The Beach

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Evie’s dreams of late have been calm and quiet. She dreamed of vistas that overlooked a rocky cliff, the sandstone and limestone eroded by massive sweeps of time and saltwater, and a blue, blue sea that stretched beyond the scope of her eyes. Always in these dreams a cool ocean breeze, salty but cleansing, would ruffle her hair and cause her eyes to blink in rapid succession. But the overall feeling was always of freedom, and her heart would soar until it reached the stars, from where she would look down upon a world that was not the earth, but her own life. And at the end of the dream, she’d float gently back to the world, back to daylight and consciousness, back to traffic jams in Kuala Lumpur and expensive roti canai and nasi lemak.

But she would always wake up to these dreams refreshed and smiling. Sometimes she would wake up and half imagine finding starlight in her hair… okay, it did not really go that far, but there was always a sense of joy, of gladness that she was waking up alive. Life was too beautiful for her at the moment, like it has never been for quite awhile. So even if waking up feeling fresh and happy and smiley would seem small in the scope of bigger things to come, she was going to enjoy it all the same.

That was how she woke up this morning. Happy. And she was even happier when Adam came to pick her up for lunch. He insisted on driving and paying the bills. She did not mind. Maybe those were very traditional things to do on behalf of a man, but she’s already dated cheapskates and someone who forced her to board a KTM train because his car was in the workshop and he had refused, REFUSED, that Evie drive him. Thank God that’s over, Evie thought as she sat in the passenger seat of the sleek black Honda NSX; it was perhaps an eight year old car, but it was well kept and clean. Adam drove very smoothly, his wrist flicking the transmission by second nature. Evie enjoyed watching him drive; she imagined she would probably enjoy watching him cook as well. His movements were precise, like a well-oiled machine, and yet to Evie they were also delicate and graceful; it was as if his whole body and mind was perfectly in-tune.

She has been seeing Adam for about a few months now; more often ever since that day at Raju’s with Rafar a few weeks back. She had gone home that night feeling a sense of occasion. Removing her wedding ring was like removing a huge boulder off her chest. At first it was odd, perhaps because she was already so used to having it on. When she looked at the strip of skin on her finger, which was paler, she would have a funny feeling inside her, and yet she has already disassociated the strip of skin with her ring. She would look at it like it was an old, healed scar, which, in a way, it probably was. That night she slept more soundly than she’s ever had for a long time; and she never did feel the ghosts that Rafar claimed he felt.

For the record Evie found Adam more and more irresistible the more time she spent with him. He was so much more different than Rafar; a bit old fashioned, perhaps, but only in his demeanor and in the way he treats her. But then again, is being a gentleman an old fashioned thing? Is opening the car door for her lame, or insisting that she have a seat before he did at a restaurant a bad thing? Evie thought not; maybe it was odd in today’s world because things are just so… different. Of course they would be; what is chivalry and being a gentleman today when men think of women as meaningless pursuits? When everyone seems so preoccupied with chasing a relationship with careers and money, of course someone who seemed genuinely nice and interested and polite and sweet to her would be an oddity.

Yes, sometimes she did wonder if Adam was faking it but she just could not see any reason for him to do so. He would listen to her talk with genuine interest, even when Evie herself thought she was being boring. And there was this delicious, delectable sweetness in his voice when he asked her questions she did not expect her to ask, or when he would simply tell her stories about his own life. Evie found his stories fascinating to listen to, perhaps because Adam had such a privileged childhood and yet was as humble as apple pie. That humility, coupled with his generally chirpy and infectiously happy attitude to almost everything, was a one-two, knockout, you’re out to her.

Of course he was also very good looking, but Evie did not hold it against him. Ah, clichés: Looks don’t matter, personality does. But with someone like Adam, she supposed she did not mind the best of both worlds.

As he drove beside her, he was quiet, only turning to her to smile and, of course, wink, from time to time. He mostly winked just to annoy her. Evie looked outside her window as the scenery passed by in a blur. Earlier this morning Adam had asked her if she would like a spur-of-the-moment trip down to the beach at Port Dickson. She had said yes immediately. She had not been to a beach in years. In fact the last time she went to a beach was maybe just after she got married to Rafar. Evie loved the beach, and when she thought of her dreams of late, she felt even happier. She had packed spare clothes and some snacks in her big handbag. Adam sped down the highway, totally in control as he weaved between slower cars. They talked about general stuff in the car. They saved their nicer conversations when his hands were freer.

Evie once asked Adam his ‘history’ of women. Adam had told her he had had a fiancé a few years before; around the time Evie and Rafar had divorced, in fact. Evie had asked what happened, and Adam had just pointed upwards and said ‘Cancer’. Evie had felt bad about it, but Adam had smiled and shrugged it off. “Sure, it was sad. I didn’t get to see her go, you know. But I loved her back then and she had loved me, and I believe she would have wanted me to be happy. So here I am. Happy.”

Evie had not said it out loud, but the smile Adam had given her made her own heart blossom. On her part, she never brought up the topic of past flames herself. She explained she was a divorcee on their third date. He had asked her a few questions, and his eyes had kept falling to the ring on her hand. She had answered patiently and he was satisfied. Much to her relief, there was no awkwardness or a sense of ‘missing’ afterwards. As a matter of fact they got along more and more. Evie fondly remembered how hard he tried to please her and amuse her on their first few dates, when all she wanted and was satisfied for was him spending those moments with her. Evie remembered she felt like a giddy schoolgirl, waiting for his telephone calls and IMs and e-mails.

Adam, I like you, Evie thought as they arrived in Port Dickson. They found a nice stretch of beach that was not too crowded and got out of their cars. Evie was wearing a plain dark red tank top with a sarong and sandals, and she had brought a wide brimmed hat. The day was warm, and being so close to a beach, she welcomed the ocean breeze. She already felt excited. Adam was in a t-shirt and shorts, and, much to her amusement, a pair of white Crocs. She loved Crocs! And they looked sort of adorable on Adam.

“Walk on the beach?” Adam said, as he put on a pair of Ray-ban Aviators.

“Of course!” Evie said. She too put on her big sunglasses. Adam extended a hand outwards. After you, the gesture said. Evie smiled and took the offer. They walked towards the beach, side by side, close together but not touching. Often the tips of their fingers would brush, but both of them pretended not to notice, and they always looked away when that happened. They walked down to the beach, and Evie stumbled on her first step when the sand shifted beneath her foot; she would have fallen rolling down if Adam had not caught her by the waist.

“Whoa! I know you’re eager but watch your step!” Adam grinned. He had an arm around her waist, supporting her. Evie looked at him and for one concrete moment it seemed an invisible force, a bolt of electricity, passed between their eyes. Then Evie steadied herself and that feeling was gone. She felt mildly disappointed. She laughed.

“Actually, I was testing the ground so you would not have made the mistake. I look out for you see?” she said with a smug look in her face. Adam raised an eyebrow.

‘Riiiighht, of course you are.”

Evie stuck out her tongue. “Thanks anyway. You may walk safely now.”

They walked to the edge of the water. Evie’s face brightened visibly as she let her eyes admire the view. She was really glad Port Dickson has been cleaned up after that state of rut in the 1990s. It looked like a proper beach now, if not quite Pulau Redang or Hawaii. She was glad enough. She dug her feet in the warm sand. It was like being in a spa. She squatted down and let the waves, gentle at the edge, splash at her hands. A little crab popped out of a waterlogged hole and hurriedly scuttled across her hands, surprised. Evie laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Adam said beside her. He too, had squatted down and was tracing his fingers in the wet sand.

“Nothing, it’s just… I feel great. I feel great.” Evie looked at him and flashed her best smile. She did indeed feel great. It was late afternoon, a beautiful day, and a perfect day to be out at a beach. The sky was blue and the sun thankfully bright but not blazing; the ocean breeze caressed her body. It was a weekend, but the part of the beach they were at was not crowded at all. Evie felt a bit of regret she did not bring swimming clothes. She would have loved to be in the water. As soon as she thought that she was splashed with salty water as Adam suddenly rushed into the sea. He had taken off his shirt and left his Crocs beside her. Evie was surprised, and then saw Adam already waist deep in the water. She stood up and put her hands on her hips.

“No fair!”

Adam laughed as he let his body fall into the sea. “On the beach, all is equal. If you want to stay dry, stay dry. But why would you want to if you’re at a beach?”

Evie stood at the water’s edge for a moment. Then she took off her hat and took Adam’s t-shirt and sandals and placed them, along with her bag, higher up the beach, near a stump of driftwood. She skipped to the water’s edge; took a deep breath. Well, at least I have spare clothes!

She ran into the water and as soon as it was deep enough she dived; she swam a few yards and popped out, throwing her head back. She wiped her face and saw Adam staring at her, slack-jawed.

“What?” she said.

“Wow,” Adam said, shaking his head. “That was hot.”

Evie laughed and splashed water on him. He splashed her back, and they played around like kids in the warm, shallow sea. The sounds of their laughter echoed through the air, and Evie felt as if she was on top of the world, all her worries gone and dissolved in the salty water. She felt exhilarated, excited. She felt alive, full of joy and full of tomorrow. Adam decided to play games, and they were trying to one-up one another at silly contests like who could hold their breath longer (Adam – 44 seconds, Evie – 1 minute 8 seconds) or who could swim the furthest out (Adam won; Evie was afraid to swim in deeper water). After having their fun, they swam the short distance back to shore and sat at the water’s edge, both of them smiling and laughing. The breeze made her feel cool all over.

“That was fun,” Adam said. Evie smiled, one that reached all the way to her eyes. Adam looked at her thoughtfully. Their eyes locked again, and again something electric passed through them. More words, but unspoken. Adam opened his mouth to say something, but shut it just as quickly. Then he looked away, out into the horizon. Evie was suddenly aware of how skimpy she looked, in a wet tank top and a sarong that clung to her legs. She turned to Adam to say that she wanted to get her dry clothes, but Adam was already up.

“Stay, I have towels in the car. I’ll get them,” he said. Evie said she’d wait near where she put their stuff. She sat there, sand clinging to her feet. She took out a small compact and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was wet but she thought she had never looked happier. Why, even the dark circles under her eyes were a bit faded now. Her cheeks were full of vitality and color. Or maybe that’s just me, she thought.

