Chapter 72

                                    

                                          
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Afrah would always remember waking up in his arms. That slow, languid fluttering of the eyelids before her eyes focused. The difference today was that she woke up flush against his chest, with Adnan's hands wound tightly across her back. For a moment, she didn't move, inhaling his scent deeply. Memories of the night before returned groggily, and she found herself grinning like a loon. When he stirred underneath her, she froze. 
                          
"It's okay. You can continue what you were doing," Adnan mumbled into her hair, his voice in that heavy, seductive zone where it always was just after he'd woken up. Afrah loved the throaty way he sounded, and it was one of the guilty pleasures she enjoyed every morning. 
                          
As she tried to slide off his chest, he held her in place with his arm, pulling her up higher until her nose was right next to his chin.
                          
"Good morning, my sweet little dove," he said with a lazy smile. 
                          
"You did not just compare me to a bird, Adnan," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. 
                          
"I thought it was cute."
                          
"It's not," she replied. "How would you feel if I called you a handsome turkey?"
                          
Adnan was silent for a few seconds before he smiled at her. "Touché," he grinned, rolling off the bed. 
                          
"Did you have a good night?" he asked. 
                          
"I did," she replied, blushing heavily. 
                          
"Good," he muttered, looking at the time. Afrah rolled off him slowly, taking the covers along with her. He watched as she dashed to the bathroom, laughing to himself when she stumbled at the doorway. 
                          
All through the morning, they rarely spoke. Occasionally, their eyes would meet and Afrah would look away instantly with a heavy blush on her cheeks. Adnan said nothing about this, more so because he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. He was content in simply looking at her, and watching the quirky way she held the knife while slicing the potatoes, a finger on each side and her index finger above it. They worked in silence, the prospect of an impending breakfast hanging in the air. 
                          
Even when they sat at the table to eat, words were rarely exchanged. Adnan thought she looked cute trying to avoid his gaze, while Afrah thought he was being ridiculous for not talking to her. 
                          
And then her parents came. 
                          
It was to be expected after all. There was no way on earth that her parents wouldn't come and see her after hearing the truth. But she'd thought they would give it some time before they actually came to see her. 
                          
They were sitting in her bedroom when the security man rang, and Afrah immediately sat up as Adnan answered. 
                          
"I'm sorry," he said, looking at her bashfully. "I shouldn't have told them."
                          
"It was the right thing to do," she said. "I didn't have the courage to do it, and I thank you for being courageous on my behalf."
                          
"You know I'd do anything for you, right?" His eyes softened as he smiled at her, and he reached out and took her hand, a simple gesture which he'd perfected so that it made her want to melt into his touch, small as it was. It surprised her just how much she loved this man. This thoughtful, loving, caring and kindhearted man who always put her first in everything. 
                          
He stood up slowly, holding the door for her. "Are you coming downstairs or should I turn them around gently?"
                          
It was at that moment that Afrah realized he was her first love. She'd never even thought about it that way. But Adnan was the first man she'd actually felt this intensely for. He was the first man she'd wanted, emotionally, physically, mentally and psychologically. He was her soulmate; the one she'd been sent down to earth to look for. And now she'd found him, and he was hers to keep.