Before Our Dawn| ongoing

twenty

chapitre vignt
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The sun rose high above the city of Paris. It was a day of unblemished beauty, where the world seemed to come alive with vibrant colors and the promise of joy. The morning progressed slowly; the sky transformed into a canvas of azure blue, adorned with cotton candy clouds that lazily drifted by, the air carrying the scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass.

Isra watched a bird fly by, soaring through the expanse of the sky, and in that same way, she felt like she was flying.

"What are you looking at?" Marcel inquired, a mellow happiness in the crevices of his expression.

Brown eyes, radiant like the sun, drifted toward him, her smile painted with strokes of mirth. "Nothing of importance."

"Is that so, Madam Moreau?"

"Yes, Monsieur Moreau."

On a sunny summer morning, Isra had walked out of the courthouse with her husband, a new woman, with a new identity.

Isra Mansouri had become Isra Moreau. She had felt the transformation as she stood there in front of the cleric, as Marcel had slipped the gold wedding band onto her finger, and as she had worn him his own. This was who she was now-this was the life she would forever live.

If she closed her eyes, she could picture herself as a little girl in the Casbah. She could picture Haadi and his parents and her family. They stood together, bidding farewell to the innocence of yesteryears. How long ago had it been? Only three years prior? Ah, but it felt like centuries had passed, it felt like time had slowed since the day she stepped foot on the ship that brought her to Paris and to this very moment.

Marcel held the precious marriage certificate in his trembling hand as if it were a treasure worth more than diamonds. As if pulled by an invisible force, they moved closer, their bodies magnetically drawn together. He gathered her in his arms, enfolding her in a cocoon of love. His heart beat like a melody against her ear, and she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her hair. She clung to him, her fingers curling around the fabric of his crisp white shirt, anchoring herself to him, to this memory in time.

Marcel's voice quivered as he mustered the courage to speak those three simple yet profound words. "I love you."

With equal tenderness, Isra whispered the words back. "I love you," she breathed, her sacred promise.

The world around them seemed to fade into the background as he pulled back slightly, his hands still cradling her face, his eyes refusing to look away.

They were, however, interrupted as Tarek and Samia approached them.

Samia's tearful eyes reflected the pride and happiness in her heart as she reached forward to hug her daughter. "My darling, you look so beautiful. I'm so proud of you."

Tarek placed a firm hand on Marcel's shoulder. He gleamed with a father's pride, silently acknowledging the man who had won his daughter over. "You take good care of my daughter, Marcel. I trust you to make her happy."

He sent a fleeting look of adoration her way before addressing her father. "I promise you, sir, I'll love and cherish her every day of my life."

Samia wiped away her tears and smiled at Isra. "I can't believe my little girl is married."

She hugged her mother again, and then her father. "Thank you both. I love you with all my heart."

It was hard to believe that this was the mother and father she had lived her childhood with. This was the mother who chided her whenever she broke her curfew, and the father who had once brought her treats home after work when she had been a child. These people were her family, and it was time to leave them to create her own. The realization was bittersweet.