She thought about those brief but electric moments every time she locked eyes with Adam. Something was definitely there. Those words unspoken between them were probably important words, words they both needed to hear and speak to one another. Without realizing it she had begun to fiddle with her ring finger, rubbing the spot where a band of precious metal and stone had once sat proudly.

Has he noticed I have it off? She wondered. Yes, Evie liked Adam… only now she was considering the possibility that she might actually be harboring actual feelings for him. They’ve spent a lot of time these past few months and weeks. They never ran out of things to talk about, and they both listen to each other with true interest. On his part, Adam did not seem like he was just chasing her tail. Especially given how his eyes always seemed to look deeply in her heart.

Evie knew he liked her. Evie was even confident that he, too, had real feelings for her. After all, he was the one who made the first move, right? This was different. This is different. He’s not like the others before, Evie thought. He’s not constantly staring at my buttocks or my neckline, nor is he always trying to figure out ways to physically touch me. Adam is just… different. Sweet. Funny. Spontaneous! That unexpected swim was a perfect example. She thought of all the sweet things he’s said and done. The flowers he gave. The dinners. The way he always pulls out her chair for her, and holds open doors. How he is always polite and listening. How he makes her laugh at his jokes. He pushed all the right buttons. But she knew he was holding something back, and she knew he was unsure to proceed because she had once been married, then divorced, and was still wearing her ring.

But not anymore. Evie thought deep. Suddenly she felt excited. Her heart was in revolution. She thought confidently that Adam and her have passed the ‘kenal-kenal’ stage. Furthermore, she misses him when they haven’t seen each other in awhile. She misses talking to him and seeing him whenever they’re both too busy. How long has it been since she last felt that way? Not since Rafar...or that TUDM pilot. She wanted to feel that sense of longing again. She’s been alone, though not always lonely, for long enough. In Adam she felt she’s found a keeper. Men like that don’t come along every often. What did her receptionist, Alya, tell her? ‘All the good men are married and/or gay’. He’s not gay, Evie thought bemusedly, and he’s not married. I’d be foolish to let this one be just another ‘date’.

I want this to happen, her heart said. I deserve this. Suddenly Evie felt nineteen years old again. At least at heart. She felt excitable. She turned her head around and saw Adam walking towards her with a towel wrapped around his shoulders, and another one in his hands. He looked incredibly sexy without his shirt. Evie blushed, feeling slightly stupid and naughty at the same time. Well she was a regular woman after all.

“Here you go Evie,” Adam said as he handed her the towel and sat down beside her. He tousled his hair with the towel. “You have dry clothes? I have some spare in the car.”

“Thank you,” Evie said and wrapped the towel around her shoulders. “But I have spare clothes of my own. I don’t want to wear your sweaty man clothes!”

“Excuse me, they aren’t sweaty. And I’d bet you’d look adorable in man clothes.”

Evie smiled and she blushed for no reason. She felt terribly girly. “Well, I would look nice in anything, Adam Amirulkhair.”

“Wow, you said my full name. Are you angry? Usually full name usage is reserved for moments of anger.”

“No, haha.” Evie looked at him again. “Come on, let’s go for that beach walk we initially planned to do, before you so suddenly decided to go all aquatic on me.” She stood up and brushed the sand off her butt. Adam got up after her. He put his t-shirt back on and slung the towel over one shoulder.

“Shall we?” he said, smiling, again extending an arm out. Ladies first. Evie bowed her head down slightly, and she felt a warm glow reach her cheeks. He followed slightly behind her as they made their way back to the shoreline and walked parallel to the sea. They walked slowly, quietly, neither of them saying much. They fell into a comfortable silence besides each other. Again, often their fingers brushed against each other. The last time she had touched his hand on purpose was the day they first met; and it was a handshake, hardly romantic. They continued walking, both content with the silence. Evie stole glances at Adam. Perhaps it was because, finally after years, she now had her guard down, her heart open, and she felt totally smitten looking at him beside her.

Their hands brushed again. And again. Her left hand against his right. The hand she once wore her ring on. This time she brushed her hand on purpose, to see if he’d notice there was no ring there. But still Adam did not seem to take note. He just walked, with a curious smile on his lips.

“What?” Evie said. Adam shook his head and turned to her.

“Nothing.”

He ran a hand through his damp hair. They continued walking in silence. The sun had already moved through the sky, settling lower. It cast a beautiful glow, changing the blues into violets, pinks and a deep, warm orange. The sea turned golden and seemed to dance with every wave. They walked as the sun burned deeper orange all the way out at the horizon; finally Adam stopped, still quiet, and turned back the way they came from.

Evie slowed down a few steps behind him. She was slightly disappointed. Maybe she had been expecting too much. She sighed, content for the day but dissatisfied. After how the day had gone she was expecting something special.

Well you expect too much Evie, she thought. What happened to going slow? She shook her head slowly, and pulled the towel around her shoulders tighter. Evie quickened her footsteps and walked alongside Adam again. He looked at her, his eyes deep and thoughtful. Evie smiled at him. On the beach, the children playing in the sea and sand were getting changed back. Picnic baskets and mats were closed and rolled. The sun was setting.

Evie paused, and walked towards the water. She stopped short of the waves, and looked at the sunset, squinting her eyes a little. A sudden gust of breeze blew her hair, and it flew behind her. The towel too, was blown off. Evie stood still, looking at the sun setting behind the horizon. And then…

And then the gentle touch of fingers. Those fingers wrapped around hers. She clasped the hand, feeling a sudden release of emotion in her heart. The hand was soft, the skin smooth and warm. Evie glanced at her hand, and looked up to see Adam beside her. He, too, was looking at their hands, linked together for the first time, her small hands in his, and they fit like a glove. In the glow of the setting sun Evie thought Adam looked perfect, the balance of light and shadows highlighting every feature and hiding every flaw he had, if any. And if she could have read his mind, she would have seen that at that very moment Adam thought she is the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

They turned their gazes away from each other, but still held hands.

Evie shifted closer to Adam, and leaned her head on his shoulder; both of them watching the sun disappear. Adam slipped an arm across her waist, and pulled her closer. She let him. She sighed, contently. Adam started to say something but Evie shh-ed him.

No words were needed. It was perfect as it is.

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The Memory of A Dream

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He woke up in the middle of the night, his body covered in sweat. Sitting up on his bed, he scanned his eyes around the darkened room. Rafar sighed. He got up and fixed himself a coffee, dressed in only his boxer shorts. It has been awfully hot in Kuala Lumpur recently, and he did not have air conditioning. Hard to believe, maybe, but he was one of those rare kinds who enjoyed the comforting whir of a ceiling fan, and the captivating, hypnotic spinning of blades.

He walked to his balcony, a stumbling, almost drunken gait, and opened the sliding doors. A breeze, warm yet somehow refreshing, blew into the living room, ruffling his messed up hair. Rafar took a long swig of the hot and bitter coffee. He made it strong, and it burned his throat going in. He did not seem to notice however. He gazed into the horizon.

His neighbourhood had gone quiet a few hours earlier. All he could see in the streets below were occasional cars, mostly taxis, and some night owls walking the street. There was a couple making out behind a tree., making grunting noises. The sounds did not bother Rafar as much, however. To him, it was just another sound; like the creak his bed made, or the singing of crickets and the occasional crash of a bat with poor judgment into a window. It simply did not register. His mind was elsewhere.

On the balcony was a reclined sofa, the kind psychiatrists used. The leather upholstery was already faded and stretched, with a few rips and tears. This sofa was his chill-out-chair, so to speak. Often he would spend his quieter evenings on it, listening to his MP3 player or watching television from the balcony. He did not read many books (though by the battered and dog eared copies of various Fantasy novels on the bookshelf, you could say he was more of a specialist reader) but when he did, he read it on the reclined sofa. The sofa was more often used at times like this: when he could not sleep and just needed some quiet, which a bed or a bedroom somehow did not provide for him. He supposed it was also because of sentimental value; he had spent many hours on that sofa with Evie, her head on his chest, and their fingers would twirl and dance together as they talked. That was years ago of course.

He sat on the sofa, his back straight. He drank his coffee and finished it despite the fact it was still quite hot. For a moment he just sat quietly, hands clasped in front of his face, and stared into empty space, his eyes glassy and devoid of any real emotion. Then his eyes seemed to mist over, as if a sudden cloud of memory and thought was stirred in the deep pools of his thought, and he exhaled. It was a warm night, and the atmosphere seemed lazy and thick, the atmosphere of sleep and slumber. Which it was; dawn was still a few hours away. But Rafar no longer felt sleepy, thanks to the coffee. He just felt…

Felt what, exactly? He did not know. It has been days since he saw Evie. Weeks since he saw Farihin. And he has been haunted by a recurring dream that he has no idea to classify if it was bad or good. Yet he has dreamed of it too often lately, and he always wakes up at a precise moment. Rafar sighed.

Do dreams really tell you something, or are they just buried memories mashed up? But how could I dream of something that happened years ago and remember every vivid detail? Why do I keep dreaming this lately? I don’t know, he thought. He dreamed of the day he got married to Evie Nadia.

..........

.......S

....Sl

..Slo

Slow

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"Slowly now, you don't want to hurt her finger," said Rafar's mother as he took Evie's hand to put on her wedding ring.

Her hand was slightly trembling as he slipped the finger on. Rafar saw that Evie was looking at the act with eyes that were eager yet also unbelieving. Then the ring was on and they looked at each other and smiled. Evie’s eyes shone. She was not wearing glasses that day; instead she wore temporary contact lenses instead. Then she bent over and salam-ed and kissed his hand, and he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. From the corners of his eyes he could see the smiling faces of friends and family around them, some of them in tears of joy. Most of the older women had their hands clasped as if accepting a victory. The men were busy nodding their approval with wide grins on their faces, even if their arms were crossed like a steadfast sentry. Camera flashes popped everywhere.

The Nikah and wedding, held by Evie’s side of the family first, was being held at a place called Kampung Pengantin, which was formerly an old bungalow lot, now converted into a place that catered almost exclusively to weddings. They provided changing rooms and an open hall with a stage, and provided the catering as well. It was situated just off Jalan Ampang.

