Ali went down on his knees, his eyes not believing what he was seeing. He peered at her face, asking in fear, "Sophia, is that really you?"
Was it really her? Or someone that looked like her? Was his innermost desire so powerful that it makes him see her in another person? Has he gone mad?
Sophia smiled, her smile lighting up his entire being as she said in that all too familiar voice, "Yes, Ali. I am back."
Ali's face lit up and his eyes sparkled, gulping, "It's really you. Oh my God, it's really you!"
He smiled, his entire face gentle and loving as he came closer, holding her hands, "Sophia, my Sophia …"
He blinked, his brain finally truly registering what had happened, "MY Sofiya."
Sophia … no, Sofiya … smiled again.
Her smile was as sweet and serene, and Ali's felt a lump in his throat. He caressed her cheek, saying, with a hitch in his voice, "I missed you so."
"My wife."
He smiled very stupidly then and kept repeating, "My wife. My sweet, lovely wife. Mine. MY wife."
Sofiya giggled at that, which made Ali stop.
"And I missed you," Sofiya answered, equally softly.
Ali brought his face closer but stopped suddenly upon hearing his father clearing his throat. He was so caught up in the moment that he forgot that there was an audience.
"We still have a ceremony to complete," Johan reminded him.
"The guests are waiting," Raika continued.
Ali looked down, a bit embarrassed and then stood up. He looked at his new wife, love in his eyes as he held out his hand. She took it, and he held her hand tightly.
Together, they walked out to greet the guests, who cheered loudly as she emerged. Sofiya looked down shyly, and Ali pulled her to his side. He put his hand on her waist and grinned happily at everyone.
At that moment, he was happy.
But, it wasn't truly complete for the Elite Five weren't around.
He regretted not calling them, but the past is the past.
What's done, is done.
Although he was sad that they were not by his side, he wasn't going to let that ruin the rest of the event.
He kissed Sofiya's forehead and the crowd went wild. Sofiya hit Ali's chest in embarrassment and everyone laughed.
They headed to the patio, to start the banquet.
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That night, Ali looked at Sofiya who was taking off her bridal make-up, still wrapping his head around the fact that he was married, and he was married to her.
Sofiya saw him staring at her from the reflection in the mirror, and she smiled, yet did not say a thing. Once everything was removed, she started taking off the various hairpins in her hair.
Ali came up behind her and helped her, taking them out one by one, carefully and putting it on the dressing table. Sofiya sat up straight, watching her husband take care of her.
"I thought you said Islam wasn't for you," Ali said softly as he continued his gentle care.
Sofiya knew that Ali had many questions, and she had been prepared to answer them. This, obviously, was the most important one and must have been on his mind all this while.
"Let's play a game, shall we?" she suggested.
"What sort of game?"
"The question games, of course," Sofiya replied, "Each of us will ask the other questions."
"Oh," Ali said, nodding.
He had lots of questions, but what sort of questions did she have for him? He was now curious about that.
"I lied to you," Sofiya admitted, "I wasn't sure yet at that time, but I didn't want to tie you down and wait for me."
"You did what?!" Ali exclaimed in surprise. Despite his surprise, he was still careful about the pins (there certainly was a lot of them!), "How could you do that? You mean, you broke up with me …"
"Ah ah," Sofiya admonished him, "One question per time. It's now my turn, right?"
"Oh, yes," Ali said, properly chastised, "I'm sorry. Yes, your question?"
"Why were you so willing to get married?"
Ali sighed at that, and pulled out the last pin. He ran his fingers through her soft curls and let it fall nicely onto her shoulders and back, "I wasn't. But I figured, I owed my parents that much, at least. Since I never wanted to get married if it wasn't you, I might as well accept their choice for me."
He looked into her eyes through the reflection in the mirror, "I can't believe that my parents planned all of this behind my back with you. When did you get back?"
"A month ago," Sofiya replied.
Ali's face scrunched up, "A month? But …"
His parents had brought up the issue of them getting married before she came back? It meant that they knew where she had been?
It didn't make sense. How …?
Before he could think on it more, Sofiya had got down from her chair, turned and took his face in her hands. She asked, "I'm sorry for leaving, Ali. I'm sorry for breaking up with you, Ali. But I had to, in order to find myself."
She touched his face so lovingly, and she said softly, "I heard how it was for you this entire time. I …"
"Ssssh," Ali said, taking her hands in his, "That is in the past. I don't resent nor blame you for it. It made me stronger. I resigned myself to Allah, and the plans that was made for me."
He pulled her closer to him, putting his hands around her waist, "And His* plans for me is truly wonderful."
Ali kissed her then, softly at first, then more passionately. His tongue slid in as she allowed entry and soon, the sounds of their kissing filled the air.
This time, he didn't need to stop before getting his fill.
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