Moving On, and In

When I opened the door to the new apartment in Philadelphia, I felt a sense of belonging. Ever since I had gotten married a month ago, things had felt out of place, distorted. Everything felt wrong. It didn't feel like home in Yusuf's familial house. It felt like I was staying in a picture perfect reflection of the past. So much had changed. Yet he and I were still tiptoeing around the images of who we used to be.

He was a good husband. Considerate, caring. But we lacked something that was essential to a marriage. A real marriage. We lacked the romantic story, the "falling in love", intimacy. And every time I looked at him, I felt as if everything was fake.

Did I want those things? Did I even have a choice but to want them? Was I supposed to want them?

"Hey." Yusuf's concerned voice broke me out of my reverie. His dark eyebrows were furrowed and he stood next to me by the entryway holding one of our bags. "You ok?"

The concern melted me. It had always melted me. I searched his eyes for something even I couldn't find. "I can't believe this is real."

The worried look in his face didn't change and then he sighed, placing the bag on the floor. He grabbed my shoulders and the contact enough shocked me. "This is real, Ahlam. And it's forever. I didn't marry you to divorce you. I didn't marry you to act like best friends who cohabit either. I know it happened suddenly and I know we both need time, but you need to know. You're my wife in every regard. Not an imposter, not some stand in. Ok?"

His words sent realization tunneling through me. He did expect us to behave like a real couple, because that's what we were. There was no coming out of this. "Ok." I breathed.

He smiled, his thumb rubbing a circle on my shoulder. "Good girl." He pressed a kiss to my forehead before I could even fathom it and I found myself leaning into his touch, breathing in his scent.

I grabbed a box and made my way into the pristine clean apartment. I felt lighter after our heart to heart in the entryway.

"I'm gonna grab the last of our stuff. Do you want something to eat?" He straightened and looked at me as I opened the box with a pair of scissors.

"Yeah, you can choose though. I always have trouble deciding." I grinned and he rolled his eyes.

"How can I ever forget." He deadpanned. I laughed at the insinuation behind his words. "I'll grab pizza, OK?"

I nodded, pulling my hair into a knot at the base of my neck. "I'm gonna try and get as much done as I can and then I'll go get groceries tomorrow."

"Sounds good. Lock up OK?"

I gave him a thumbs up, already engrossed in disinfecting the cabinets and placing the organizers in.

I had put in a considerable dent into the kitchen when he returned, the light drizzle having dampened his unruly curls.

"Wow. You got a lot done." He nodded appreciatively to the organized cabinets and drawers.

"Yep. Not all of us spend nearly two hours on one task."

He smiled mischievously. "I may have gotten distracted." He reached into a bag and grabbed what looked like a burner camera. "I felt like this could be a good housewarming activity."

My eyes lit up at the idea. It was the perfect day to take pictures. The glass wall had tiny droplets of water against it, the lighting was dim, and it was an ode to a new beginning.

"Here I was thinking you got your hands on poetry yet again."

His grin faltered. "How'd you know?"

My face contorted into a confused expression and I took a step forward to which he took one step back.

"Yusuf, what's in the bag."

"Nothing.

"Are you really going to lie to me?"

"Yes." He admitted without hesitation.

I lunged forward and grabbed the bag, swiveling around to run away but not before his arm snaked around my waist and pulled me to him. I gasped as his other hand snatched the bag from mine.

"Getting handsy aren't we?" I smirked as his grip loosened. I expected him to change the topic and get flustered like he would've once upon a time.

He only looked at me, his eyes darker somehow. "Better sooner than later."

I felt emboldened. "And why is that?" My heart rate had picked up. I didn't know what I wanted from him anymore.

The distance between us seemed to lessen. "I don't want you to have any doubts on whether this is real or not."

His dark brown eyes settled on me, flickering between my lips and eyes as if secretly asking for my permission. And I thought about it. I rationally thought about what this could mean and I chose to abandon all rationale thought in the end.

I took a step forward and stood on my toes, my hands going to either side of his face as I brought his lips down on mine. It wasn't more than a clumsy peck and I let him go rapidly, my cheeks heating up as I dared to look at the surprised look on his face.

"Tell me you don't regret this. Any of this." He whispered and he looked so vulnerable in that moment. So much younger and afraid.

"I don't. I don't regret any of this." The words left my mouth without hesitation.

He wasted little time in grabbing my waist and tugging me towards him again, leaning down and capturing my lips in a proper kiss. My hands found solace on his shoulders and all I could feel was his mouth moving against mine, hot and hurried yet tentative, as if I were going to run away. I was pressed up against him with virtually no space in between, I could feel my chest smothered against him, I could feel my legs turn to jelly. It was only when he bit my slip just slightly before kissing it that I gasped. He seemed to like that because he only kissed me harder.

My brain was turning into mush from his proximity, from the taste of his lips, from his scent that I caught myself longing for. It felt as if all the pent up frustration, the hesitant touches, the deep, longing looks had opened these floodgates.

He rested his forehead against mine as we both breathed heavily. "Any doubts you're mine?" His voice was so oddly possessive, that I shivered.

"None."

"Good."

He sat on the chair behind him and pulled me onto his lap, my hands resting on his chest as his lips found mine again.