Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility)

Azmir and I rise from the table and I’m gestured to go ahead of him and follow Aata. We walk down a few feet, west of our dinner tent to the most awe-inspiring lounge on the beach I’ve ever seen. Continuing with the white linen theme, there was a sofa-like seats arranged in an “L” shape with an oversized coffee table in the center. All the furniture sat on pine-wicker bases, giving a homely feel to it, except the seaside view reminded you that you were out in nature. Lights burned by way of tiki torches and a bonfire in the sand, all of this illumination creating the most beautiful glow against the sand, water, and moon.

I must have been stopped in my tracks by it because Azmir whispered in my ear, “Let’s go and have a seat.”

I turned toward his voice and looked up to see the glow bounce off his chocolate skin. Trying to calm myself, I continued my stride towards the display. We are seated and Aata leaves us to ourselves. I can’t help my gawking at the entire scenery. This man’s romance has no boundaries. How does he know how to court me so well? It further fueled my frustrations with our relationship.

“Why, Azmir? Why for me?”

With a trace of irritation on his face he snorts as he sits back to find comfort for his long torso on the sofa. He murmurs, “You have no clue, do you.” He phrases it with incredulity rather than in a question form.

“As a matter of fact, I don’t. This is what I was trying to say earlier. I’m so bewildered here,” I mutter lowly.

Aata returns and is accompanied by Ihu. They’re carrying stainless steel salver trays. Aata has two and sets one down. Azmir is biting his thumb nail. Can this night get anymore odd?

“Mr. Jacobs, Ms. Brimm, your dessert selections tonight,” Aata says and then looks to Ihu who uncovers his tray. “In this selection, we have your traditional American favorites; apple pie, caramel bread pudding, sherbet, chocolate lava cake, carrot cake, crème br?lée, and key-lime pie.” I notice Azmir’s attention is elsewhere as he gazes behind the sofa with his arm resting on the back of it.

Aata then removes the cover from his tray and continues with, “Here, we have our traditional Polynesian favorites such as haupia pudding, pineapple tortes, kulolo, banana guava pie, Lilikoi chiffon cake, and an assortment of bars.”

Aata’s attention turns to the third tray that sits on the center table before me. He doesn’t raise the cover, but touches it and Azmir, out of nowhere, says, “Rayna Brimm, your gift of friendship has been far beyond the scope of anything that I can reference.” He leans into me, “You said that I’ve never told you I loved you and you’re right, but not because I don’t. It’s because love is a phenomenon that I’ve survived without for so long that when it slapped me in the face a few months back, it staggered me. It took some time for me to adjust to the force of nature, and clearly, it has caused you a bit of confusion.” Azmir squares his shoulders and clears his throat.

“So here it is: Ms. Brimm, I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment we sat in the bleachers at the Lakers game at the Staples Center last spring and I watched as you informed your girlfriend of your whereabouts.” My breathing caught in my throat. Between the aquatic backdrop, the romantic ambiance, and the powerful words that were pouring from Azmir’s lips, I questioned whether I was in a deep sleep and in a captivating dream. I remained quiet as he continued, “I fell in love with you the night we had to rush to the hospital to see about Michelle during your first visit to my apartment.” Azmir’s long lashes descended, closing his eyes as if he were removing a mask and it was difficult to be this vulnerable.

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