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☣
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As we walked together, his hand held mine tightly, his grip firm and unyielding and the presence of his family members around us made my heart race, their eyes fixed on us, I tried to remove my hand from his grasp but he didn't let go. I couldn't help but lower my gaze, feeling embarrassed and nervous all together.
"You both look so sweet together," his mother said as we approached her. Her warm smile softened her face, and she reached out with her little finger, tracing the lining of her eye before tucking it gently behind my ear. "I hope no evil eye will come to you," she murmured.
The gesture caught me off guard, and for a brief moment, I felt my chest tighten. It was the same way my own mother did, when she thought I looked way too beautiful. The memory brought a small, bittersweet smile to my face. A mother's love, I thought, is the same everywhere--pure, protective, and infinite.
She turned to her son, reaching up to do the same for him, but he gently caught her hand mid-air, stopping her. Her smile faltered, just for a second, and I wondered if it was sadness I glimpsed in her eyes.
"Yeah, I know," she said, pulling her hand back.
"No one would dare put an evil eye on my son." She reached out again, and caressed his cheek.
Of course, Who would? Who would dare put an evil eye on a devil himself?
"You children look so good together," she continued,
"A match made in heaven."
I barely held back the urge to laugh, to roll my eyes at the absurdity of her statement.
Yeah surely, a match made in heaven or to say in hell forcefully by the devil himself.
"Let's go," she said, motioning toward the entrance.
The knot in my stomach tightened further. Nervous wasn't the word, I was terrified. Yesterday, I was an ordinary girl with an ordinary life. Today, I was expected to meet people as a royalty or to say their kuwar sa's wife, a role I had never imagined for myself.
