At His Mercy

29 Aya

The bride is nervous. I see her hands tremble in her lap, the chain of her purse is wound so tight around her hands her knuckles are white. The flawless veneer of makeup doesn't quite hide the anxiety in her face. she adjusts her lengha, pulling it in and off the couch to make room for the nervous groom sitting next to her. They look so young. He stands suddenly as if to automatically give her room, unsure whether he has done something wrong. she looks up at his abrupt and sudden movement and smiles. understanding the confusion. in that single moment they both mirror the same expression. 'I know its awkward isn't it- sorry!' the relief they find in each other's smiles is endearing. it makes my chest feel tight.
The mother of the bride is upset, I can see the vulnerability under her facade. she smiles for the cameras, the guests and even her daughter whom she will give away very soon. but there are moments when she turns away to put a gift down on the table away from the guests, I see her smile fall away, the strain in her face as she looks on in sadness at the reality of the situation. Soon she will be giving away a part of herself. someone she has cherished all her life.

I think of my own mother. who never even knew her daughter was married, who never knew the truth. I should have told her. The thought sits in my mind for the first time, but my good news was prematurely dashed. How would she have reacted if she found out about the way our relationship suddenly ended? To find out she was the reason it all fell apart. How I chose not to leave her- it would have killed her- if the cancer hadn't .

I think about the impossible situation. It was a disaster from the outset. She would never have let me stay? Mum would have pushed me out and died alone in some bleak hospital.

Without a shadow of a doubt, I know she would have liked Adam. With his sweet courteous manner and mischievous quick wit. He would have ended up looking after us both. . .
I sit and look around at the people at our table. Polished and demure. We are the youngest couple at the table. To my right is a middle aged couple who are visiting from America, Adam knows them from his childhood and they spend some time talking about his father and giving their condolences on hearing about his death. Ami ji is also mentioned and the couple send their regards to her. I sit and listen to them tell us about their children all of whom have grown up and are well educated and recently married. I listen to Adam conversing and feel oddly relaxed. Like a duck to water, he always knows what to say and how to say it. I dont mind being the quieter of the two. 

Even at university he was always the glue that kept us all together.  he seemed to be the buffer. if there were any misunderstandings, or people began to stress, he would use his humour or calm reasoning to lighten the mood and relieve the tension.  perhaps thats one of the main reasons I liked him, because I could just relax and let everything go. Adam would take care of it all. all I needed to worry about was the studying and that was no hardship really when we worked together. 

The couple to my left are older, possibly in their 60's. The woman asks me about Adam and his business clearly trying to establish how important she thinks he is. I stop suddenly realising I don't even know. "He's a businessman." I reply, internally cringing at my own obscure answer. Oh god! How could I have overlooked such a big detail. Adam's turns to look at me as if senseing something is amiss. He glances over my face as if reading me quickly, and turns to speak to the woman beside me.
I listen in fascination as Adam explains the family business the offshore oil rigs he owns and the new way he is expanding into renewable energies. I feel like I'm listening to a stranger.  His voice is peaked with enthusiasm and a relaxed confidence which usually comes from someone who knows they are good at what they do and have little to prove to others.  Listening to him talk I have to supress the urge to ask questions that come to mind when I'm listening to him explain what he does.  I'll ask him another time.

As the music gets louder, Adam leans in a little closer so that he can be heard.  he places one of his arms around the back of my chair and the other on the table in front of me. 

From this position he is all harsh angles, jaws and cheekbones. the golden flecks of in his eyes, the way the brocade twists and curves around his biceps.   the black of his beard a rich contrast to the rich brown column of his throat, which is exposed, is simply beautiful. I want to kiss him there. I want to unbutton his sherwani slowly, undress him. let my fingers trail over his shoulders , under his jacket and across the smooth warm skin there. my mouth is suddenly dry and even before I can think about what I am doing, I lift my hand up to his face and hold it there. the feel of his beard tickles my palm and I cup his jaw and let my finger tips graze his earlobe. 

Non-pulsed he closes his hand over mine and mid sentence turns to kiss the inside of my palm there. removing it from his face he holds it under the table, on his lap squeezing softly to acknowledge how I'm feeling.  without looking at me and still talking, places my hand on his erection and squeezes over it. His eyes flickers back to me whilst he is still talking, half  grinning as he sees me flush furiously. 

Our little PDA, or that which everyone could see above the table cloth seems to have not gone unnoticed. If Adam noticed he doesn't show it. instead he turns his attention back to the stage where the photographers are still having a field day.  All eyes around the table are on us.  some amused, others wistful and some even envious. we exude that newly wed lust that seems to radiate outwards. perhaps it reminds them of what they were once like. all eyes seems to revert back to us and there seems to be a lull in the conversation.  

Quickly, I remove my hand and placed it on the table only to notice the mischievous grin on Adam's face as he challenges me with one of the darkest most sinful looks I've every seen.  I burn under his gaze and if it wasn't for the embarrassment , I would smile back, but instead I look away at the food which is now arriving at our table. 

Fine china dishes with a feast of scents and aromas arrive,  rich in colour and flavour.  my mouth begins to water immediately and I realise I'm ravenous.  I haven't eaten since breakfast and my stomach is actually growling in protest. 

'You and me both' says Adam not looking at me.