The Nikah ceremony that had went on about half an hour earlier was done, smoothly. Mr. Hakimi himself was the one who officiated it, and he had had tears in his eyes as he said the words that effectively let go of his one and only child, his beautiful daughter, to the man she loved. Evie had been sat behind Rafar, and she was fighting back tears herself. Her mother, and his mother, sat by her side, giving her support. Then he had put on the ring, and they salam-ed their parents and their closest relatives. It was still before noon, and now the guests to the Nikah were invited for a brunch at the hall nearby. Evie and Rafar lingered in the room for a moment as a photographer (Rafar’s friend) took pictures of them being husband and wife for the first time. They wore white for the Nikah ceremony, and Rafar thought Evie looked so beautiful, her face blossoming with life and happiness, he almost wept with joy. He felt the same way, on his part.

The two of them lingered for a moment as the guests begin eating. They talked to a few friends and relatives. Finally Rafar’s older brother left the Nikah room, leaving the two of them alone for a moment. He wrapped his hand around Evie’s, and it folded around hers like a glove. She looked up at him.

“Husband,” she said, the smile on her lips reaching her eyes, and she crinkled her nose in amusement. Rafar always thought she had the cutest nose, which reminded her of ‘Sam’ from the old TV show ‘Bewitched’. Rafar pulled her closer to him.

“Wife,” he said. “I can’t believe we’re married. It’s… it’s unreal.”

“Are you having second thoughts? Because if you are,” Evie said as she craned her neck to look at a clock on the wall. “You’re going to make me a widow after just 32 minutes of getting married.”

“I'm not going to make you a widow. Besides, to make you a widow, wouldn’t I have to be dead instead of divorcing you?”

Evie squinted her eyes as him. “Oh my God what are we talking about? We’re married! Let’s go eat dear, I'm starving.” They walked hand in hand to the buffet, and Rafar felt an unbelievable and unexpected sense of pleasure and pride as admiring eyes followed them wherever they went. They went to sit at the table with their parents and they talked long and good, all of them enjoying the moment. The bersanding ceremony was schedule at evening.

Afterwards their parents and families went back first. Rafar and Evie stayed behind at Kampung Pengantin as they needed time to get ready. The color theme of the wedding was all white as well; this was Evie’s choice. Initially they dressed in separate rooms, but then were brought into one room for the make up and other cosmetic enhancements. Rafar felt a bit uncomfortable, mostly because the person doing his make up was a gay fruit called ‘Sofia’ but whose real name was Sufian. Evie giggled looking at Rafar, who was always awkward around men with that extra ‘flamboyance’. But as he had foundation and mascara (mascara!!) applied to him he stole glances at his bride. While he thought Evie looked good enough as she is, he had to admit the lady doing Evie’s make up knew her job; he watched slowly as Evie was transformed from a pretty girl into a beautiful, almost Elven-like being. For a moment he was reminded of the mythical princesses of the countless fantasy books he’s read, all of them impossibly gorgeous. And now here was one sitting but a few feet away from him.

He held out his hand, she took it.

Soon afterwards Evie was fully dressed and ready. She stood in front of a mirror, and twirled around to look at herself. Rafar, all dressed up in a suave white songket number, admired his wife. Her wedding dress was a white kebaya, with sheer sleeves and a slim, fitting blouse. The sarong she wore fit her shape and clung to her, accentuating her long legs. A shining tiara rested on her hair.

“How do I look?” Evie asked him. Her eyes had a trace amount of insecurity in them. Rafar looked at her top to bottom, his hand on the fake keris in his sampin. His eyes finally rested on the gold necklace on Evie’s neck; the pendant hung just above her bosom, a deep red crystal embedded within, the red like blood upon the snow of her skin.

“You look amazing,” Rafar said. Evie smiled. The make up artists took pictures of them both, and they laughed and joked for a moment.

Then they were ready; it was after Maghrib now and the guests were all there, already enjoying the buffet and the music. Evie and Rafar had been escorted outside for their entrance, and were now waiting for the kompang to begin. They stood side by side. Rafar’s brother, Razif, was his pengapit, whilst Evie’s was Juliza. Their parade was joined by family members from both sides, uncles and aunts and cousins, some wielding cameras and some content with mobile phones. Again Rafar and Evie linked hands. Then the kompang boys started their beat. It was time to move.

“Ready sayang?” Rafar said.

Evie looked at him and raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Are you?”

They were given a cue and started their ‘march’. They walked slowly, in rhythm with the music. Three flower girls, little cousins of both of them, sprinkled rose petals at their feet. They passed by a covered passageway, the garden rack above them creeping with orchids that had fat white and purple flowers. The night was cool and the atmosphere exciting. Again the flashes from a thousand cameras burst in the air. All the guests had momentarily stopped what they were doing and were looking at the bride and groom make their way to the pelamin for the bersanding ceremony.

“I feel like I have a thousand eyes on me,” Evie said.

“That’s because you do have a thousand eyes on you dear. We are the King and Queen of The Day you know. Your subjects are watching you.”

Finally they reached the pelamin and took their seats. Rafar felt a little awkward being the center of attention. But hey, it was his wedding after all. The ceremony soon commenced; the folk who did the merenjis for them were their parents, their grandparents and the elder uncles and aunts as well as their guest of honor, a friend of Evie’s father. Afterwards Rafar and Evie were led to their dining table for the customary Makan Beradab. Evie’s appetite was still the same: she ate with as much relish at the bride and groom’s table as she would have at any other table. The difference was this time she kept her head bowed a little. They posed for a photograph of the two spooning each other food. In fact they posed for tons of photographs. Rafar, of course, had done weddings many times before behind a lens. This was the first (and at the time, only) wedding where he was not the photographer for a change.

After dinner they cut the wedding cake, a lovely three tier confection with luscious icing and creamy, edible decorations. After that, Rafar and Evie stood on stage as Rafar sang Elton John’s ‘Can You Feel The Love Tonight’ to her, which was her favorite love song. Evie visibly cried at the end of her number, and her mascara stained her eyes. Juliza had to hand her tissues to wipe it away, much to the amusement of the guests. They mingled with their friends and family, accepting hugs and hand shakes and pats on the back and countless wishes of a happy life until they have grandchildren and an endless stream of congratulations. By the end of the night Rafar began to feel a bit overwhelmed, and from the look on Evie’s face, he knew that she, too, was tired. It had been a long, but happy day.

Later that night after the ceremony they had gone back to Evie’s house, where her mother and aunt had so tastefully decorated their room, the first room they’d spend the night together in. They changed into more comfortable clothes; Rafar changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and Evie put on a shirt but kept her sarong. Curiously they changed separately, both of them unsure and still shy. Her extended family was at the house, having late night coffee and snacks. It was gift opening time. They had received loads of gifts and fat white envelopes no doubt stuffed with money. Rafar and Evie sat in the center of the living room as her – no, our, Rafar reminded himself – family members gathered around them, again with cameras. Rafar wondered if the batteries would run out. They unwrapped the presents, which ranged from the usual IKEA lamps, chinaware and crockery to some stranger gifts, such as a hydroponic vegetable garden set. They had had a good laugh at that one, even more so because it was from an anonymous person.

Soon it got late and everyone decided to retire. Rafar began to feel a little nervous as he and Evie went to their room. He closed the door and locked it behind them. Dim, warm bedside lamps lit the room. The bed had been decorated for their wedding, and it had some sort of lace curtain (Rafar did not know what to call it; surely you don’t call it a mosquito net) above it. The sheets were cream colored and luxurious, a gift from a wealthy spinster aunt. Rafar stood by the door, unsure for a moment. Evie sat on the bed quietly.

They were both quiet, but it was not an awkward silence. Rather, it was anticipatory, full of hope and desire. There was a sweet tension in the air. Rafar sat beside Evie on the bed and took her hand in his. Her hands were slightly trembling and he realized that his, too, were shaking. Evie turned to face him and their faces slowly drew closer until their lips met. At first the touch was light, the kiss tender and soft, but then it turned into something deeper as he wrapped his arms around Evie. Their clothes dropped to the floor one by one, and together they climbed in between the sheets, hand in hand, their lips hardly parting. As they joined Rafar felt him self melting into a world so dreamy and beautiful, he hardly believed he was in it. Her perfume filled the air. The feel of her skin, silky smooth and soft, was a sensation that would stick with him for days on end. As he lay on top of Evie, as gentle as he could, he looked at her face., and he could never again recall just how how much in love with her he was. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was deep; she looked angelic. Rafar kissed her and their hands clasped together and Rafar looked at her hand and saw the wedding ring there, and the ring seemed to be a symbolize everything to him; a love so true, so strong, a love that would never

never.

neve..

nev...

ne....

n......

...........

-------------------------

Rafar snapped out of his thoughts. He cast an eye to the clock in his living room and saw he had been idle for maybe an hour or so. It was still dark, still quiet. He thought of the dream again, if he could even call it a dream. Was it not more like a memory? A kernel of memory carved forever in his mind?

It always ended there; the moment he looked at the ring on Evie’s hand, and when he woke up, the dream, or rather the dream of a memory of a dream, would fade and dissolve into his consciousness, just like a kitchen towel absorbs a spill on a table. And yet the dream lingered in his mind, and he kept trying to make something of it, to extract some deeper meaning, but he just did not know what, and that frustrated him.

He lay down on his psychiatrists’ chair in the balcony, his eyes glazed and staring into thin air. He sighed. Some part of his heart accepted that perhaps this was his punishment for leaving Evie Nadia; to forever relive a beautiful moment in time, a moment unlikely to ever happen again, until Fate deems he has paid for his sin.

-----

Muhammad Rafar II

----

Rafar tossed his keys on the coffee table and stripped his socks off. He went to his fridge and opened a can of Coke, and downed three big gulps, grimacing at the fizzy sensation that hurt his throat. Carrying the can, he went and slumped himself on the sofa, turned on the television and surfed channels, eventually settling on Animal Planet. But he did not actually watch it; rather he threw his head backwards and stared at the ceiling.

He slumped further into the sofa, almost sinking. He fished out his mobile phone out of his pocket and checked to see: nothing. No messages no missed calls. For the first time since a few years, Rafar felt like crap. Today’s lunch with Evie had turned out far worse than he had expected. And Evie’s words kept ringing in his ears. It stung all the more because he knew that she was right.

