“No he wasn’t. He and Sanaubar had Hassan, didn’t they? They had Hassan--”
“No they didn’t,” Rahim Khan said.
“Yes they did!”
“No they didn’t, Amir.”
“Then who--”
“I think you know who.”I felt like a man sliding down a steep cliff, clutching at shrubs and tangles of brambles and coming up empty-handed. The room was swooping up and down, swaying side to side. “Did Hassan know?” I said through lips that didn’t feel like my own. Rahim Khan closed his eyes. Shook his head.
“You bastards,” I muttered. Stood up. “You goddamn bastards!” I screamed. “All of you, you bunch of lying goddamn bastards!”
“Please sit down,” Rahim Khan said.
“How could you hide this from me? From him?” I bellowed. “Please think, Amir Jan. It was a shameful situation. People would talk. All that a man had back then, all that he was, was his honor, his name, and if people talked... We couldn’t tell anyone, surely you can see that.” He reached for me, but I shed his hand. Headed for the door.
“Amir jan, please don’t leave.”I opened the door and turned to him. “Why? What can you possibly say to me? I’m thirty-eight years old and I’ve Just found out my whole life is one big fucking lie! What can you possibly say to make things better? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing!”
And with that, I stormed out of the apartment.