Emeralds

Forty-six.

Forty-six
[Adam]

Patterns and colours; aren't they beautiful? The intensity of greenness, the complexity of her smile; the gracefulness of her steps; are't they all beautiful? The girl who's coloured my life with the colours of the morning, who's added warmth to my winter days and blew a cooling breeze on my summer days. The girl who waits for me and makes me wait like I've never done before. The girl I love, and whom I'd do anything to stay by her side. My wife. The heroine.

I've never been so proud of anyone before. When I was younger, I thought women loved to be praised for their husbands' work and be known by their husbands' names, but I never thought a man would love that. Until I was pointed at at one of Leen's fan meeting events and I heard a girl saying 'he's Leen's husband, whom she wrote about.' Yes. I'm Leen's husband, I'm the one who was hugged by the carvings of her letters. How is that supposed to make me feel other than happy? And proud.

My phone rings and I pick up.
"Is the busiest man alive working tonight?" Ahmed asks, referring to the workaholic I've become.
"I don't think so, it's Thursday and Leen is going to be really mad if I spent the whole night working and woke up late the next day, her mother has called us over for breakfast."
"I'm glad to hear that," he says. "I'll meet you at six, to play soccer."
"Wow, it's been a while."
"Since we've became fathers," he agrees. "Anyway, don't be late or I'll tell Mariam that you forgot her birthday last week and I rescued you."
"You sure are the greatest friend there is," I say sarcastically. "See you at six. And I did not forget her birthday, I was just a bit late to remember."
"Whatever, brother, see you." he laughs.

I close my lap top and get off the desk, stretch my limbs and back and walk to the coffee machine at the far end of my office, next to the door. Omar comes in and nods when he spots me by the door.
"I thought you'd leave early today," he says.
"I'll finish up a few things and leave, Ahmed will be waiting for me."
"Tell him I say hi," he says taking a seat at my desk.
I pour another cup of coffee and take it to him.
"Too much time has passed since we've worked together," he starts.
I take a sip of coffee and put down the cup and wait for him to go on, he doesn't, so I speak. "I know," I nod, "years just pass by scarily. I feel like it was yesterday when I told you I'll work with you."
"I want to tell you something, but I don't want you to think I'm saying so just because everything is better between us now."
"Go ahead," I smile knowingly.
"I think I've been too harsh on you, ever since father died," he looks everywhere except at me. And it's typical of Omar, whenever he's being genuine, he looks away, maybe embarrassed of how vulnerable he sounds when he apologizes and when he shows he cares for someone. "I should have cheered for you when you did what you loved, I should have been more than a big brother, I should've been your friend like I once was. These long years have taught me that it's as important to be by someone's side as it is to be at their back."
I open my mouth to speak but he continues, "I hope whenever you look at me from now on you don't think of the raws we had and the harsh things we said. I hope you remember when we used to play together in the past, and when we laughed at the same things when we were older."
"It's been long since I've forgot we fought over anything, Omar," I laugh awkwardly. "You've been at my back and by my side and above me that I look up at you, no matter how things got bad between us at a time, you've been my first friend and only brother. You know well that you and Ahmed are the only people I count on. You know you're the only ones I'd trust with my family if anything ever happens to me."
"I think it's a bless to have you as a brother," he says almost inaudibly.
I smile. "Do you want to play soccer tonight or are you too old to run?"
He chuckles, "I'm taking Hend on a date tonight," he smiles childishly.
"Ohhh! Are you?" I laugh.
"I think that although you and Leen are younger than us, you've taught us a lot."
I smile as proudly as I do every time someone mentions Leen in front of me.
"See you on Saturday then," says Omar getting up. "We'll be having lunch together."
"Ah, mama told me." I say suddenly remembering that I forgot. Can a person have Alzheimer in their early thirties? Never mind.
He turns the doorknob and looks at me one last time before he leaves. "By the way, happy new year."
"Happy new year," I smile at him.