What Not To Do When You're In Love

14 | Present

14 | Present

With a coffee mug in my hand, I stood across Hasan on the porch, waiting.

"What is it?" I asked. "Why did you call me outside all alone? I mean just imagine whatnot they must be thinking inside!"

He raised a brow. "I don't want to, because I don't care."

"Just tell me what you must already!"

My life would be a lot easier if I did not have to deal with a husband of this level of nonchalance, I thought, shaking my head.

"Well. It's just that if you assumed I brought gifts for your mother and brothers and not you, which I suppose you have, now is when I enlighten you that you're wrong."

I smiled. "Awesome. I was beginning to wonder what you'd reply with when I suggest you that you should just divorce me and marry Jebrail instead, I mean, seeing how little you care about me and how much about everyone else here - "

But before I completed my sentence, his expression made me stop.

"What the hell, Adinah?"

I was dumbfounded; what was this hell that made him mad in 0.03 seconds?

I remained silent, and he stormed.

"Get this in your head once and for all : you never talk about divorce. It's just not something you can talk so casually about, much less joke like this!"

"Gee, alright," I muttered, "whatever."

He just looked at me with a dissatisfied expression.

"What?"

"What?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I have a lot of reasons!"

I rolled my eyes. "Congratulations. I don't care."

He rolled his eyes now.

"So are you going to give it to me or?" I asked, thoroughly annoyed.

His face got serious.

"You must promise me you will never talk about divorce, Adinah. Never; no matter what happens. If there are problems we will find a way, a way that isn't divorce. Promise me."

Promises were nothing to me. And this? This was something that I'd roll my eyes at. This was something that I would've laughed at. But I surprisingly didn't.

"I promise," I said, words I didn't need to force out, which was questionable; words that weighed more than almost each one that ever passed between the two of us . . . words that cuffed me even stronger that the ones that had pronounced me as Hasan's wife the afternoon of our Nikah.

And after I'd said it, he grinned again, dissolving any tension that had built in the air. "Good."

The grin was beautiful, I won't lie. It made me want to keep looking, lest it disappeared.

But it did not disappear - it widened, as I watched him reach to his back pocket and produce a small velvet box.

"You must open this after I'm gone," he smiled, and then stood up.

"Wait!" I said, now holding it, feeling the smooth velvet.

"Wait for what?" He asked.

"For me!"

He stared.

"Uh, my - my coffee! My coffee isn't finished yet. Wait at least till I'm done!"

I couldn't believe it. He probably couldn't believe it either.