zara

Leaning against the pillar at the back of the ballroom, I fully immerse myself into my surroundings. The gentle instrumentals of Bollywood music. The chatter and laughter of those catching-up with one another. The patches of confetti and flower petals signifying the bride and grooms entrance. The children running in between the tables, exploring their new- found playground. The vibrant colours and sparkling ornaments rightly infusing the couples’ cultural heritage into this very British ballroom. Amongst all these meaningful mementoes of celebration of this togetherness, I couldn’t keep my admiring eyes off my dear friend, the bride. There could be no greater happiness for me. To see the radiating joy from her and her beloveds face, as they shared this precious moment together. Even though my heart wasn’t too trusting of a mans’ love, I couldn’t help but love weddings.

As, I bask in the sweetness of this occasion, unexpectedly I feel a soft nudge against my upper arm. Turning swiftly to my right I quickly recognize this intruder. No, it can’t be! What was he doing here? Whilst engaging in making sense of this shocking identification, he cheekily asks, “Would you like some pear drops?” My confrontation to this rude interrupter, a wide-mouthed, eye-brightening, full-beaming, smile. “As, you know I’m not one to refuse pear drops.” We both nostalgically laugh. “I can’t believe you still remember that.” With an affectionate tenderness he responds, “How could I forget?”

As, we caught up over our past years apart, I couldn’t help but assess his attractiveness. He still looked the same but also different. His playful expressions and charm remained unchanged. But, I had to admit these passing years favoured him. Some of his boyishness had faded and what was presenting; a refined handsomeness. His jawline, prominent. His beard perfectly highlighting the contours of his face. His distinctiveness further amplified by his impeccably fitted tailored suit and complimentary silver tie-pin and cufflinks. Throughout our conversation, I silently admired him.

“There isn’t much happening here, let’s go outside, get some fresh air.” He suggests, with a casual confidence. Like no time had passed, we walk side by side in perfect tandem. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I didn’t think I would ever see him again. To convince my unsettled mind, my eyes quickly shift to my left. Through the corners of my eyes I catch a brief glimpse of him. Right then, I’m taken back to our countless walks through the corridors of our old workplace. Where he would ritually show me all kinds of silly videos on his mobile, causing us both to burst into fits of laughter. Closing my eyes for a moment, I could collectively hear all them echoes of laughter. Only with him I truly laughed- full-heartedly, feeling it in every part of me. 

Upon taking our first few steps outside, I instantly felt the night. The darkness enveloped this venue seamlessly. It was utterly breath-taking. I felt as if I was standing in the grounds of a: grand, British, aristocrats’, manor. All the paths leading towards the manor were decorated with, small, delicate, lights. Perfectly draped across the numerous identical trees. All the stars from the sky were at a touching distance.

At first when we walked together there was a silence. But, it felt comfortable, familiar. The only sound was of the crunching of small stones and pebbles touching the soles of my bright, pink, wedged heels and his black Oxford shoes, with each step. Suddenly, the crunching softens under his feet. In search of understanding this oddity, I rapidly turn my face fully towards him. With a reflective smile and softened, brown, eyes he says, “you know, sometimes when you’re younger you can’t always recognize what’s really good and right for you.”

“Hmm,” I casually acknowledge, alongside a gentle head nod and the soft jingle of the dangling, gold and silver beads of my earrings. Then without a second thought I unapologetically say, “Yeah, that’s what happens with a lot of immature boys.” He slightly tilts his head back. His thick, textured quiff remaining perfectly in-place as he lightly laughs, “Yeah, you’re right, immaturity can make you lose out.” Then with a strong sense of assuredness within himself, he draws closer, leaving only a hand spans distance between us. His eyes meeting mine, taking a gentle tone, he says, “but as a man I won’t take that risk.”

For someone who always had something to say, I was rendered speechless. My only answer, the strength of my gaze; unrelentingly focused on his, as his was on mine. Even though those dark brown eyes were unchanged since I first came upon them seven years ago; inwardly they were different. In them few moments I saw: conviction, an inner strength, calmness, an endearing delicateness and most importantly, growth. He wasn’t the same person I knew all them years ago.

As, I was trying to figure him out, with an ownership and delicateness he grabs my hand. Pulling me forward, his eyes inquisitively scan over me and without any hesitation he asks, “What are you looking for?”  I immediately avoid the question, quickly breaking eye-contact. Looking over his broad shoulders I see a pond at a short distance. Pulling back at his hand, regaining control I lead him to the pond. The gentle breeze passes through my long, black, soft, curls as they lightly bounce in my stubborn determination. In stark opposition, my off-white shawl decides to obstruct me, unravelling and falling backwards. In one swift movement, he drapes my shawl over my shoulders and wraps his arm around me. Placing his hand with an easing, familiarity, upon the side of the waist of my hour-glass figure.

On arrival at the pond, spotting a bench, he gently glides me through the narrow, cobbled walkway. We both take a seat to a backdrop of lights, hanging like chains of diamonds. The never-ending tree branches shine brightly, lighting up the pond, making it glow. Looking forward, the stillness of the pond washes a calmness over me again. Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breathes, taking in this scenic night.

I sense his drawing closer. Leaning forward, he caressingly pushes my curls to the side, gently resting his chin between my shoulder and the edge of my neck; bringing his lips at touching distance of my ear. Against the coolness of the night breeze, his warm breath comforts me, as it passes over the side of my cheek. He then flirtatiously asks, “Can I have your number?”

Briskly turning towards him, I pull off my wrap commandingly, placing it behind me. Leaning in, my silver bangles lightly chime as, I push the curls out of my face. I wanted him to see me fully and clearly- nothing hidden. My red matte lips are close enough to tease him. With a strong assertiveness, I quickly move a touch back, whilst once again unwaveringly locking my eyes onto his. And I say with all the confidence I could muster, “It’s the same as its always been."

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