Twenty-eight
[Adam]
"We'll take two cups of hot chocolate please," I tell the waiter at Coffeeshop Company, Cairo International Airport branch.
"This is so exciting!" Leen says when he's gone. "I have travelled a few times with my family, but this is different."
"I have been travelling my whole life," I say, making myself comfortable on the chair, "and this is quite different." She smiles at me and continues reading Twenties Girl. "That's too girly!"
She looks at the book cover innocently, "Well, guess what, I'm a girl."
The waiter comes back with our order, Leen holds her cup and wraps her fingers around it. "This feels so warm; the AC is too strong."
"Yeah kind of. Why haven't you brought a jacket?" I look at her floral shirt and black skirt.
"I didn't think it'd be that cold, winter is over," she shivers.
"Take this," I take off my jacket, get up and throw it over her shoulders.
"Oh," she looks taken aback. "Thank you."
"Are your cheeks turning red?" I laugh.
"No, they are not!" she says defensively touching them, which only makes me laugh harder. "It feels so warm," she says wrapping her arms around herself, taking in the warmth of the jacket.
"You're so cute," I say looking away but can already feel her blushing.
Half an hour later, they call for our trip. We walk through the tube and into the plane. The flight attendant smiles at us and we take our seats in First Class. When the plane starts taking off, I notice Leen's hands tighten around the armrest that her knuckles turn white.
"Are you scared?" I ask in amusement.
"Yes," she answers nervously. "No matter how many time I've been on a plane, and no matter how much I love travelling, I'll always be scared of planes." She says hysterically then stops abruptly as the tires leave the ground. "Oh my God," she says. "Bismillah (In the name of Allah), oh my God."
I can understand how she's feeling, but it doesn't change the fact that this is hilarious. I try so hard not to laugh, I put my hand over hers and tighten my grip - can't containing the joy of holding her hand finally. "It's okay," I tell her, "planes are the safest means of transportation."
"I'd believe that when there's a ground below my feet," she says closing her eyes.
When we are safe in the air, Leen relaxes a bit. She busies herself with reading, and almost finishes the book when I pull it from her hands and close it.
"What is it?" she asks.
"I'm bored, talk to me," I say putting the book away.
"That's too childish Adam!" she says unbelievingly.
"Well-" I start saying when she interrupts me.
"You can't imagine how happy I was when you told me we're going to Paris," she says. "Although there are a list of places that I've always wanted for a honeymoon, but there had always been that special thing about Paris. You know the Eiffel Tower, the river, the lights, and how it's always the city that resembles love and classiness in any movie. Also I've always wanted to put a lock on that bridge, and maybe come back ten years later and look for it." When she's done talking, she looks at me and smiles sheepishly, probably thinking she sounded a little childish and cliché, or maybe she still didn't get used to talking to me so openly, but all I can think is that she's cute, she's beautiful inside and out. She's a little girl that will never grow up, and I can't help feeling like her father. I put an arm around her shoulders and gently pull her head towards me and let it lay on my shoulder.
"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.
"Yes?" She replies from the other side of the room, looking at the mirror, fixing her hijab.
"Do I wear the black jacket or the grey one?"
She turns to look at me and rubs her chin thoughtfully, "I guess the grey one is better."
"Okay," I say dropping the black jacket on the bed and taking the grey one. "Ready?" I ask her.
"Yup," she smiles enthusiastically.
We walk through the old streets of Paris, the brick roads, the beautiful and classy architecture. The air is a little brisk, but it makes it all more beautiful.
"Even the street lights are different," Leen says - totally lost in the surroundings. "They're just... warm."
"Yes," I nod. "They're not distracting."
"Look," she points at a small restaurant around the corner. "That restaurant looks cool."
"I've eaten there before. The food's really good," I say grabbing her hand. "Come on."
The food arrives after what seems like an eternity, and only the sight of the plates approaching makes me realize how much I was hungry.
"So," Leen starts putting her fork down, "how many times have you been to France?"
"Let me see," I think. "Maybe ten times?"
"Ten?!" she exclaims.
"Four times for work, five times with my family, and this time with you," I explain.
"Aha," she says. "I wish I were a flight attendant then."
I don't know why when she says that Reem - the flight attendant who had a crush on me - comes to my mind, and it makes me uncomfortable. "You don't need to change anything about yourself," I say stiffly.
"Father used to bring us to France almost every vacation," I say changing the subject. "My grandma and uncle live here, so we used to visit them a lot. Also our company has a branch here and another in Dubai, and maybe that's the main reason Omar, Mariam and I had to learn French. Father was really keen on that. Aya was so young then, so she's not really good in French. However we haven't been here for a family visit in five years or something."
"Wow," she says. "The more I know about you, the more I find that I don't know."
I smile at her, already wanting to get out my heart and past years so she can know everything about me. "I promise you, there'll never be any secrets between us," I say. "The thing about marriage is to get to live inside the person you love, and get them to live inside you as well." Does this deliver the same meaning as 'I love you'? I hope it does.
She clenches her hands into fists and draws them under the table nervously. "So," I say to change the subject when I notice her reaction, "I was really surprised at the wedding when you introduced me to Salam, and I was really happy she could make it."
Her face immediately lights up and the tension fades away, "Yes! She completed everything on that day," she smiles. "It's scary missing someone that much."
"I know." I miss father that much.
When we're done eating, we go for a walk. Leen seems like corn that would pop at any time from her excessive anticipation to see the Eiffel Tower.
"I wish I had even longer legs," she says and it makes me crack up. She's so busy watching her steps that she doesn't notice the magical metallic curves glowing ahead of us, pointing to the sky.
"Lee, look," I say cocking my head in the tower's direction.
"Oh my God!" she freezes in her spot. "Wow!"
"Come on," I say grabbing her hands. She takes out her phone and takes a picture of the tower alone then hesitates before telling me, "I wanna take a picture of you here."
"Of me alone?" I ask in puzzlement.
"Umm... yes," she says shyly. I stand and she takes a picture, and I only watch her smiling at the photo. I pull her by the arm and make her turn so her back is to me, I wrap an arm around her waist and hold the phone with the other hand taking a picture of us. She then takes the phone and watches the picture for some time then looks at me and smiles, "You make me happy."
If I say those are the words I've been waiting to hear my entire life, it would be an understatement. If I say those words are powerful enough to shake my world, I would need a thesaurus to learn stronger words than shake. However, all I know is that making the one you love happy, and hearing it directly from them, changes your world, and brings a life to your days. Even if you've always ranked the first in school and university, and even if you've been always the best in work, you wouldn't know real success like making someone truly happy. Let alone someone who really means to you.
I don't think I need time to know that I love Leen. I know I love her since the day I wanted her to be mine, and wanted to be hers. The day I decided to dedicate my life to her as my wife and never consider any other girls. Everyday I will love her more. Everyday I will wake up, look at her, and make the same decision all over again...
"I will always make you happy inshallah," I say. "I love you."
~~~
An update in just four days! I hope you enjoy :D
Vote and leave your comments, and pray for your adam.. <3
Nouran.