Too Little, Too Late

50

When Ibrahim told her he'd been thinking of them getting a house they wouldn't have to share with other people by having their own compound, Ayra backed up the idea. When he brought the same papers she'd seen in his walk-in, she stepped into her acting shoes once again and delivered the perfect gasp when she saw the house he'd called perfect; the house she knew was perfect too.

"How soon can we get it?" She asked, looking up at him with eyes that she prayed shone brightly. "And how soon can we move in?"

Ibrahim, sincerely happy that she'd bought the idea, smiled down at her. "You're that excited about it?"

She nodded. "Yes! Look at the house, Ibrahim. We have to get it before someone else does and I don't care what anyone says but we are going to move in as soon as we can. We're also picking everything it'll contain from scratch."

He laughed and pulled her close, kissing her hair. "We'll go tomorrow In Shaa Allah and close the deal. Is that fine?"

"Perfect!"

He laughed and kissed her hair yet again before his hand found hers and he squeezed gently before leading the way in the direction of her room. "Now, come and tell me how your trip went. And don't leave any detail out."

She laughed, nodding. "I wouldn't dare."

She told him half-truths and half-lies; that she and Ibtihaj had explored places and cities in England with their favourite being London before they briefly passed through the Netherlands and proceeded to Turkey. She told him about the coffee flavours she loved and the ones she hated; about the dishes she would love to try again and those she despised; about the hotel memories she would hold dear and how the flight attendants were always nice; and then about the resort in Costa Casa that she never visited.

Ibrahim listened to her every word, his expression nothing short of beautiful. He stared at her as though he had enough time to memorise every inch of her face and also as though he only had that one moment left to live. It nearly made Ayra cry.

Along the line, after he told her she'd had a lot of fun, he closed the space between them and kissed her. Ayra let him, his new scent of wood and spice painfully intoxicating. He kissed her like his life depended on it and she kissed him back, aware of every cracking sound coming from within her. He pulled her closer and her fingers weaved through his curls; a pattern she memorised one more time. Her zipper got pulled down and she helped him with his shirt, her hands a little shaky while his stayed steady. Ayra told herself not to cry, especially when he smiled at her, tracing her lip with his thumb, before saying she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Then he kissed her again, moving things further one step at a time.

In his every movement and every kiss, Ayra heard clearly all that he was saying; that he missed her; that he loved her. It broke her over and over. He was gentle and he was kind and she took it all, giving back what she had left to offer; broken pieces that may never mend; a heart that was beyond battered.

They found their releases together and his kiss swallowed her small gasp. Ibrahim held her close until they caught their breaths and then they lay on their sides, faces mere inches apart.

"You okay?" He asked softly.

She nodded. "I am." Another half-lie and half-truth. She then put her hand underneath her head and smiled at him. "What do you plan to do with your shares and with the applications you both from them?"

He raised a brow. "We're having business talks now?"

She let out a small laugh. "Answer me, Ibrahim."

He grinned. "Okay." He mirrored her position, his hand going under his head. His grin then shrunk to a small smile. "My shares have been liquidified so the money's sitting pretty in my bank accounts and God, the sum is so huge. I'm being told to invest in a company or establish my own solo company but those ideas aren't appealing to me. I don't know what I want to do yet and I don't want to be in a rush. I want to take it one day at a time, with you."