Where was he when she needed him all those years ago? Where did he really go four years ago when he left her with so little reason other than ‘irreconcilable differences’? He had no answers to that. He was selfish back then. Evie was right. And he was selfish today as well, because he did think that Evie would say ‘yes’ when he had told her he wanted her back. All he ever thought about was his own feelings, his own hopes and wants.

It was perplexing, to say the least, because he remembered being head over heels in love with Evie Nadia during college. How he had made a fool out of himself one particular day, confessing his love and ‘apologizing’ over something that was nothing more than a dream. And yet… and yet the dream did eventually come true, against his expectations. And what did he do?

He threw it all away.

Rafar chugged back the can of Coke. He always thought that if he were not a Muslim, it would almost certainly be a can of beer instead. But there was something similar about a Coke and a beer; he supposed it was the sense of satisfaction one got when one downs it. It was a funny thought, and not an entirely nice one as well. He crushed the can, and regretted it as a few drops of Coke spilled on his shirt. He cursed, and went to the kitchen to throw the can away. While washing his hands at the sink (and dabbing cold water on the Coke stain), Rafar looked out the window of his apartment, just outside Kuala Lumpur. He had a nice view of the skyline from his balcony.

It was late afternoon now, the air thick and heavy with humidity. He could already hear the laughter and shouts of eager children at the nearby playground. He decided to take a shower, and maybe a nap afterwards. The lunch at Raju’s was getting to his head; the spices were making him drowsy.

Beneath the cold running water he let his thoughts run free. He was disappointed over the conversation he had had with Evie over lunch, though he felt he deserved that sort of reaction. When he had arrived he saw Evie interacting with a toddler; she was dressed in all white and looked absolutely gorgeous. Gone was the skinny, bespectacled and ‘not quite there’ woman he had dated and married. In her place was a woman, graceful, benign and… majestic? Yes, he thought. Majestic.

For the past four years since they separated, he had never made an attempt to contact her. But damn it if he did not think of her often. He did. Often on those quite nights when he was still alone, he thought of Evie, and he thought if she was all right, or was she sulking and crying over their loss?

But what had prevented him from just saying hello, or attempting to at least mend a broken not if not totally fix it? He did not know. Male ego perhaps, or this secret, unconscious desire to prove to Evie that yes, divorcing her was a right move for him.

In truth, in the first year of their separation, he had missed her. But he was too much of a fool to admit so. Okay. Fine, it was ego. He sighed as he washed his face with Biore For Men. It was ego that prevented him from contacting Evie. What was his problem? Was he so desperate to prove that yes, he did need to be alone? If so, then he was no different from the legions of males who had egos bigger than their heads. After all, it was not that hard to say hi or hello, wasn’t it? But then again, that would have been a bad thing for her. It would have been emotionally hard for Evie.

He had loved Evie like he had loved no other before her. When she too, had confessed that she loved him back in the rain many years ago, he felt that the world was his for the taking, and nothing could have stood in their way. Love, it seemed, conquered all. So two years into their subsequent marriage, he suddenly found himself literally freaking out when he realized it was not what he wanted. It happened almost overnight: one day he woke up, looked at Evie's sultry form beside him and thought: I should not be here.

He had then spent days, pondering it over in his head and heart. The love was still there, he could not deny, but the passion and the heart for it was suddenly gone. It was as if his heart was a well that had dried out in the middle of the night, leaving nothing but an empty pail.

Rafar thought there was something missing. After two years of marriage, he suddenly felt he was not where he was supposed to be. He suddenly felt cowardly and incapable of giving Evie that happiness. Maybe it’s just a phase, he had thought initially. But that feeling of not belonging grew stronger until he could no longer deny it. Those days, he felt aloof and distant, like was seeing his very own life through another pair of eyes. It was like he was sitting at a computer, jotting down another person’s life on Microsoft Word, writing his own fiction. And more and more it just felt like he was not there; like he was disembodied.

The fact that Evie seemed oblivious to his growing disenchantment further added to his sense of ‘not there’. But what was it really? The closest answer he considered was that he had reached the top without challenge. That he had gotten everything he ever wanted without gratification. He felt he did not earn that happiness; rather it had been given to him on a silver platter.

Maybe it was a stupid thing to think, he thought as the cold water ran through his hair and trickled down his well-kept body. But that was the reality of his emotions at the time. Another man would have given anything and everything to have his life back then: a steady, well paying job; a nice house, a beautiful wife he bedded almost every night. But that was not enough, somehow, for him. He did not see his blood, sweat and tears go into that. He wanted more. He needed more. The growing dissatisfaction finally got hold of him. He told Evie his feelings, much to her dismay and hurt. Sometimes he wished it was another woman, an affair. That, at least, would have been easier to explain. But all he managed to tell Evie was that ‘there was something missing’.

Yes, they had talked about it. She had cried over it; sobbing until her eyes were red and her throat went dry. In the end she had said she would let him go, if that was what he wanted. He had told her it was, and so she did. She had let him go. Evie was the one who was sacrificed for his own sake. On the day they officially separated, they did not even speak to say goodbye to each other. He knew Evie did not have the heart to do so; but he just did not want to. Rafar then just faded; one day he was there… the next, he was gone.

Now, in retrospect, Rafar realized that was the most selfish act he had ever done.

But at the time he had not let that bring him down. Despite the fact that he did miss his ex-wife, he buried it in the furthest corner of his mind with work. He drowned himself in a sea of jobs and projects. He got to know the right people and mingled with the right crowds. Pretty soon he made a name for himself in the photography arena, and combined with his talented skills, it was not long before he was renowned amongst the A list of Kuala Lumpur.

One year after the divorce, Rafar got into his stride. He no longer thought as much about the divorce, or about Evie. His career was building up greatly, and he was in the right crowds. Women? There were plenty, and he was not sorry to say he dated during that time period, though never seriously and always for fun. Three years of being a single man gave him plenty of time to have fun, if he could call it that. Like Evie, there was always an element missing from those flings. Unlike Evie, Rafar actually could not care less. He was content.

But some three years ago, he bumped into Evie at Pavilion KL and suddenly had felt this huge urge to ask her out, but he did not muster enough courage at the time to do so. That meeting, for a few short minutes, had suddenly, inexplicably conjured a swirling cloud of emotions inside him. But it had only lasted that few short minutes, and soon enough, he resigned to the fact he probably was not going to see her again. So he went on with his job, and met a few girls here and there. Once an upcoming young starlet had fondled his crotch during a dinner, obviously intoxicated.

Rafar was into photography because he loved it, however, and not because he got to work with celebrities and have his fifteen minutes of fame. He was not looking for a relationship at all when he met Farihin at KL Fashion Week. But they had hit if off immediately. Only recently did he admit to himself he was attracted to Farihin because she was almost exactly like Evie was when he had fallen in love with her. They had the same bright, electric energy coming off in waves from their smiles, their laughter, and the way their eyes seemed to shine when they got excited. He enjoyed Farihin’s company; she was young and he supposed being with him would also give her a boost in her career. After all he knew the right people to help her on her way.

Farihin, on her part, seemed to be infatuated with him. He did not know if she actually loved him (though breaking up with her proved she did) at the time, but he knew that her company was the kind he had secretly missed since his separation from Evie Nadia. Farihin even looked somewhat similar, but maybe this was just a way of him justifying himself.

The truth was, in a year long relationship with Farihin, he did not love her. Yes, he was attracted, deeply, but he did not feel the same emotions in his heart the way he had felt for Evie Nadia years ago. Farihin did not give him a rush of blood to his head when she told him “I love you Rafar” like Evie did. Farihin kissed him once; it was in his car when he was dropping her off at home. She had kissed him on the lips, suddenly, and though the average man would have loved for that to happen, the only thought that had run through Rafar’s head at the time was that they shouldn’t be kissing; she was not his wife, and most of all, at that exact moment, he had thought how sweeter and warmer Evie’s lips had felt on his. It was a strange and foreign experience to him.

Rafar turned off the tap, suddenly realizing he had stood under the shower long enough that the skin of his fingers were shriveled and cold. He dried himself with a towel and dressed; outside the sun was glowing deep orange, nearing dusk. The sound of children at the playground had lessened. The day was taking a bow. He fixed himself a light snack and settled in front of the television again. He felt a ghost on his shoulder; a phantom sensation of someone resting her head on his shoulder. He told Evie that during lunch, earlier. That he had fallen in love with a ghost, that Farihin was nothing more than another Evie, and alternate Evie.

He felt a sudden, deep welling of shame. He was selfish. He had broken off with Farihin all because he thought he could have Evie back. The only saving grace was that Farihin did not take it too hard, though who was he to tell? For all he knew, Farihin was crying her heart out somewhere. That thought made him feel worse. He could almost feel his heart sinking in a pit of self-loathing.

It was terribly unfair to Farihin. She was a victim of his own selfishness. just the same as Evie was years ago. This time it was Farihin that was sacrificed all because Rafar thought he wanted something else. Who knew if he would actually end up happy with Farihin instead? Now there was no way of knowing. He doubted Farihin would accept him back after this. He did not want to anyway; it was enough to assume Evie would accept him. He did not want to hold the same assumptions for Farihin.

Can’t I do anything for someone other than myself? he thought.

Now he’s let a pretty young girl go, and lost the beautiful woman he was once with. His head felt fuzzy and confused, and Rafar lay down on his sofa, listening to someone on the TV babble about how polar bears have black skin beneath their white fur.

He thought about calling Evie but figured she probably would not want to speak with him. His eyes fell upon a tiny object on the coffee table, an object he had placed there. Evie’s ring. He picked it up, studying it. He remembered the day he had put it on her lovely finger, after the Nikah ceremony. A strong memory flooded him. He thought of their first night together, how they shared their first, true kiss, and how they had come together, skin on skin. He remembered being lost in each other’s love, melting into a world that belonged to just the two of them. Most of all he remembered reaching for her hand and seeing that ring on her finger, and thinking how lucky and grateful he was to have her.

Rafar fiddled with the ring in his hands before putting it back down again. He felt foolish, stupid and angry with himself. Maybe he got what he deserved. He did not even think if maybe Evie was seeing someone else. He felt irritated with himself again, and tried to shake of the thought. He tried to take a nap, but all that came to mind was the image of Evie, standing in the sunlight, dressed in all white with a pink bandanna holding up her hair.

He missed her. Always had, maybe. It’s just that it took him four years to fully realize how much.

