Chapter 26

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"Do you like the salad?" Adnan asked, his head cocked to the side. He had been watching her ever since they arrived, never taking his eyes off her. Afrah found it strange, but not uncomfortable as she was accustomed to.

"I like the salad," she admitted.

"But what about the rice?" He asked, gesturing towards the plate she had barely touched.

"I like the salad," Afrah repeated.

They looked at each other then, and a quiet laugh erupted between them.

"I'm so sorry," Adnan chuckled. "I wanted to try something different, and I thought we should go somewhere exotic. I've never been here before, and it seemed like a good idea."

They were sitting on a balcony, with several empty tables zigzagging across the length of it. A few lamps hung above them on a thin line, the only source of light there was. The moon had retired behind a cloud, but whenever it emerged, the sandstone floor would glow in a strange colour.

"Well, at least you know what it's like now," she laughed. "I'm guessing you'll never come here again."

"Never again," he shook his head, staring at the food in disgust. Afrah shook her head as well, turning her attention back to the food.

"Have you ever had a pet?" Adnan asked, out of the blue.

"I have a dog named Bruno," she said. "He's a German shepherd."

"Why Bruno?" He asked, cocking his head.

"Well, because when I was a... little girl, I used to watch Mickey Mouse and I loved Goofy's dog. But I couldn't pronounce the name 'Pluto' properly, so I used to call him Bruno. Once I got a dog of my own, it was only fitting that he should be called that."

"Do you love him?" He asked.

"To pieces," Afrah replied.

Adnan furrowed his brows, clearly deep in thought. Afrah watched him through her eyelashes, pretending not to stare. Maryam had been right from the first day they saw him. He really was a man worthy to look at. From the curvature of his lips to the perfectly arched eyebrows. His Fulani heritage was visible just by taking a look at his nose, and his beard; his luscious beautiful beard which reminded her of melted chocolate trickling ever so slowly. He was probably the most handsome man she had ever seen. George Clooney was a close second, but he didn't count.

"You're staring, you know." His voice was warm; seductive even. He was looking directly at her, a mixture of curiosity and amusement in his eyes. Afrah felt the heat rising to her cheeks as she lowered her gaze quickly.

"Say something."

"Like what?" She asked, her voice a soft whisper.

"Tell me what you're thinking right now," he said. In the partial darkness of the balcony, he didn't notice himself leaning forward slightly.

"I'm thinking about what you said yesterday," Afrah replied, her eyes returning to his face. For some reason, they kept wandering back to that same place over and over again.

"I said a lot of things yesterday," Adnan mused. "Could you be more specific?"

"You said you've been alone for the last five years," she explained. "What did you mean by that?"

A shadow crossed over Adnan's eyes at her words. He leaned back into his seat, gripping the fork and knife harder until his knuckles turned started to throb.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

"Why?" Afrah asked.

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