accept her kisses in front of others.

After Erik's cousin's wedding, Christine had read about Iranian wedding traditions and thought she knew what to expect. But for the first time in her life, the things she had read in a book did not help. If Erik and his mother had not been guiding her, she would have been well and truly out of her depth.

First she and Erik had exchanged simple silver engagement rings amid a party that included several staff members from the embassy and family made primarily of Erik's Iranian relatives. Her favourite cousin flew from Paris to celebrate with her, making Christine's engagement party better than she could ever have imagined. She also had the enjoyment of placing a ring on Erik's hand and claiming him as hers just as men had been doing for years.

Three days before her wedding, Christine had undergone a beautification process where all of the hair was removed from her body. For weeks she had fought the urge to shave her legs or pluck her brows, knowing that Erik would appreciate her following the tradition. She had been plucking her eyebrows since she was a teenager but they were now the most defined they had ever been. Villette explained to her that shaving and plucking was often a problem in a way it had not been a hundred or so years ago. After all that was done, her hands and feet were covered in henna tattoos.

The festivities continuing, Christine had received a pair of mirrors and candelabras, which would go into Erik's apartment when she moved in with him after their wedding. At her prompting, her father had joined in the Iranian wedding traditions and provided several decorative items for Erik's house as part of the dowry. Finally his apartment would have the feminine touch it needed but she felt she could not add when he had been her bodyguard.

Then the marriage contract had to be signed. After that they had enjoyed the sofreh aghed, a wedding feast that left Christine speechless. During the ceremony Erik had slipped a beautiful diamond, ruby and sapphire ring onto her finger. They were then showered in rice, flowers and coins, much to Christine's delight. This had started the celebrations hosted by his family and friends that seemed never ending. Joining in all of this were her colleagues, their families, which of course included Erik's parents, Dorri, and most importantly her father and cousin, Marceau.

"How many more parties will your family throw?" she asked, glancing at Erik as she lay down beside him on one of the lounges in the Shah's viewing chamber. Her legs twined around his and she rested her hand on his chest.

Erik did not look up from his task of tracing one of the intricate tattoos on the back of her hand with the tip of his finger. "I think that was the last of them. You should know, asalam, that these festivities often last for a several days."

Christine said nothing as she closed her eyes and enjoyed being alone with her husband rather than being surrounded by family and friends. It was strange to think that the only way they could be sure to have time alone was to hide in the room that overlooked a torture chamber. But this room would always hold a special place in both their hearts – but for different reasons. Here they could be alone and in love. They could show their affection for each other without having to worry about offending anyone.

"And what will happen to us, Christine?" he asked softly after a long pause.

She looked at him thoughtfully, trying to figure out what he was asking her. As if understanding what he was asking, Christine rolled over so she was lying across his chest, pulled off his mask and kissed him. She had always loved him and that he was willing to put his own future on hold for her made her love him even more.

Reluctantly she pulled away from his lips and lovingly caressed his battered cheek. "You have your home here."

"That doesn't matter. If you want, we can move to Paris to be with your father and your cousin. I know how lonely you've been." His hands fisted in her hair as he held her close.

His dark blue eyes were so earnest that Christine could not help but smile. "Dorri and your parents are wonderful company. I finally feel as if I belong. I want to stay here, Erik. We belong here."

Erik smiled with relief as he wrapped his arms around Christine's waist and kissed her passionately, showing her in his own way how much her willingness to stay in Iran meant to him and how deeply he loved her.

EPILOGUE - THREE YEARS LATER

The new French Ambassador in Iran sat back in her chair as she stared unseeingly about her new office. It was still the same desk and chair she had used when she had been an assistant when she had first arrived in Tehran, but Christine had finally accepted the office change after a great deal of prompting from Erik.

Although two other ambassadors had sat in this office, Christine had felt the taint of Leroy in it. That was why she had moved her old desk into the larger office, cleaned every surface as if that could somehow wash away Leroy's presence and covered as much as she could with precious things. This office was like a second home with photos and knickknacks that reminded her of so many good times she had shared with her husband.

Just as she was contemplating a cup of chai before her meeting with the Italian Ambassador, Erik and Dorri came through her door. Smiling happily at the sight of her husband and cousin, Christine rushed around the desk and kissed Erik quickly on the lips.

He was still shy about showing affection in public, but had become used to Christine and allowed her brief touches, particularly when he thought no one would notice. Of course Dorri noticed, but she hardly counted. Hugging and kissing Dorri's cheeks as most Iranian women did, Christine pulled them further into her office.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in Persian once she was seated behind her desk.

She gazed at her husband, once again taken by how handsome he was. His blue eyes still fascinated her and she knew she would never tire of gazing at him. If Dorri had not been there, she would have joined him on the other side of the desk, pulled off his mask, traced his jaw line and then kissed him until they were both breathless.

Aware of what Christine was thinking, Erik took a moment to answer her. "Dorri needs to speak to you. So I thought I would escort her and see my lovely wife," he answered, his voice husky, earning a smile from Christine.

"What did you need to speak to me about, Dorri?" Christine asked, refusing to allow Erik to talk for his cousin. There were some habits she refused to break, no matter how long she had lived in Tehran.

"I need a visa. I'm going to France to see Marceau!" Her voice rose at the end, unable to contain her excitement. She passed the paperwork over the desk to Christine.

"My cousin?" Christine asked in confusion as she quickly read through the application. She looked at Erik and saw him grinning, clearly happy at the unexpected turn of events that Christine did not know about. Another glance at Dorri told her everything she needed to know. "You're in love! Marceau has always been my favourite cousin."

A while later, after she had worked her way through most of the application, Christine glanced at the clock and sighed. "I have a meeting with the Italian Ambassador in ten minutes. I'll continue this after and I'll let you know when you can come in to pick up your visa."

Dorri smiled happily, convinced her holiday plans would be perfect. Secretly, she hoped Marceau would propose to her. They had been writing to each other for three years; it was definitely time to get married. After hugging and kissing Christine goodbye, she waited outside the office, leaving Erik and Christine alone.

"I had no idea," Christine admitted softly as she wrapped her arms around Erik's waist.

"Mama assures me that if I had not been so busy looking at you at our sofreh aghed, I would have noticed our cousins sneaking off together and falling in love," he responded with a smile, tapping Christine lightly on the chin.

Christine believed that. Villette seemed to always see what others did not. She knew that her son was in love even before he did. It made sense that she would notice her niece falling head over heels in love with Christine's cousin. She just hoped that if Marceau asked Dorri to marry him, they would live in Tehran. That way, she would have her cousin and her best friend close by rather than halfway across the world in France.

"How long have you known?" Christine asked stroking Erik's left cheek and feeling herself drown in his dark blue eyes.

"About a week."

Her hand stilled in surprise. "You knew and you kept it from me for that long? You owe me!" She gave him a fierce frown only to ruin it a moment later by smiling. "It had better be good; the fate of France and Iran relations depend on it, eshghe man," she laughed.

Erik smiled at her playful tone. Leave it to his ambassador wife to drag politics into it. He knew exactly what she expected as payment. "Hezar bouseh, asalam?"

Christine just smiled. Tipping her head back and twining her arms around his neck, she waited for the first of her thousand kisses. When it finally came, she sighed in delight and returned the kiss with all the love in her heart.