What We Deserve

Part 2: Finding Ground

He drove us back to his apartment he had been renting for the last few months. The ride was quiet, yet thoughtful in a way. He held my hand as he drove and all I could do was think of all the times this never happened with Mo.

Public displays of affection- of any kind- have never been his strong suit.

Even in a car- holding hands- negative.

He was well reserved until we hit our own domicile and then Mohammed would become a passionate beast of sorts. It's why I was sort of surprised this morning when he held me so openly in the classroom. He normally would never do that despite our engagement.

Yet this man.

He openly holds a stranger on the sidewalk.

Holds their hand in his car. Leaves small touches at a bar.

And...well...loses himself on the dance floor.

Stepping out of the elevator, I follow him down the long burgundy hallway that is very plainly decorated. The entire place smells of sandalwood and a slight vanilla aroma.

Which is better than smelling like a rubbish bin- as Mo's original apartment building had.

"Here we are." He smiles down at me and opens the door to 113. Flicking on the light by the door- two lamps in the main living space come on and I want to just sigh heavily.

If I thought the hallway was plain.

Then this apartment makes the hallway look like an over the top display.

Bare white walls, a small two person sofa, one chair at a very sad round table, and a twin size mattress on a six inch tall box spring-so it's off the floor-barely fills the space. Not even a television or radio resides in this apartment. An area rug with a weird floral pattern is the only pop of color to the entirely dull studio.

"I take it the wife got everything?" I try to sound cheery and make light of his situation- but he seems a bit more forlorn about it.

I hope this isn't what my life becomes after Mo and I.

I don't think I could live without my king size bed or my teal wrap around sofa with attached chaise.

"It's easier than arguing over serving spoons and decorative pillows." His attempt at seeming unhurt by it all, fails. "Sorry, it's not much. To be fair though, I am hardly here as it is. I work way too much to even say I have a personal life."

"And why is that? If you had to psycho-analyze yourself?" I ask as I set my small purse down on the table and sit on the chair.

"Huh...is this a consult to see if you wanna take me on or are you really just curious?"

"Well...I've already taken you on as a patient, haha- so I guess it's out of mere curiosity." A soft smile rises to his lips before he sits on the couch just near the table. His over all demeanor in this place seems depressed compared to only a few hours ago where his confidence pulled him through our conversations and experiences.

"And this is what you want to do for your evening?"

"As I see it, we both already had highlights to the evening- so a bit of deepened small talk can't hurt anything." Silence fills the space fast and he sighs and rests his head back on the sofa for a few minutes. "I'll tell you what? You tell me five things you want me to know about you...and then we can decide how the rest of the evening should go."

"Five things?"

"Yeah."

"Are you gonna share as well?"