Silence feels like a third presence with them in the car. She still feels overwhelmed. Her heart has yet to calm down and her hands have yet to stop shaking. It has been a long time since she dealt with crowds. She had forgotten how claustrophobic it could become if she did not go into it with the right mindset.
In her defense, she did not expect people to greet them upon landing. They were prepared for departure, opting to arrive separately as to not draw too much attention. She thought that once they reached foreign soil, they would have the anonymity that travel afforded.
How things have changed.
He still has not said anything, but she knows by the tic in his jaw that he is not pleased. He focuses on the tasks at hand. Driving them to their destination. Stopping by the supermarket for a quick run for necessities and food. Unloading their luggage from the car. Unpacking their stuff.
The minute he no longer has any distractions keeping him from addressing the elephant in the room, she stands in his way. He cannot quite meet her eyes, and she knows him well enough to understand that he is trying not to release his anger out on her.
"Hey," she says gently, placing her hands on his chest. He visibly stiffens. "We're on our honeymoon. Are you planning to ignore me the entire time?"
He maintains his silence. She can hear him thinking so hard that it makes her heart ache. Her poor husband, beating himself up for something beyond his control. She reaches up to embrace him, realizing that she needed his reassuring touch just as much.
"Can you hold me, please?"
Without a moment's hesitation, he wraps his arms around her tightly, pulling her into a crushing hug. They stay in each other's embrace for a long time before he finally talks to her, whispering in a broken tone, "I am so sorry."
She wants to pull back and look at his face, but he keeps his strong hold on her. "Why are you sorry?" she asks softly, hating how hard he is on himself. "What happened back there was not your fault."
"I should have anticipated it," he says, regretful and apologetic. "I should have prepared another route for us instead of the usual exit. There are people here I could have called when we were still at home. Just in case something like this happens. But I didn't. And I put you at risk... I can never forgive myself if something happened to you."
Unable to keep still, she pulls back and holds his face in her hands. He looks so downcast that it makes her eyes water. "Baby, look at me. I'm fine. We're both fine," she assures him. "No one could have anticipated that crowd earlier. We have never encountered anything like it before. But now, we know it's possible. So next time, we will be ready."
After a while, he nods, giving her a small smile that does not reach his eyes, but she still considers it progress. She gives him a long, lingering kiss, and it finally dawns on her that she is abroad again after two years. That she is married to the love of her life and they are on their honeymoon.
How things have changed.
"You were wonderful back there," she tells him afterwards. "You took care of me. You were alert and you knew what to do. If I were alone, I would have been too overwhelmed to function properly."
Troubled, he squeezes her waist. "Don't say that. I don't like the thought of you going through something like that alone," he says, looking a little more like himself after their kiss. She runs her fingers through his hair in complete adoration. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
She simply shrugs. "I just feel so lucky. Having you as my husband."
After being with each other for so long, they have developed a sixth sense when it comes to reading between the lines. And so, he clears his throat and says, almost nonchalantly, "We have dinner reservations in an hour. Do we...?"
While he was talking, she had begun taking off her jewelry one by one and leaving them on top of the kitchen counter. Once her white blazer hits the floor, she yelps, finding herself being lifted up in the air bridal style.
Despite his lips on her neck, she still asks, albeit breathlessly, "Can we reschedule?"
He stops, and she mourns the loss. "You have to be more specific."
She bursts out in laughter, and his first real smile since they landed finally appears on his face. "The dinner reservation."
"Of course, we can," he tells her. "As long as you still wear that black dress of yours that I love."
As she whispers racy things in his ear, he carries her towards the bedroom, holding her like precious cargo, and kicks the door closed behind them, finally enjoying the privacy that they both deserved.
