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And he told her, only her, everything in his heart.
“Ebtadait delwa’ti bas, ahheb omri.
Ebtadait delwa’ti akhaf, lal omr yegri.”
Only now I started to love my lifetime.
Only now I started to fear its hasty passage.
Every word, everything about him, overwhelmed her. It was impossible, but he was even more beautiful now, from the raven hair that now brushed his shoulders, to the face that had never looked more noble, more potent, every slash carved deeper, every emotion blazing brighter, to the body that she knew from extensive hands-on…investigation was awe incarnate. To make things worse and infinitely better, his outfit showcased his splendor to a level that would have left her speechless, breathless, even without the overkill of his choice of song and his spellbinding performance.
The costume echoed her dress in colors, from the cream-and-gold embroidered cape that accentuated his shoulders and made him look as if he’d fly up, up and away at any moment to the billowing-sleeved gold shirt that was gathered by a cream satin sash into formfitting coordinating pants, which gathered into light beige matte-leather boots.
She was looking at those when he stopped before her, unable to meet his eyes anymore. Her heart had been racing itself to a standstill, needed respite before she gazed up at him and into the full force of his love up close.
His hands reached for her, burned on her bare arms. Quivers became shudders. She raised her eyes, focused on the mike in front of lips that were still invoking the spell.
His hands caressed her face, cupped it in their warmth and tenderness, imbuing her with the purity of his emotions, the power of their union. And he asked her:
“Ya hayat galbi, ya aghla men hayati.
Laih ma abelneesh hawaak ya habibi badri?”
Life of my heart, more precious than my life.
Why didn’t your love find me earlier, my love?
Shudders became quakes that dismantled her and dislodged tears from her depths. She waited, heart flailing uncontrollably, for the last verse to complete the perfection.
“Enti omri, elli ebtada b’noorek sabaho.”
You are my lifetime, which only dawned with your light.
Music continued in the closing chords, but she no longer heard anything as she hurled herself into his arms.
She rained feverish kisses all over his face, shaking and quaking and sobbing. “Aram…Aram…too much…too much…everything you are, everything with you, from you…” She burrowed into his containment and wept until she felt she’d disintegrate.
He hugged her as if he’d assimilate her, bending to kiss her all over her face, her lips, raggedly reciting the verses, again and again.
She thought a storm raged in the background. It wasn’t until she expended her tears and sobs that she realized what it was. The thunder of applause and whistles and hoots among the lightning of camera flashes and the video floodlights.
Drained, recharged, she looked up at her indescribable soul mate, her smile blazing through the upheaval. “This should
get record hits on YouTube.”
It was amazing, watching his face switch from poignancy to elation to devilry.
Only she could do this to him. As he was the one who could make her truly live.
“Maybe this won’t.” He winked. “But this surely will.”
Before she could ask what “this” was, he turned and gestured, and for the second time tonight he managed to stun her out of her wits.
Openmouthed, she watched as hundreds of dancers in ethnic Zohaydan costumes, men in flowing black-and-white robes and women with waist-length hair and in vibrant, intricately embroidered floor-length dresses, poured onto the huge dance floor from all sides, including descending by invisible harnesses from the balconies. Drummers with all Zohaydan percussive instruments joined in as they formed facing queues and launched into infectiously energetic local dances.
He caught her around the waist, took her from gravity’s dominion into his. “Remember the dance we learned at that bar in Barbados?” She nodded hard enough to give herself a concussion. He swung her once in the air before tugging her behind him to the dance floor. “Then let’s dance, ya kanzi.”
Though the dance was designed to a totally different rhythm, somehow dancing to this melody worked and, spectacularly, turned out to be even more exhilarating.
