Emeralds

Twenty-eight.

"Well I'm glad you already have a plan of how to spend our week," I tell her. "I'm lucky I could make a dream of yours come true." I can feel her stop breathing for a few seconds then lets out a long breath and her tensioned muscles relax a little.

We reach Paris' airport and wait for our bags. Leen looks around with eyes full of expectations and excitement, I can almost see flames in her pupils.

"Aren't you tired?" I ask her.

"Tired?" she gasps. "Now the day begins!" She takes my hand in both of her hands and squeezes it. "Thank you."

We've been married for less than a day, but the amount of happiness I'm feeling is enough to feed me for an eternity. I would look at her almost every minute, making sure she's still there. The idea of having her by my side, looking into my eyes, and sitting next to me after a whole year of waiting and longing, is just too overwhelming I don't think I can quite comprehend it.

I would literally feel ecstasy by just watching her talk or eat or even get lost in thought; it's like my favorite movie. Each tiny detail about her interests me, I've never thought that kind of feeling exists.

We arrive at the hotel later in the evening.

"Bonsoir monsieur," the receptionist greets me.

"Bonsoir, j'ai fait une réservation depuis un mois," I say.

"Comment vous vous appelez?" she asks with a formal smile.

"Adam Mostafa."

"Oui monsieur, votre réservation est pour 7 nuits et votre chambre est numéro 24," she says handing me the door card. "Bonne vacances."

"Merci beaucoup," I say taking the card, and turning to leave to find Leen looking at me with a look of amazement.

"Woah, you never told me you could speak French!" she says admiringly.

"You haven't asked," I smile playfully taking her hand and motioning toward the elevators. I press the button and we wait until it descends.

"A guy who can speak more than one language is really..." she breaks off, probably rethinking if she should go on, "umm... attractive."

"Well, I'm happy my wife thinks I'm attractive," I smirk proudly.

"Ohh look at him getting all cocky," she says as if talking to herself. "So, do you speak other languages?"

"Italian," I say. "Not so good though." We get in and the door closes.

"Mashallah!" her eyes widen. "Arabic, English, French and Italian! I think you should be the teacher not me," she laughs. "However, one day, I'll be really good in Korean," she says proudly.

"I'll be fluent in Japanese by then," I fold my arms. "I'm really smart you know."

"Eww," she fakes disgust, "you've changed a lot, Adam."

We get in the room, and I through myself on the bed, and feel like my muscles loosen one by one. "So," I say turning over to face her standing in front of the window, "what do you wanna do first?"

"What time is it?" she asks, seeming a little nervous when she turns around and sees me.

"Hmm," I check my watch, "7:15."

"Maybe we can change and go for a walk?" she suggests.

"Great," I say getting up. "So what about change, have dinner in some restaurant, then go for a walk?"

"Sounds perfect," she smiles warmly, trying to hide some feeling. I wonder if she's still uncomfortable around me.

When we're done getting dressed, I grab a black jacket that was thrown on a chair. "Leen!" I call.