Coming Home (English Version)

33. Right Person

Hamdan

I clear my throat in front of the mirror and adjust my headscarf. Okay, here we go again, I need to focus. Layla... or my dear Layla? No, just Layla sounds better. Layla, you have been the best friend I could've asked for and despite all the obstacles... Ugh, no. I don't like that. And when should I go down on one knee? Right at the beginning or should I talk first and then go down? I think it will be better if I do the talking first while standing up. Yeah, step one: the talking, step two: go down on one knee, step three: take out the ring. If only I wasn't stuck at step one this would be really easy, but I want to say the right things and I want everything to be perfect. 

I take the small black box from the bathroom counter and open it up. The larger emerald cut diamond stands out while the other two smaller diamonds in the same shape take their places at each side. I like the simplicity of the lines of the cut and I know she will like them to. Well, I hope she does. At seven carat the size of the main piece is what makes the ring stand out. I wanted to go big with her engagement ring because I have been hiding and fighting this love for so long, that now I want to make every statement as grand as possible, I want to go to the top of the Burj Khalifa and shout how much I love her. But I also wanted to keep the ring functional, something that she can wear everyday without it getting stuck everywhere.

I close the box and try to concentrate on step one again. The words. I don't know what's wrong. I'm good with words, I have written countless poems about my feelings for her and now I'm stuck. There's so much I want to say but I'm struggling to turn what I feel into something I can say. All of my ideas so far seem awkward and just not enough. My phone buzzes with a text and it's from her; she's here. My stomach turns, it's time and I have no idea of what I am going to say. I take the box and put it in the pocket of my kandura to start heading downstairs. Okay, is not that bad, everything is ready for our picnic at the desert, weather is perfect and---

"Hamdan!" She calls my name and then I hear the main door slam shut.

"Coming!" I call back from the stairs.

"Argh!" Is the first thing she says to me when she sees me. "I hate everything and everybody!"

That's my beautiful bride and she's not happy. She's also not dressed for the desert, she's in her regular work clothes with a skirt that falls above her knees, high heels and a blazer. It's all good, I need to relax and she will too.

"What's going on?" I ask her while walking towards her.

She whines and kicks her shoes off. "I had the most awful day at work, I have been on the phone with Saniyah a thousand times and nothing seems to be going how I want to and I forgot the bag I had packed with clothes for today and didn't remember until like thirty seconds ago."

Saniyah is the head of the wedding planning team and the girl who said she didn't want to be bothered with every single detail about her wedding, now seems to have shifted to actually micromanaging every tiny detail. I haven't dared to say anything because her mood has been all over the place lately and I really want to make it to our wedding alive. So I just hold her for as long as she needs to.

"I'm sorry." She tells me without letting me go.

"What for?" I ask her.

"For ruining our plans for today."

"Wait," I push her back, holding her by the shoulders. "We still can make it, your clothes don't matter."

She makes the biggest pout. "Please, don't make me go to the desert."

"But-- but it will be good for you, we can relax, you know?"

She tilts her head to the side. "You know what I really want? I want to have a quick dinner here with you and go home and sleep. Well, Maktoum's home."