--------

She Felt Stronger

-------

Evie Nadia loved Sundays.

Sundays were her own personal ‘me’ days, where she spent her time doing things she liked. For instance when she woke up this morning she had turned on the TV and made a big pancake breakfast, complete with whipped cream and strawberries and syrup. She ate it while she watched all manners of Sunday morning TV shows: girly stuff, news, sitcom reruns and even cartoons. Then she sat cross-legged on her sofa and read the newspaper. While she did that, she wondered what should she be doing this afternoon. She had already planned to drop by her parents’ house in Wangsa Maju for dinner, but she also did not want to be sitting idle at home doing nothing.

Maybe she should go shopping? She could use a pair of new shoes (girls could always use a pair of new shoes), or maybe do some grocery shopping at Cold Storage or Tesco’s. Is the car dirty? She thought, trying to picture her white VW Golf covered in grime, but knew she had just washed it a few days ago in fact. She made a note to herself to get her dad a chocolate cheesecake, his favorite, from Secret Recipe before she left for their house. Evie also thought she wanted to ask if Adam would go out with her; but then she remembered it was a Sunday and he would be busy at the restaurant.

The thought of Adam brought a faint blush to her cheeks. She had been seeing him often now for the past three months or so. She liked him. She could tell he was into her as well, but Evie was not letting herself rush into this, of course. She supposed there was a little bit of romance going on there; she felt it and she was sure he did, too, in the way their conversation lingered in the air before trailing off in a comfortable (yet awkward) silence, and the way at times they were so careful with their words, both of them only dipping their toes in the water to check the temperature and current.

She had forgotten what it was like to be in love, but she was sure it was probably not far off. She was not in love with Adam… not yet, anyway, but she knew she possibly well could be, on her way and that would be something beautiful. But right now, all Evie wanted was to have a good time with the charming and funny chef. In truth she was still afraid and a bit too proud to admit she liked him a lot. Maybe that was a bit old fashioned, as old fashioned as winking, but she would like it if Adam would be the first to initiate something bigger, and maybe actually ask her to be his girlfriend. God, I haven’t been someone’s girlfriend since, ever. Three months seems okay enough, she thought. Again that made her feel like a schoolgirl. But what were crushes and love if not timeless and ageless?

Last week during dinner she noticed Adam kept looking at the ring on her left hand; her wedding ring. She had already told him she had been married once, and he seemed okay with it. But now she wondered now if the ring was what kept Adam from taking things to another level. When they had walked later on his hand kept brushing hers; she wanted to hold his, and she knew, just knew, Adam wanted to hold her hands too. Maybe someday later then.

Still undecided on what to do to pass her time before going to her parents’, Evie grabbed her cordless house phone to call Adam. She missed him, although she was not yet fully aware of the fact. Just as she dialed the numbers, however, her cell phone rang from inside the room. Evie got up and stubbed her toe on the chair; she cursed out loud and grimaced, and hobbled to her bedside. She grabbed her phone and crashed herself on the bed, with one hand rubbing her toe. Evie glanced at the caller ID and frowned. It was not a number she recognized; usually that meant work, and the thought of work on a Sunday dampened her spirits a little. She pressed the ‘accept’ key.

“Hello?” she said.

“Evie?” said the voice on the other line. Evie raised her eyebrows.

“Rafar?”

------------

Two hours later she was at Raju’s Banana Leaf restaurant in Petaling Jaya, standing in front of the deep fryers the restaurant had. On a normal occasion she would be excited to come by there and take her pick from the various seafood and meats available. But today she was not particularly interested. She moved away from the deep fryers as she couldn’t stand the heat, and got annoyed at herself for standing in front of there in the first place. The waiters eyed her admiringly; it was a hot, sunny day, and Evie had put on a white t-shirt and comfy, airy white pants. She held her hair up with a pink bandana and had her big sunglasses on. Standing in the sunlight, she shone like a beacon.

Where is he? She thought; she did not know if her impatience had to do with the heat, or the fact she had agreed to meet him here. Evie recalled the telephone conversation earlier.

“Hi… Yes, it’s me. Do you have a moment?” Rafar had said.

“Uh, yeah,” Evie said, her eyebrows furrowed. “What’s going on? Where did you get this number, by the way?”

There was a silence.

“I asked Juliza.”

“Oh okay… so… what’s up?” Evie said. Her toe still hurt, but the pain was subsiding.

“Evie, I… Well… Listen, are you free for lunch?”

“Uh…”

“Please?”

Evie sighed and closed her eyes. “What’s going on Rafar?”

“I just need to see you. Just for lunch. Today.”

Evie glanced at her bedside clock. “What time?” she asked. Rafar told her half past one, at Raju’s in Petaling Jaya. Evie considered if she should agree and go, or if she should make an excuse and do her own thing. She must have been quiet for sometime.

“Evie? You there?” Rafar said.

“Yes, sorry…”

“Will you come? It’s my treat. Please?”

Evie had rolled her eyes and agreed. Rafar told her to be there half-past-one and wait for him. Evie wondered if he would come with his girlfriend. What’s her name? Farihin? Yes, that was it. She also wondered why, out of a sudden, did he call her up and ask her out to lunch. There must be something important then. Maybe he was getting married? Anyway, she had agreed and it was too late to back-out. She texted Adam saying she was going out for lunch. Adam had replied ten minutes late, with a smiley face: ‘:( wish I was there.’

So here she was at Raju’s, except it was almost 2pm and the sun was absolutely searing, and still no sign of Rafar. Evie waited another ten minutes; well aware the waiters of the restaurant were looking at her. A Chinese family passed by her, and their toddler, maybe no more than two years old, suddenly came to her and tugged at her pants. Evie smiled and squatted, saying hi and caressed the toddler’s cheek. She loved babies. The toddler smiled at her and touched her face, as if examining her. Evie giggled. How innocent! Then the child’s mother came by and smiled at Evie, saying her son was a bit too friendly with strangers. Evie gently pinched the baby’s cheek and they went away. When she stood up she saw Rafar standing in front of her. Her smile faded.

“You’re late,” she said. “I’ve been waiting half an hour.”

Rafar shrugged, a gesture she had deemed adorable long ago, but today seemed to annoy her a bit. Was he always like this last time? Carefree; care-less? Then she told herself that she was just irritated out of spite. After all, she did agree to come her by herself. She let her feelings calm down. She should not be antagonistic.

“Come, let’s take a seat. I'm starving.” Rafar said.

They had their lunch in silence, neither of them talking much, except the general ‘Oh, how’s work, how’s life, how are your parents’ doing?’ question and answer session. Evie felt a bit disconcerted to realize the man she had nothing much to say to was the man she had loved so desperately years ago, the man she had talked to everything about and kept no secrets from. It was even stranger considering the fact that she always thought she had so many things to ask him and tell him after their divorce. But now she had run out of words; or maybe she just did not need to know the answers to those buried questions anymore. The image of Adam lingered in the back of her mind, and she kept comparing him and Rafar. Finally she told herself to stop that.

They finished and had their ‘plates’ taken away. They had frequented this place often when they dated, and after they got married. When they went for a seat, both of them went straight away to ‘their’ table: the table they always sat at back in the day. It was subconscious, probably, but Evie had the feeling both of them were aware of that. Maybe they should have chosen another spot, one with no such memories or sentiments attached to it. But too late for that now. Evie thought Rafar would bring Farihin, but she was not surprised to see he did not.

“So why the sudden generosity, Rafar?” Evie said, realizing she had almost called him Wiseguy. “To what do I owe you this favor?”

“You owe me nothing,” he said. “It is I that owe you something… or some things. Well, I just thought it would be nice to see you…”

Evie cocked an eyebrow at him. He fidgeted in his seat. Their table was beneath a shady tree, and it seemed a few degrees cooler than before.

“I also wanted to apologize…” he said.

“For what?”

“The last time we met I was terribly inconsiderate of your feelings. That was a bad thing. So for that, I'm sorry.”

“And you’re buying me off with a banana-leaf lunch? That’s real classy.” Evie said, smiling and sipping her sweet lassi.

“Ehehe, well, that’s not totally it…” Rafar said and bowed his head down. He had his hands clasped together in front of him on the table, like was handcuffed. Evie waited. When it seemed that he was not going to say anything, Evie asked him how were things with Farihin. Rafar looked at her thoughtfully, and nodded.

“So?” Evie said, leaning a bit forward.

“I'm not seeing her anymore,” he answered. “We broke up about a month ago…”

“Oh... I'm sorry…”

“Don’t be… I was the one who broke up with her.”

“That is what you’re good at anyway.” Evie said. She meant it in good humor, and was surprised at herself for being able to make that joke. But maybe it came off too harsh.

“Well, you know…” he said. He looked her in the eyes. “Sometimes things just don’t work out the way you plan it to.”

Touché.

“So how did she take it?”

“Quite well actually. We talked about it. At first it seemed like she would cry; and she did, but just a little. But we hugged and said farewell. She did not seem that crippled about it, so to speak.”

“Oh. Good for her then. If I may ask..?”

“Sure.”

“Why?”

Rafar stared at his own clasped hands. Evie studied the man; for the first time since she knew him, he looked unsure or afraid. Evie propped her chin on one hand and gazed at Rafar, trying to figure out what he was about to say. He had his head down, and his eyes betrayed the swirling thoughts inside his mind. Finally he looked up.

“It was because of you,” he said. Evie’s elbow slipped. She sat straight up in her chair, and she squinted a little.

“What?” she said, thinking she heard him wrong. This time Rafar leaned forward on the table.

“It was because of you.”

“I heard you first time before Wiseguy, that ‘what’ constitutes a ‘what in the world do you mean by that?’ ‘what’.” She was feeling a bit angry now. What the hell was this? Rafar looked away to his sides, like he was confessing a crime. He bit his lips and cracked his knuckles. Evie leaned back in her chair, and crossed her arms in front of her. She too, bit her lower lip, her heart beating a bit faster.

“Evie, I never really told you why we… we separated. All the court and all the people know it was on the grounds of ‘irreconcilable differences’, and that was enough back then as an explanation.”

Evie suddenly felt a real stab of anger. “Oh sure, that was enough.”

“Look… I divorced you because I suddenly felt I was unhappy, and incomplete. Like I told you last time, I felt it would be both unfair for me and for you if I had stayed on; I would be lying to myself and I would be lying to you. I had to get away, and seek a better answer.”

