Omar sighed, running his thumb over the knotted braiding of the basket edge. “I used to come up here a lot when my wife was ill.”
Marian’s chest tightened at the mention of his wife. She’d forgotten about that detail, and the realization crashed around her. She looked up at him, unsure what to say.
“And then a lot more once she passed,” Omar went on, a familiar clouded look coming over his face. He stared out at the day, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Marian waited for him to continue, but he didn’t go on.
“I can see why this would be nice in a time like that,” she said quietly.
“She had cancer,” Omar said. “It came on so fast. She was diagnosed just a few weeks after we got married. We didn’t have much time together.”
“How long did you date before you got married?”
Omar smiled sadly. “It was an arranged marriage. My father’s suggestion.”
Marian tried hard to swallow her surprise. Annabelle’s own brush with an arranged marriage sounded like something out of a movie, but to think that Omar had actually done it! Be sensitive. Be calm.
“I know it sounds…crazy,” Omar said, raising a hand as though to combat the thoughts she hoped he hadn’t picked up on. “But it was fine. She and I had known each other for years as acquaintances. Our families are close. So it worked well.”
“But did you…” Marian stopped herself before blurting out something insensitive. She’d rather die than be another Kelly. “I mean, did you have feelings for her?”
“Sure, after some time.” Omar rubbed his thumb over his palm in a slow, methodical circle. “We loved each other very much. Her illness brought us together, ironically. So we savored every moment we had.”
A painful silence consumed the air between them. Marian let his words hang in the air as she studied the shiny waters of the Gulf.
“I don’t talk about her much,” Omar went on. “My family doesn’t bring her up anymore. They just act as though I’m a regular bachelor. My father has suggested another marriage, but it wouldn’t be right.”
Marian’s skin prickled. Was this the let-down speech she’d been dreading? The you’re-really-great-but-I-just-can’t-right-now talk she’d heard in varying forms her entire life?
“Do you want to be a regular bachelor?”
Omar met her gaze briefly. Sadness filled his dark eyes, and for a moment, she regretted the question.
“Sometimes. But I just don’t know.”
Marian reached for his arm, letting her hand slide down to meet his. They clasped hands, his warmth rooting her to her spot. She didn’t quite understand what had prompted the sharing on his part, but it was a sweet moment anyway. Even if she could sense the rejection coming from a mile away.
“You remind me of her,” Omar said, his voice so quiet she thought she’d misheard him. “I mean, you two are nothing alike. But there’s something about you.”
“Something about Marian,” she cracked.
Omar grinned. “Right. Your energy...I don’t know. It’s nice.”
She offered a small smile, squeezing his hand. “Well, that sounds good.” At least you’re not telling me that the orgasms last night were a mistake.
Omar sighed heavily, like shaking off the mood. “I’m sorry if that was too much. I don’t know why I told you all that, to be honest.”
“It’s okay.” She dragged her fingertips up his arm, under the cuff of his short-sleeve shirt. “I like getting to know you. Even though I feel like I already know you.”
He smiled, slipping his arm around her waist. The basket drifted noiselessly through the blue sky, and they leaned against the edge.
“What I should be talking about is whether you’re a fan of the hot air balloon,” Omar said, looking down at her. The sparkle was back in his eye. “Do you want to pilot it? We’re sinking a little.”
She jolted upright. “Sinking? Is that normal?”
“Yes, of course. We need to either give it more flame or let it continue to float downward.” He guided her hand toward the propane valve in the center. “Want to try?”
She grimaced as she tugged the lever like she’d watched him do. The flame flicked up quickly then subsided when she let go.
Omar laughed. “Great. Now do it longer.”