Emeralds

Twenty-six.

Twenty-six

[Adam]

I don’t think I was ever that exhausted in my entire life of twenty-six years. It has been approximately a month, but I’ve been working non-stop, like saving the world depends on it. I was assigned to six trips to different countries, so in conclusion, I spent about fifteen days out of the country, and the days I spent here were actually divided between working in our newlywed house and shopping for the wedding, plus meeting the wedding planner with Leen and Mariam, as well as planning the honeymoon.

Leen wasn’t feeling any relaxed either, we all meet almost everyday, and I can clearly see how the black circles around her eyes develop, and how tired she looks, and she gets dizzy suddenly because of her anemia. But the thing that keeps us all going, and actually feeds us power, is that we’re happy. We are all ecstatically, ridiculously happy; we’d be dying to sleep, and our legs just can’t help us stand anymore, but we’d be smiling. I’d look at Leen seeking assurance and when she catches me looking at her she’d smile.

Isn’t it normal to smile to the person you’re getting married to tomorrow?

My phone rings and I pick up, the interior designer tells me that the dining room is arriving today. I text Leen telling her that we have to be at the house in an hour and rush into the bathroom to take a shower. When I’m all dressed up and ready to leave I remember that I haven’t told Mariam yet. I hurry to her bedroom and knock the door but she doesn’t answer. I realize she’s still asleep so I open the door and call her.

“Mariam!”

“Hmmm,” she mumbles in her sleep. The thing is, when we’re awake working all day and going home late, we’d be walking and talking like zombies; our bodies are programmed to do what has been on our mental To-Do list all day, and so we barely feel anything. However, when our bodies touch the bed, it has greater gravity than Jupiter.

“We have to go to the house now,” I say urgently. “The dining room is arriving.”

“Hmm,” she says pulling to covers over her head.

“Wake up, Mariam!”

“Just five more minutes,” she says desperately.

“Am I waking you up for school?” I say walking to her bed.

“Two minutes,” she says and instantly falls asleep again.

I pull the covers, notice it’s late February, it’s still a bit cold. “MARIAAAM!”

“Brrr,” she says rubbing her arms. “Are you crazy?” she says pulling the covers back.

“We really need to go now!” I say, but there’s no hope. I lift her off the bed and carry her in my arms. She gasps and tries to get back to the bed but it’s too late. I open her bathroom door and put her down. “Now get ready,” I say and close the door behind me as I leave, catching a glimpse of her swaying in front of the sink.

Ten minutes later, she comes downstairs with red buffy eyes and messy hijab. “You look–”

“As if I’m about to murder you,” she interrupts me. “Can we at least have breakfast?”

“We’ll eat there,” I say getting up with Aisha on my arm. “You hungry you little princess?” I ask her in a childish tone and Mariam shoots me a look.