Evie bit her lip but did not say anything. Rafar went on.

“I know you felt it was terribly unfair for you. And I guess I was a jerk for leaving it at that; I mean, for just leaving after we made it clear. I know I never made an attempt to apologize, or to say hi, or to just be friends with you. But I also knew that that was not what you wanted at the time. And back then, our wants and needs were too different to set aside. So I… I let you go.”

Evie mumbled under breath. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Okay. What you don’t know is how guilty I felt the day we divorced; how heart-wrenching it was when I saw you crying by yourself, and how terrible it felt to know I had wronged you. But I could not have done it any other way. I have to admit when we separated, I felt like an enormous burden was lifted off my shoulders; not just the burden to me, but for you as well. Can you honestly say that you would rather have had me stay even if it meant that we were fooling ourselves?”

Evie stared at him.

“Evie, we spent years apart after that. Remember when we met that day at Pavilion sometime after Hari Raya a few years back? God knew how much I wanted to ask you out. But I don’t remember what stopped me: my own ego, or maybe I thought you hated me and would have said no anyway. And then last year I met Farihin.”

“What. Is. Your. Point. Rafar?” Evie said. She refused to look at him, instead glancing sideways. She saw the toddler who had greeted her and waved, trying to hide her apparent discomfort.

“It was not Farihin that I fell for, Evie. It was a ghost. A ghost of you. A memory of you, a shadow, call it what you want, but after seeing you again the other day, I realized then that when I fell for Farihin, all I was falling for was another you. An alternate you.”

Evie rolled her eyes. She’s heard that before. She tapped her feet on the table stand. She felt like she wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere but here.

“I missed you. That was the biggest thing I realized. Seeing you at Juliza’s wedding, you took my breath away. I almost kicked myself in the nuts when I realized what a beautiful and amazing woman I had let go…” Rafar said. He sighed and looked down on his hands again. “I’ve made many mistakes in my life. Letting you go was the worst.”

Evie turned her gaze on him. Her lips were puckered up, angry. She stared hard the Rafar, but he did not notice. When he looked up Evie turned her gaze away. She did not want to look him in the face, in the eyes. Not right now.

“Evie… it’s been four years. I know now where I stand, and where I should have stood. I’ve always loved you. Always. I know in some way or the other you feel the same way. Evie, I want you back. I want to be with you again. I want you back.”

That did it. She turned her gaze on Rafar, hard and piercing. She leaned forward and spoke in a clear but low voice.

“You called me here for this?” she said. He nodded, clearly surprised at the cold fury in her voice.

“You call me up here and have your little speech. It’s all so nice and what-not with your falling in love with ghosts and your ‘alternate yous’, you make it sound so romantic and chivalrous, like this was a Nicholas Sparks novel, and that everything will end with a happy ever after, just like a fairy tale. You come up with all that after leaving me because of 'irreconcilable differences' years ago, like it was some sort of a little mistake. How do you think it’s supposed to make me feel? What did you expect me to say?

You talk about making a mistake and how you’re sorry for it and oh how you want me back. What do you take me for Rafar? I can’t believe you’re saying this. Where were you when I really needed you back then? Where were you when I cried myself to sleep on so many nights, just WISHING you’d suddenly knock on the bedroom door and tell me it was all just a bad dream? Where were you back then? Looking for that something to complete you?”

Rafar was quiet; stunned.

“You know what?” Evie said. “When I saw you at Juliza’s wedding I felt a mixture of emotions; sadness, anger, love, envy. But when we talked and went for coffee I truly realized how things have moved on between us. I guess maybe if that had happened two years earlier I would have gone back crying and wishing you were there with me. But I was proud when I realized I did not. I was a bit proud to realize you had no answer when I asked you what was it you wanted; I was proud because I saw that I had actually gotten over grieving the end of us. It was a huge moment for me.

Now suddenly you say 'I want you back', as if it's the simplest, most natural thing in the world. Be honest with me, Rafar: you thought I would immediately say ‘yes’ and that ‘I missed you all this time’ and come back into your arms straight away didn’t you?”

Rafar nodded, but slowly, unsure of himself. Evie shook her head.

“So pretentious! But you’re right: things don’t always turn out the way you want it to. Spare me the speech next time,” Evie said. And then more softly.

“I'm sorry if I'm being brash, or rude. But you can’t just expect me to forget the pain you’ve caused me. Yes, you must have felt it too, but why didn’t you do anything about it back then? Is it my fault then, that I respected your wishes to be left alone?

If so, I'm sorry. I really am. But I'm not that crying woman you saw at the Syariah court anymore Rafar. I'm not.”

She held up her left hand, and took off her wedding ring. She placed it on the table. His eyes followed her hand as she pushed it towards him.

“I'm just Evie Nadia, and I want to live my life the way I choose it.” With that, Evie got up. Rafar still sat there quiet.

“Thank you so much for lunch. And it is good to see you. I can’t deny that. But I think you’re just being selfish. I'm sorry. Goodbye Rafar. I'll see you around sometime. Maybe.”

Evie left.

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As she drove she calmed down. She glanced at the clock in the car and saw she had plenty of time left before going to her parents’ house. Besides, she needed to get her father a chocolate cheesecake as well. She decided to head back to her apartment and have a shower and a change of clothes; plus, the lunch at Raju’s had made her drowsy. She thought a nap would be nice.

When she reached home about half and hour later she had her shower and her change of clothes. Outside the sun was still hot and shining. Evie went to her living room and opened the sliding door and the windows; a gentle breeze made its way in. She lay down on the sofa, slowly feeling sleep get to her. But just before she fell asleep, she raised her left hand and glanced at the ring; except the ring was no longer there, she had left it with Rafar earlier, and now all that was left was a strip of skin that was even lighter in tone compared to her already very fair skin.

She drew a deep breath; her hand felt lighter, although that was surely just in her mind. More importantly, she felt that taking of the ring was a symbolic and significant act to do. Why she had waited so long, she did not know. Perhaps she was afraid.

But now that she took it off, Evie felt only one feeling surge through her body, filling her heart with warmth.

She felt stronger.

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Interlude: Evie Nadia Sketches

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Evie Nadia Hakimi, as she is currently

more at Incense+Peppermints

pictures drawn using a Wacom Bamboo One Digital Graphics Tablet.

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Evie and Adam, Then

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She had met the guy a few weeks back at a restaurant, where she was having lunch with some clients. And today is the day to tell the story.

Evie Nadia strolled beneath the streetlights of Jalan Bukit Bintang. She had always been partial to this place. Despite the relatively early hour, Bukit Bintang was bustling with people. She loved the atmosphere, the sense of occasion that seemed to radiate from the heart of the road. She loved the shopping malls, from Sungei Wang Plaza where she could find the tackiest knick-knacks, to the ridiculously upscale Starhill Gallery. Her sense always seemed to go on overload whenever she came by this busy shopping district; and she loved it.

Beside her, the man who had picked her up from her apartment and taken her to dinner casually walked with his hands in his pockets. Evie sensed that he was a bit nervous, as if he was not so sure of what to talk about. Sometimes he would open his mouth to say something, only to close it again and smile bashfully at her. Evie, on her part, just liked to see him so obviously try. She found it adorable. She did not have much to say herself, and for the moment, she let her eyes be dazzled by the neon lights littering the street, turning it into a grounded Milky Way. There was, however, a curious little smile carved on her lips.

The two of them walked in silence, and for a moment they were content. The man seemed to sense the futility or rather the silliness of attempting small talk right now, and had settled into a comfortable silence beside Evie. Evie clasped her handbag with both hands in front of her, her head slightly bowed down, her eyes shaded. For some reason she felt like a fourteen year old on her first date. It was the shy yet sweet awkwardness of it that made her feel that way.

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A few weeks ago Evie had lunch with a client at a new and classy restaurant at Bangsar. The food, simple yet beautifully presented, was exquisite. Evie was there with her client to discuss a new advertising project. The client, a Datin in her 40’s, was so stereotypical of a ‘Datin’ that Evie thought she was almost a parody of herself. Evie loathed her, in fact, but she was an important client to the advertising firm she worked at, and said firm had asked her to be the Datin’s personal liaison for the project she was currently commissioning. Of course, Evie had to pay for the lunch, which, as she had expected, was priced just like the food: ‘exotic’ and ‘exquisite’ are two words to describe it. When she had looked at the bill she knew instantly that it was not a place she would frequent.

Despite the great food, Evie was a lady of simpler tastes: her favorite meal would consist of rice and beef rendang with sambal belachan and ulam, or maybe a crabstick and mayonnaise sandwich. But a Datin would require Datin-class food, so there she was. She put her credit card on the bill folder, but much to her annoyance, their waitress was nowhere to be seen. In fact, there were no waitresses at all, not even the pretty Indian hostess who had seated her and the Datin.

Evie had finally excused herself from the Datin and picked up the bill with her card to bring to the front, expecting to see one member of service staff there. Instead there was a tall man, in a black chef’s jacket and faded Levi’s standing over the register, thumbing through what looked like a diary, the kind a secretary uses. The man had his back to her.

“Excuse me, I need to pay the bill”, Evie said. Much to her amusement, the man turned around quickly, surprised. He had not noticed Evie coming up behind him.

“I'm sorry, you startled me”, he said.

“Oh, then I'm the one who should be sorry then”, Evie apologized. “Could you happen to see if you can get me someone to handle my bill?” Evie handed the man the bill with her credit card, which he took. The man studied the bill for a moment.

“Isn’t your waitress there to assist you?”

Evie shook her head. “No, it seems they’re… missing…”

The man gave a laugh. “Alright then. Okay. I’ll take care of your bill for you. Please, have a seat. Would you like a drink? It’s on the house. Take it as a gesture of apology for the missing waitresses”

Evie smiled and refused. “It’s okay. Maybe the waitresses went for a drink or something”

“Indeed. I should have a word with them about taking sudden breaks when there are customers seated waiting to be served. Why don’t you have a seat, Miss, while I take care of your bill here”

“It’s alright, I’ll wait. I don’t mind. I’d prefer to wait here than to sit in front of a dragon lady”. The man raised his eyebrows, uncomprehending. Evie raised a hand, indicating ‘never mind’. The man smiled at her, a curiously charming smile that was also infectious. She could not help but smile back. As the man began to process her bill, she looked at him. He was a head taller than her, with broad shoulders that the loose fitting chef jacket could not hide. He was good looking, and to Evie, looked more suited to be some sort of bohemian traveler than a chef. He had a shaggy head of hair, straight and dark brown, and a prominent five o’clock shadow. He spoke in a polite and smooth way. In fact, the guy reminded her of George Clooney. Minus the grey hair and dimpled chin, of course.

