The Autumn Love

Twenty Three

The last lines were playing and she was getting all red. He had pressed his lips tightly and the wrong timing was alarming him. Making a hissing sound, although inaudible, he was frustrating. He did not know earlier that the respective song would make things such cheesy.

The shiny board of the restaurant was shimmering in the dark and Kinza was finding it hard to sit anymore. 

That restaurant, that place, that table, that chair, that fawn straw and that bracelet with her hair were again going to cast the spell. 

Previously he was sitting in the extreme right corner and now they both were going to take the same seats. In the matter of just four and a half months she had travelled to the stage where she was walking by his side. That moment clicked in her mind when a cameraman twisted her foot just to capture him going. She was standing there alone, in the mob, cheerful mob, gloomy. 

Soon the flashback stopped and she found herself on the seat facing him, in the right most corner, again. He was asking for her choices and she was not living in the moment. She was Kinza Kareem at that time, forgetting Kinza Abdullah. She was the fangirl. She was not his wife anymore. She was the same Kinza who had misperceived him as any doppelganger. She was staring at his shoulders, and then at his wrist, and then at his index finger that were tapping the table. She remembered that Kinza who was ashamed, ridiculed and disgraced. She was remembering the girl whose body temperature was moving up. She remembered each thousandth part of time but the reality was asking her to believe in it. The reality was speaking aloud but she preferred to live in the past. The nostalgia was strong, strong enough to take her away.

"Kinza, are you fine?" Abdullah did not know what she was feeling.

And she continued looking at the bracelet with the remains of her memories.

"Kinza?" He was getting worried now.

And she looked at him. He was near. He was sitting with her, only. There was no man to offer her an autograph.

"You have been there lately, right?" This was the very first question in their married life and she had to ask it.

"Yes, probably before this all mess in my life." He replied honestly.

"Mess? Yes, mess it was." She replied while staring at the fawn straw.

"Do you have some regrets?" His eyes grew serious.

"Yes." The shine in the glass faded.

"Do they belong to me?" It was the high time.

"I don't know. I only have the treasure of memories." She replied with her head down.

"Where I am standing in those memories?" His face appeared a little frustrated.

"Everywhere." She did not know how her lips parted.

"Are you serious?" The oriental black eyeballs beamed.

"Why are you asking it?" She was still inhaling his scent.

"I need to know." He replied.

Their eyes turned at the waiter who was serving food on their table. The noise was fading eventually.

"Have your food. You did not have lunch properly." Kinza was serious while sprinkling a little salt on his platter.

"Why you are doing it all?" Abdullah asked meaningfully.

"Because there is less salt in every dish, I know. I had been there." She replied.

Abdullah pursed his lips before saying,