Emeralds

Twenty-nine.

Twenty-nine
[Leen]

"I love you," he tells me. The words slide into my ears and they do magic to my heart beats. What's wrong with them? They don't manage to be stable anymore; they're dancing, they're singing and they're too loud, but it's beautiful. The thuds in my heart threaten to make me lose control, or faint, but I don't want them to stop. I want to freeze this moment, take it from the world and hide it inside the deepest corners of my existence. I want to take it out every now and then and relive it all over again. This feels like heaven, it doesn't seem real. Except that it is.

The thing about the words "I love you," is saying them back. Easier said than done. Words. How strange they are. They come and go without ever asking for permission; sometimes when you're in desperate need to shut up they just come flowing out of your mouth, like a waterfall, like the wind, like all the unstoppable things. However, when you're begging your mouth to form any word, some other times, the words won't just come, won't overcome the barrier of lumps in your throat. This is one of those times when all the words inside me turn to lumps, and I just stand there. In the middle of Paris, in front of the one man I love - my husband. I stand speechless, looking at him blankly as if I'm standing outside an examination hall and these are my last revision minutes before being handed the test. The thing is, I don't seem to quite understand what i'm seeing, although it's not the first time i'm seeing it. Adam is a brand new person standing in my horizon. A person who says he loves me - and let me tell you that - he does prove it. What's so hard about saying "I love you too,"? What's so hard about it when I really do?

I blush.

Well that's definitely the best answer - oh and the one he's been waiting for. Way to go Lee. I'm stupid. Well, it's good to know it myself rather than having people saying it to my face. I know it's a small thing, I know it won't quite affect him in any way, but it would still be disappointing, and I don't want to ever disappoint him. I don't want to ever be the reason he doubts himself or feel unconfident, because for me - and for any girl I guess - he is perfect. He is perfect and he has to know that.

But I don't seem to be the person who tells him so. At least not for now. Or soon, for the record.

He smiles. That kind of lopsided smile, when fine wrinkles form around his eyes and find their way back instantly. That kind of smile that tells you "That's not what I've been expecting, but it's okay." That smile makes my heart melt because of its warmth, those wrinkles get me lost in their maze. He pulls me closer and we walk. He tries to talk about different stuff, maybe trying to make me feel comfortable again, but all I want is to make it up, if only he tells me how. If only I can be brave for once in my life.

"I want to take you somewhere tomorrow," he says, calling me back from my trips inside my head.
"Mmm, is it a surprise or should I ask where?" I smile playfully.
"It's a surprise," he says taking a deep breath. "It's one of my favourite places to be," he goes on, "I wish I could go there more often."
"Okay then," I say. "That sounds interesting."
"You're so interested in me, aren't you," he smirks and I have to contain the urge I get to pull his cheeks. He is the only guy on earth that I find adorable when he smirks.

That night, we order some snacks to the room and stay up late watching TV. Apparently all of the TV shows and movies are French, and I cannot understand a word. Adam keeps changing channels; looking for some english anything, but he doesn't find. He sighs in defeat and looks at me.
"What should we watch?" he asks.
"We didn't ask about the WiFi password!" I suddenly remember. "We can watch anything online."
"Well that's a good idea." He dials up the reception's number and asks about the password. "Merci beaucoup," he says hanging up.
"I still can't get over how you sound mesmerizing when you speak French," I say almost certain that my eyes are shooting hearts right now.
He laughs out loud. "I don't want to imagine how my life would have been boring if I didn't know you."
"I am amazing, aren't I?" I say childishly snatching his mobile phone from his hand. "My phone is charging."
"I didn't ask you why you took my phone," he says leaning back on the bed. A man who doesn't mind his wife going through his phone? God, I wouldn't have wished for someone better than everything Adam is.
"Do you have any idea how boring your apps are?" I ask in mock horror. He has no Viki or Dramafever for God's sake, how does he even manage to stay alive?