“There you go… sign here please”, the man said as he handed her the receipt and a pen. Evie signed the bill and handed the pen back to him, smiling (rather foolishly, she thought) as she did so. The man smiled back at her. “Thank you for your custom”

Evie rummaged in her handbag, looking for her purse to store the credit card. “Do chefs always do bills here?”

“Oh, only me”, the man said.

“And why is that?”

The man rubbed his neck. “Well, because your waitress is missing. And because I know how. And because it’s my place anyway”

Evie looked up. “You’re the owner?”

The man smiled broadly, clearly proud. He extended his hand. “Hi, I'm Adam. And yeah, this restaurant right here is my pride and joy”

Evie shook his hand, expecting it to be rough from all the kitchen work. Instead his hand was soft as silk; almost as soft as hers! He must have noticed the slightly surprised expression on her face.

“I know. Girly hands huh? But I assure you; I do cook in this kitchen. Well, maybe not all the time. But often enough” he said. Evie laughed, which she did not expect to do.

“Nice to meet you Chef Adam”

“Oh God, please no. Just Adam would do”

“Ehehe. All right then. Adam it is. Your food was lovely by the way. I have to get back to the dragon at my table. She needs to be driven back to her lair, unfortunately” Evie said while motioning with her head to the direction of the Datin. She felt that she wanted to stay here and chat. There was just something so… charming about Adam. That was the best way she could put it into words.

“Of course. Here’s my card. Hope you’d come again. Give me a call and I’ll see to it you get the best seat in the house”, Adam said and handed her a black business card with white lettering. On it was written the name of the restaurant (‘Luna’), his name (‘Adam Amirulkhair’) and a phone number. Evie fished her own card out of her purse and gave it to him as well.

“Hi Evie… pleasure to meet you”, he said as he eyed the card. Evie smiled and excused herself, and much to her amusement, Adam winked at her. God, who does that these days! Evie thought. She went back to her table where the Datin was waiting, feeling curiously cheerful for no reason. Even the thought of driving back to her office with the Datin beside her did not seem so bad anymore. Hell, she even bought the Datin a frappe afterwards.

A few days after that lunch, Evie got a call just as she was about to leave her office. It was Adam. She was surprised, but pleasantly so. He sounded just as charming over the phone as he was in real life. He asked her where she was; she replied she was in her office, about to go back home.

“Hey, listen… if you’re free-ish one of these days, would you like to go for maybe a cup of coffee with me?” he said. Evie was again surprised, this time at the straightforward request.

“Coffee?” was all she managed to say, but damn if she wasn’t grinning from ear to ear.

“Was that too direct? I'm sorry…” Adam said over phone, sounding disappointed. Evie was quiet for a moment. Then she laughed into the handset.

“It was! But it’s okay… Ehehe. Shouldn’t you be hitting on your waitresses or something instead of a customer?”

“I can’t. You see, I draw a line between professional and personal relationships”

“Right. So is there a familiar line between customer and patron then?”

“Maybe. But we’re not talking about booking a table for two or catering a function here right?”

Evie had to smile. She could even imagine Adam smiling at the end of the line. It was a conversation of hidden smiles. Adam sounded hopeful. Evie gave in. She had nothing to lose.

“Actually I'm free right now. Where’s your favorite coffee shop?” she said.

“It’s the one right below your office building” Adam said and hung up. Evie’s jaw went slack for a moment, not believing the guy. But sure enough, when she went down from her office to the coffee shop on the ground floor, there he was, with two coffees in hand. He was wearing a light blue polo shirt with jeans, and he had Adidas sneakers on.

“You look like a latte girl, so that’s what I got you. You look great, by the way”, Adam said as he handed Evie the polystyrene cup. He grinned, clearly happy with himself for this trick. She was dressed in a black blazer over a white blouse, with black trousers. Evie felt happy despite her self, and welcomed the coffee. They took a seat, with Adam sitting opposite her. For a few minutes they just sat there, staring at each other over the rims of their coffee cups. Evie felt awkward and nervous but excited at the same time.

When was the last time she felt excited about things likr this? Guys tried to pick her up all the time. What makes Adam any different? Because, she told herself, he did not come up with some crazy pick up line; because he had simply called her up and asked her for coffee, with no pretense; because he had this aura of confidence in him, that she found herself admiring.

They sat there staring at each other, and then both of them started to speak at the same time. They laughed, and gradually they began to talk. He told her about life as a chef, and how at times, it was nowhere near as glamourous as people like Gordon Ramsay or Tony Bourdain seem to suggest. He spoke clearly and smoothly, attaching amusing and funny tags to his words. Evie, too, spoke about her career, telling an interested (she did not know if he was genuinely interested or just pretending to be, but she did not care; she was feeling butterflies in her stomach as Adam looked at her while she spoke. She noticed his eyes. Dark, and deep, belying an intelligence he did not really advertise, pun intended) Adam the knitty gritty of the advertising business. They talked for well over two hours when she finally noticed the sun had set and her coffee was unfinished. Suddenly both of them fell quiet.

“So”, Adam said finally. “I guess I better make a move then. Can I drive you home? Where do you live?”

“Oh, it’s alright, I stay at Sri Kenanga, near Jalan Ampang. But I'm driving myself”, Evie said whilst holding up the keys to her Vee-Dubya.

“Oh okay”, Adam said. Evie detected a small hint of disappointment, but for now she let it be. She had had fun talking to him. They both stood up.

“I'm headed that way”, Evie said, motioning to the elevators that would take her to the basement parking lot. Adam nodded, his lips clenched.

“I'm parked outside. Hopefully they didn’t clamp my wheels” he joked. “Hey… don’t suppose I could have your number can I? You know, just in case…”

Evie crossed her arms in front of her and raised one eyebrow. “In case of what’”

Adam shrugged. “You’d like to go for another coffee, maybe?”

Evie eyed the good-looking man in front of her. He’s earned it, she thought. “It’s zero one two, two six four, seven triple six”.

Adam fumbled with his handset and repeated after her as he keyed in the digits on his phone. Satisfied, he winked at Evie and said “I’ll see you then, Evie”

“Most people don’t do that anymore”, Evie said.

“Do what?”

“Wink”

“Well I'm not most people”, he said. He raised a hand and waved goodbye, and whistled as he walked out of the building. When he reached the exit he turned back, looked at Evie and winked again. Evie had to put a hand to her mouth, covering the wide grin she wore. She went home that night feeling very cheerful, just like on the day she had first met him. After a couple of hours upon her reaching home, as she was about to settle in front of the TV to maybe watch a movie or maybe play The Sims, her mobile phone buzzed, and unsurprisingly it was Adam. She ended up talking with him on the phone for more than two hours, and she felt like schoolgirl afterwards.

She agreed to a proper date when Adam asked her (“Evie… would you like to go to dinner with me? Maybe this weekend? It won’t be at my restaurant, I promise”), and their conversation that night ranged from the silly (“Do you think cows would keel over if they were asked to solve a math problem?”) to the mundane (“I think oil prices are gonna go up again soon”) to the downright sweet (“You have the prettiest smile, seriously…”).

For the first time since a while, Evie slept that night with a smile on her face.

And that was a few weeks ago. They had gone on that date, and yes, Adam kept his promise of not bringing her to his own restaurant. Instead they had gone to a noisy char kuey teow stall in Shah Alam, which Evie had absolutely enjoyed. After that date he had called her that night and again they had talked on the phone for hours. It was silly to think of, but that was what happened. And more often lately they both would text each other just to say hi and to chat. They saw each other almost everyday then, even if for just a few hours. Adam wasn’t like the other guys who had hit on her or took her on (thankfully) short lived dates. He wasn’t interested in trying to score with her; he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her. And Evie loved the fact he took her to a char kuey teow place instead of a cheesy candlelit dinner in a fancy restaurant. She was a romantic, certainly, but she was thrilled by the spontaneity of that date.

This feels different, she had told herself earlier as she was preparing for tonight. And it was; for one, she was interested to see where this was going. She liked Adam. She liked him a lot. He was funny, goofy at times, charming and spontaneous. He was unlike quiet and brooding and sarcastic Rafar, and that was a thought she immediately pushed away. Adam was… different.

Tonight’s date was set because, in his words, “Hey I miss seeing you. Wanna go for dinner?”. They had dinner at Piccolo Mondo Pizza, and the conversation was lighter than usual. It was not that they had run out of things to talk about; rather, they both felt that tonight was night more suited to a quiet time together, as unlikely as that may sound in Bukit Bintang. When he had come to pick her up earlier he had given her a bouquet of flowers. They were beautiful. It was the first romantic gesture he had made, and Evie knew then their relationship was slowly changing direction. Even more tellingly, tonight he was quieter than usual, like he was trying to say something that was more sincere but did not know how. It’s only been about five weeks, Evie told herself. Let’s not rush this.

As she thought that she looked at Adam walking beside her, both of them bathed in the neon glow of the streetlights of Jalan Bukit Bintang. Adam looked back, and they smiled at each other (they always smiled at each other, it was like their smiles were saying words unspoken). They had not said a word for sometime now. Evie was just letting herself soak in the atmosphere, and beside Adam, she felt comfortable and safe. She felt warm, a feeling that she thought was long lost from her heart. Of course, it was way too early to tell anything. But all the same, she welcomed that feeling.

This is different, she says to her own heart. That would suffice for now. She was content to be walking side by side with Adam. His quiet gave Evie a chance to study him more closely. She liked what she saw. Unconsciously she began fingering the ring on her left hand. The ring she always wore. She did not know if Adam had noticed the ring, but he’s a smart guy. He knew that she wasn’t married or anything anyway. But often Evie worried if the ring was too symbolic of something. Maybe it was time she took it off. It’s been six years anyway.

Maybe I will then, she said to herself, because this is different.

