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Okay, not Aram’s. She downright adored those, and had, in fact, gotten addicted to them, living in constant anticipation of the next delightful surprise that invariably came.
But really, now wasn’t the time to spring something on her. She just wanted to get this over with. And get her hands back on him. Three days without him after that intensive…initiation had her in a constant state of arousal and frustration. By the end of this torture session, she’d probably attack and devour him the moment she had him alone….
“Elli shoftoh, gabl ma tshoofak ainayah.
Omr daye’e. Yehsebooh ezzai alaiah?”
Her heart stopped. Stumbled. Then stopped again.
Aram. His voice. Coming from…everywhere. And he’d just said…said…
All that I’ve seen, before my eyes saw you.
A lifetime wasted. How can it even be counted life?
Her heart began ricocheting inside her chest. Aram. Saying exactly what she felt. Every moment before she was with him, she no longer counted as life.
But those verses… They sounded familiar….
Suddenly a spotlight burst in the darkness. It took moments until her vision adjusted and she saw…saw…
Aram, rising as if from the ground at the far end of the gigantic ballroom, among swirling mist. In cream and gold all over, looking like a shining knight from a fantasy.
As he really was.
Music suddenly rose, played by an orchestra that rose on a huge platform behind him, wearing complementary colors.
She recognized the overture. Enta Omri, or You Are My Lifetime. One of the most passionate and profound love songs in the region. That was why the verses had struck a chord.
Not that their meaning had held any before. Before Aram, they’d just been another exercise in romantic hyperbole. Now that he was in her heart, every word took on a new meaning, each striking right to her foundations.
He now repeated the verses but not by speaking them.
Aram was singing. Singing to her.
Everything inside her expanded to absorb every nuance of this exquisite moment as it unfolded, to assimilate it into her being.
She already knew he sang well, though it was his voice itself that was unparalleled, not his singing ability. They’d sung together while cooking, driving, playing. He always sang snippets of songs that suited a situation. But nothing local.
While his choice and intention overwhelmed her with gratitude and happiness, the fact that he knew enough about local music to pick this song for those momentous moments stunned her all over again with yet another proof that Aram knew more about her homeland than she did. Not to mention loved it way more.
He was descending the steps from the platform where the orchestra remained. Then he was walking toward her across the huge dance floor on an endless gold carpet flanked by banks of cream rose petals. All the time he sang, his magnificent, soul-scorching voice filling the air, overflowing inside her.
“Ad aih men omri ablak rah, w’adda ya habibi.
Wala da’a el galb ablak farhah wahda.
Wala da’a fel donia ghair ta’am el gerah.”
How much of my lifetime before you passed and was lost.
With a heart tasting not a single joy but only wounds.
She shook, tears welling inside her.
Yes, yes. Yes. Exactly. Oh, Aram…
He kept coming nearer, his approach a hurricane that uprooted any lingering despondencies and disappointments, blowing them away, never to be seen again.
