Too Little, Too Late

11 (Part II)

The upper floor of the unit – the mezzanine level – was three quarters the length of the lower floor and the family lounge was the first area one stepped into once they'd ascended the stairs.

It was a cosy space with tiles that gave the illusion of a wooden floor. It was simply furnished; a sectional sofa with a lot of cushions which sat on a wide rug, a round wooden topped coffee table and then voile curtains on the windows. There was no TV and Ayra preferred it that way. She put it at the back of her head to check online stores for paintings that could add more beauty to the space.

She turned to look at Ibrahim who was focused on his phone. With a small smile, she turned back to Helen and followed when the interior designer moved in the left direction of the floor, Ibtihaj right beside her.

"Ibrahim called this Ayra's space." Helen said as she opened the door, letting them step in. "It's a kid's room but he said you're not having kids right away so inside of leaving it bare, we should make it a space for you to find peace in."

Ibtihaj fake sobbed. "Love o."

If she wasn't so in love with Ibrahim before, Ayra would have drowned in the love that hit her then. Taking small steps, she stepped deeper inside and looked around.

The room was cosy and it was everything she never knew she wanted; rose gold curtains, a backless lounge sofa with black and pink cushions that took up the entire width of the wall that held that the room's windows, a Persian rug with even more cushions and an adorable coffee table, a shelf for the books she was definitely getting, and then the swing chair that hung in the corner with its own cushions and faux fur throw blanket.

Moved to tears, she turned to look at her fiancé who leaned against the doorframe. She swallowed softly. "Ibrahim..."

"I told you I was going to give you everything. This is the least I can do, Ayra. You deserve this and so much more."

Helen pretended to look around for anything that was out of place while Ibtihaj shamelessly watched everything unfold, gratitude in her chest at the thought of Ayra being treated right. Ayra, on the other hand, smiled at him. "Thank you."

Ibrahim smiled back; his usual small smile. "You're welcome."

Helen cleared her throat then. "Right. Let's move on." She led the way out and she then smiled as she opened the opposite door. "And this, Ayra, is your room."

Ayra's smile dropped and her brows furrowed. Once again she turned to Ibrahim. "My room?"

Ibrahim, who had a slight frown on his face, nodded slowly. "Yes, your room...Is something wrong?"

Ayra's brows furrowed further and her frown fully formed. "No, I just –" She frowned even more. "I thought we'd be sharing a room. That's what I always assumed."

"No...We're not sharing a room, Ayra."

She could only stare at him, unable to explain how she felt right there and then. Ibrahim turned to Ibtihaj and Helen, his smile tight. "Can we get a minute please?"

Helen nodded while Ibtihaj hesitated until Ayra smiled at her, as tightly as Ibrahim had done. Not having any reason to stay back, both women headed towards the other side of the floor. Ibrahim turned back to his fiancé. "Ayra, I never assumed we'd share a room."

"Why? Isn't that supposed to be normal?" She folded her arms. "Couples share a room all their lives."

"No they don't."

"Yes they do."

"Ayra, my parents don't share a room. They have their respective rooms and they only sleep over in the other's room when they feel like it. I thought that's normal for every family."