She Is My Hayaat

Chapter 17: Wounds Untouched, Hearts Unscarred

The past few days were pure bliss. Izhar and I were always out seeing the various parts of the city, shopping in the bazaars and stop-by stalls, or somehow just enjoying time with each other. Everyday we would go on a new adventure, and it was a dream come true. The coast-side restaurants and cafes were soothing with delicious food.

As I combed my hair in the bathroom getting ready for bed, I thought about Izhar and how far we'd come in our relationship so quickly. I smiled as I pulled the strands behind my ears and tied the robe around my waist. I was getting accustomed with the way he always held my hand and kissed my cheeks and forehead. I made my way out of the en suite and to our bedroom. The doors to the coast were open, and the night sky blanketed the water with the moon shining above. I loved it here and everything about it. It was our perfect little happy place.

We'd been in Positano for about seven days now, and Izhar was putting his stuff back in his bags when I walked into our room. I walked to him in confusion and sat on the bed where his carry-on was placed.

"I thought we were going to be here for another week and a half?" I asked.

"We'll still be on vacation for awhile longer, just not here my love," he said looking up from his bags.

My eyebrows squished together in confusion as he walked to the dark wooden closet.

"Where are we going?" I cautiously asked. Is this another surprise?

Izhar walked back to me and put his hoodie on the bed. He warmly smiled and knelt down in front of me on the floor and grabbed one of my hands in his. He took his right hand and smoothed the crease between my eyebrows and pecked me on the cheek.

"We have two more days in Positano, and then we are off to the second part of our honeymoon. Now don't ask where we are going!"

"Um, okay?" It sounded more like a question than a statement.

"On our way to our next destination, we'll stop by in Rome for the day and tour. Okay?" he asked.

"Okay," I nodded.

Izhar got back on his feet and walked to the double wooden french doors that overlooked the Amalfi Coast. He closed the doors and the cascading sound of water turned into a soft hum.

I watched him as he moved around the room getting ready for bed. He was wearing blue plaid pajama pants and a half sleeves gray V-neck shirt.

His biceps hugged the sleeves, and the shirt smoothed over his back and abdomen area. He combed his hair back with his fingers as he turned off the last light in the hallway and made his way back to our bed.

I looked away and moved to my side of the bed. I turned to his side, placed my hands underneath my cheek on the pillow, and waited for him to join me. Izhar climbed in next to me and instantly wrapped his arm around my waist pulling me closer to him. I snuggled my head into his chest and smiled as I traced patterns on his shirt with my fingertips. He hummed under his breath, and the air blew in my hair.

"What song are you humming?" I asked quietly.

"It's not really a song. Just a tune," Izhar whispered back.

The only sounds were coming from our whispers, the coast, and our heartbeats. We became hushed like the water as if we'd disturb unknown forces.

"Oh. By the way, you still owe me a little concert," I said.

He chuckled and his chest vibrated through his cotton shirt. "I don't have a guitar here, so not possible. Sorry."

"You can still sing!" I quietly exclaimed.