That was when Max rang the doorbell.
Nadia opened the door for him. He came in, sat down, and began with sweet words. He said that he wanted to help her, that he could give her money for school, for clothes, for independence.
He placed an envelope on the table.
Then he said what he expected in return.
Nadia looked at the envelope. She looked at it for a long time, then pushed it back toward him.
“I survived worse than you without selling what you’re asking for.”
She picked up her phone and dialed Damien’s number.
Max stood up and tried to speak. She did not even look at him.
He left.
Damien answered. Nadia told him everything calmly, without crying, without shouting. When she was finished, there was nothing left to say.
That evening, Damien came home and sat across from her. He did not search long for words. He told her that it had not been Max’s idea, that it had been his, that he was the one who had proposed the test, the one who had said yes, and that Max had only carried out what he had asked.
Nadia said nothing for a long moment.
She looked at him fixedly, her hands flat on the table.
Damien said that he would understand if she wanted to leave, that he would not blame her, that what he had done was indefensible.
Nadia took a long breath.
“I did not leave when my own aunt was burning my dresses. I am not going to leave now.”
She added only one thing: that it must never happen again.
Damien nodded without saying a word.
Damien gently took her hand and asked her to marry him.
Nadia looked at him for a long time. A smile rose to her lips, but she did not say yes right away.
“I want to marry you, Damien, but not now, not before I get my diploma. I came to this city with a dream, and I do not want to get married before I have achieved it. Do you understand?”
Damien looked at her and smiled.
“I will wait for you.”
The next day, they went together to announce the news to Damien’s father. The old man listened, looked at Nadia, looked at his son, then stood up and took Nadia by the shoulders.
“My son chose well, and you chose even better by setting that condition.”
Nadia lowered her eyes. Damien’s father gently lifted her chin.
“No. You look people in the eye now.”
The years that followed were not easy. Nadia got up early, went to school, came home late, sat at the table with her notebooks, and repeated the same exercises over and over until her eyes refused to stay open.
There were evenings when she put down her pen and told Damien that she would never make it, that it was too late, that she had started too late.
Damien would sit down across from her, open the notebook, and simply tell her to start again.
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