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Muhammad Rafar

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At half past seven in the morning Muhammad Rafar reached home, his body slick with sweat from his daily morning jog, his t-shirt sticking to his skin. He ran up the stairs to his fourth floor apartment, and before going inside he took some time to do cooling down exercises. After a few deep breaths he went inside. He wiped off some of the sweat and made his breakfast: toast with scrambled eggs, an apple and black coffee. He ate the breakfast whilst reading The Star he had picked up en route home.

When he finished he switched on the television but almost immediately turned it off; sometimes he wonders why he bought a TV when he watches so little of it. Rafar peeled of his exercise clothes and went for a shower.

He jogged an hour everyday. He liked the quiet hours he spent to himself in the mornings. Jogging sort of gave him time to think. The running had begun when he divorced Evie Nadia the same four years ago. Subconsciously he thought the running was more than just exercise: it was a way of leaving everything behind. Now he stood beneath the cool spray of his shower, his eyes closed, and he let the water wash himself clean. He also felt that showers were symbolic, just as much as he probably thought that running was a way of getting away from the past. Every time he emerged from those morning showers, it was as if he was reborn, ready to set foot in the world again.

Foolish thoughts from a foolish man, he thought as he killed the stream of water. He dried his body and checked out his reflection in the bathroom mirror: no need for a shave yet. He washed his face all the same, and brushed his teeth thrice. It was a peculiar habit of his, almost bordering on the obsessive compulsive. Evie used to say that one day his gums will cease to exist.

He dried himself completely, and put on a fresh t-shirt and his favorite shorts. He was a handsome man, but not in the classical sense. His face was slightly rounded, but his chin was squared. His eyes were black, and his nose straight to the tip. His lips are thin. He sported a clean-shaven look now because his girlfriend likes it that way, and he recently started wearing glasses, and though he tells people that it’s merely for aesthetics, the truth was that his eyesight had deteriorated a bit, maybe due to the amount of time he spent in front of a computer monitor. He did not have a ripped body, or a chiseled face. Rafar was tall and slender. He had lost some weight due to the jogging, and sometimes, in certain articles of clothing, he looked gaunt, like he had more bones than muscle. He always has a bed-head, his hair messy and un-kept, but by no means did he look like a vagrant. His looks simply reflected, and hid, his personality: he looked casual, carefree and relaxed.

Despite it being a weekday, he did not have to go anywhere yet. Technically he worked for a studio, of course, but nowadays he did more freelance work. This morning he intended to stay in front of his iMac and work on the hundreds of photos that he was paid to work on. Before that he made himself another coffee, no sugar, bitter than a blackboard (not that he had tasted a blackboard, of course, but he always imagined if he were to do so, it’d taste bitter).

He started working on this morning’s batch of images. He supposed the general public would have no idea that professional digital photography involved just as much post-processing as film. Rafar knew this of course; back in his college days he had taken a full year long course in Japan to learn it. It was a trip he never regretted going on. His skills had then developed until he was able to make a living doing his hobby. He had it good. How many people can say that, anyway? Armed with a camera and tripod and lenses and light-guns and a keen eye, his hobby had helped him pay for the apartment he lived in and the car he drove.

This morning the pictures were of the family of a prominent local politician as part of a feature in a woman’s magazine. He had taken perhaps 200-plus photos, but after carefully selecting and deleting the ones he thought were no good, he suddenly felt bored. He saved the good pictures and closed the application. It could wait anyway. He checked his mobile phone that was on the desk and saw one text message. It was from Farihin, his girlfriend. The message asked him to meet her up for lunch later in the afternoon. He replied a quick ‘OK’ and put the phone back down.

He had met Farihin a year ago at during KL Fashion Week him. The pretty lady in ‘grunge’ attire had caught his eye immediately. At first he thought she was an event manager or something, seeing that she was energetic and seemed constantly busy… but then he saw the camera and camera bag slung across her shoulders. After that day’s shooting, he actually went looking for her. Rafar found her sitting on the floor, leaning on a pillar. He had said hi and sat down beside her, much to Farihin’s amusement. They talked, exchanging views and having a look at each other’s pictures and equipment (he was using Canon, she was using Sony). Rafar had then asked for her number, which, to his surprise, she gave without hesitation.

Rafar had been charmed. Farihin certainly was very pretty. She had skin the color of honey and her lips were shaped like a cupid’s bow, sensuous and curvy. She was talkative and funny. He supposed it was safe to say he had instantly liked her. The fact that she too took pictures was a bonus for him. It was, after all, the fact that had led him to her. He had spend the days after last year’s KL Fashion Week texting and talking to Farihin, and found himself slowly but surely falling in love with the girl. As luck would have it, Farihin had developed feelings for him too. After more or less two months of talking and texting and exchanging subtle hints of attraction, Rafar asked her to be his girlfriend, and she had said yes. It was pretty straight forward.

At first it was strange for him because Farihin is the first girl he’s ever loved since he divorced Evie Nadia. And that is not to say he did not love his ex-wife; in fact, they had spent some wonderful times together. Beautiful, compassionate and understanding Evie Nadia. In the days since the divorce, he had only ever seen her twice: once three years ago just after Eid, and of course, at Juliza’s wedding. In truth he had not expected to see her at the wedding. Stupid, he knew, but he somehow had had a hunch that Evie would not come. When he was proven wrong, he had taken a few moments to think about how he would react. In the end he decided to just go along and talk. He had avoided talking to her initially. But when he had seen Evie walk out the hall and stand by the windows, he just thought it would be nice to say hello again. After all, there was nothing that said they could not be friends. So he had gone up to her and tried to strike a conversation, which, he thought, had gone on fine. Evie had even agreed to go for a drink with him.

He actually had a selfish reason as to why he had asked Evie to go out with him for coffee. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to know what she has been doing, what’s new in her life. He knew that she was working at a renowned advertising firm. He had, in fact, done a job for the very same firm she works at, doing product shots. Secretly he also wanted to know if she had anyone in her life. And now in retrospect he felt ashamed to himself to admit that he was actually glad that Evie had not remarried or even dated. Then he had slipped his tongue and had let that feeling known, even if he had said it out loud as a ‘joke’. Evie had rightfully gotten angry and stormed off. That was five weeks ago. He did not even get to ask for her number. Not that she would have given it, perhaps.

That was dumb, he thought, sipping his coffee. He remembered five weeks ago at how stunned he was to see Evie again after four years. She had changed a lot. She looked healthier, glowing, her complexion full of vitality. And dear God, she was gorgeous. She looked thirty, but a stunningly beautiful thirty. The last time he had seen her prior to that she was still wearing glasses, and was still skinny. But in four years… wow, Rafar thought. He was sure that if he told some of his friends about this, they’d roast him, telling him how stupid he was to have let her go. And he knew they would be right. But that was the past, and it was his decision. Things are different now. He thought that maybe Evie hated him for what he did. He never really gave her a real reason. He knew that had hurt her a lot more than if he had said he was cheating.

Rafar’s memories now floated to four years ago, on the day they officially split at the Syariah Court. He remembered how stoic and emotionless he had been, as if he was just waiting in line at a post office. Evie had been silent during that event. But one particular memory that had never been erased from his mind of that day was when he saw Evie sitting on a bench inside the building; he was already on his way out. He saw Evie sitting alone, a scarf loosely wrapped around her hair. She had her face in her hands and by the hitching movements of her shoulders he knew she was crying, sobbing. He could hear her, in fact. Then he saw her parent’s arrive and he remembered that Evie had thrown herself into her mother’s arms. He remembered he had glimpsed his ex-wife’s beautiful face twisted in sadness, her eyes red and watery. There was no such indication of the cheerful, spunky and pretty girl he had dated and married. It was if he that person had died within Evie. At that moment, he knew how terribly he had hurt the woman he had once promised to love endlessly.

Rafar wiped his eyes. He had not realized he was crying at the thought. He had never taken the time to say hi, or to apologize to Evie Nadia. In that four years he did not even make an effort to be friends. He had simply assumed that time will heal her wounds or make her forget. He had moved out of their apartment as quickly and as silently as he could, taking his stuff bit by bit, always coming during Evie’s office hours so he would not have to see her. One day, just like that, he was gone from her life. Rafar immediately focused on his career, almost demonically even. Still, the persistent questions remained. What was it that he wanted? What was it that he deemed missing in his life, so much so he divorced his wife? He always thought that he could justify the split by saying that it would be unfair for Evie if he cannot make her happy. But now that excuse seems just that: an excuse. He had never given her a real concrete reason.

But his life had gone on. After the official split he just looked forward and rarely looked back. He built his career with a solid foundation and had found success. Then he realized he had everything he had ever wanted but someone to share it with. When Farihin came into his view, he had been instantly attracted. She is a great girl, he told himself. And she is: smart, funny. He did not have to describe it in more detail, he just knew. Farihin made him happy, and is that not what life is about? Being happy and content?

Sitting alone now at his work-desk, Rafar leaned back in his chair and nodded. Yes, he was happy. Maybe he had been cruel and selfish in the past, but he also knows that maybe his life would have turned out differently if he had stayed with Evie. Maybe he would not be happy, and would have felt incomplete. Yes, he told himself, things do happen for a reason after all. He knows that he can build an entire life with Farihin. They were young and good looking and successful. Just because he divorced his first wife does not mean he can’t have another life, right? Besides, Evie looks like she has things going good for her anyway. She did say it after all, that she healed and was doing fine until he showed up again.

So maybe, he thought, I don’t need to bother Evie. Maybe we’re destined to be apart now. She seemed certain I would screw up her life if I entered it again. So yeah, maybe what was done is done, and there’s nothing we can do to turn back the clock or rebuild the bridges that were burned.

Rafar leaned further back on his chair, stretching his arms and legs, cracking his knuckles. He sighed, blowing air out of his lungs. He wondered why Evie had implied that he would screw up her life if he came back into the picture. But was it not obvious? She still, in a way no matter how small, loved him. But does he still love her? He thought of Farihin, his current girlfriend. He loved Farihin very much, and that was true, not some bullshit his own feelings generated to comfort himself. He loved Farihin because, as he mentioned to Evie the other day, and as he constantly reminds himself, Farihin is smart, and funny, and energetic, and spunky. In fact, he loved Farihin because… why, because Farihin is almost exactly like Evie Nadia was years ago, of course, who was he kidding?

Life, it seems, is full of irony.

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