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“Babe, what are you looking at?” It was just another day in the pharmercy household, Fareeha sipping coffee as she snapped the newspaper into shape. The black tank top and sweatpants were really completing the ‘early dad’ look. Angela was pressed against the kitchen window like a dog at a pet store. Her bathrobe was, inversely, really completing the ‘broken wine mom’ look. Hana was concerned.
“Watching the mailman.”
“And what are you doing that for?” Fareeha didn’t look up from the morning news, adjusting her reading glasses. They were fake. She thought they made her look more mature.
“My package is a day late.” Angela hissed through clenched teeth, projecting her anger onto the poor service worker. Fareeha sipped her coffee. “Alright, he’s gone. Wait for me, sweetheart.”
“I’ll never let go, jack.” Fareeha mumbled, really getting into an article about the newly funded library wing. The front door swung open as Angela contended for the 100 meter dash. Hopefully she wouldn’t break the mailbox this time. Fareeha had barely picked up her mug, took a sip, and set it back down before Angela burst back inside, slamming the door behind her. “Package show up?”
“You know it, sweetheart.” Angela leaned against her wife’s back, setting her chin on her shoulder before slapping down the newspaper with a rectangle of a brown package. Fareeha blinked.
“So what is it?”
“Do you know what day it is today?” Angela whispered into Fareeha’s ear, finishing her sentence with a small breath that sent a shiver down Fareeha’s spine.
“T-tuesday?” Fareeha was stuck between the table and a soft place as Angela waved the package in front of her face.
“No, sweetheart, it’s Valentine’s day!” Angela huffed. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”
“How could I forget something so important, and special, to you, babe?” Fareeha regretted her entire life as she tried to remember how late the Fred’s Meyer’s botanical section was open.
“I’ll let it slide. Anyway, let’s move to the living room.” Fareeha obliged as Angela headed for the couch, making a small stop by Dieter’s cage. “Poor thing. No one to spend Valentine’s with.”
“We’re not getting another rabbit.” Fareeha crossed her arms as she sat on the couch, already cynical enough after feeding him breakfast every day. That’s what happens when you wake up first. Angela looked like she might cry, holding eye contact with her wife was she pulled Dieter from his cage into her arms.
“But look at him.”
“He looks the exact same as any other time I’ve looked at him.”
“Look at him closer.” Angela dumped the rabbit in Fareeha’s arms before taking a seat next to her, making sure to obtain maximum bodily contact before going back to her package. “Anyway, for Valentine’s, i thought it would be sweet if we looked back a bit.” Fareeha rubbed Dieter behind the ears, waiting as Angela tore the packaging from her present. “So I had our photo album shipped up from my old workplace.” The white album looked just as new as when they first got it, save for a frayed edge or two.
“That was so long ago…” Fareeha stared off into space, contemplating her married life.
Angela shrugged, “10 years.” The album opened, its black and white photos faded with age.
It was a bright summer day, barely noon as the courtyard hummed with activity. It was the day everyone had been waiting for; a week earlier the Major had finally mustered enough courage to propose.
“I still can’t believe it’s finally here.”
“You saw the way they looked at each other, it was going to happen sooner or later.
“But wasn’t she her patient? You know what they say…”
“This is the front lines! Besides, she was only a patient until they got that bullet outta her. Tough as a brick, our major.”
Fareeha’s platoon was mingling in the courtyard, exchanging words with Angela’s medical branch as everyone awaited the ceremony. A week earlier they had been stationed in the lush jungles of Pacific Asia, a bloody battle that waged for a total nineteen years. The appointed Major, twenty at the time, had been doing her best to keep things running. It was no secret that the stress of her position had been taking a toll on her, leading up to the moment that a bullet found its way into her gut. Paramedics rushed her back to the temporary base, right onto the cutting board of Dr. Ziegler.
The aspiring doctor was not officially stationed at the front lines, but not because she wasn’t military personnel. Angela Ziegler worked for a private medical company that wasn’t going to be hired for another two weeks, but here they were. No one really knew what they were doing here, not even Angela’s own medics. But there were rumors among Fareeha’s platoon. Human experimentation, organ looting. The doctor scared them, especially when they thought they saw a smile behind the blood-splattered mask. No one said anything after she saved their life, though. Anyway, Fareeha writhed in pain in the makeshift tent, bleeding through clenched teeth as Angela got to work with tired eyes. It was a simple procedure, at least for Angela, and Fareeha was soon sitting on the edge of a cot, holding her bandaged side.
“W-why did you hold off on the anesthesia?” One of the nurses spoke up, her mind still filled with Fareeha’s screams when Angela had dug around her insides.
“Because.” Angela tugged down her mask, locking eyes with the Major. “She wants to go back out there, not spend time coked up on a bed. Isn’t that right?”
Fareeha cracked a smile, the deadpan expression of the doctor striking a nerve. “Hey,
doc.” The grunted as she pulled herself up, stumbling, wiping the sweat from her eyes. “When I get back from lighting those guys up, have something ready for me.”
“...” Angela paused, a small glimmer appearing in her eyes. “I can do that.”
Twelve hours later, Angela made good on her promise, greeting the Major with a cot and a bottle of painkillers. The platoon had made good on their advance, successfully clearing the way for a communications crew that was scheduled to move through the area in a week’s time. The injured and suffering felt a bit more gracious after the mission, their Major a beacon of awe when she returned to the line with a patched side and a gun in each hand.
From that point on, the Doctor watched the Major a bit closer, checking up on her wound at the slightest provocation. It wasn’t long before Fareeha’s men started teasing her about the matter. The Major, on the other hand, found herself glowering red each time she had to hike her shirt up, trying to stay still as Angela traced a thin finger over the healing scar. The nurses started taking notes every time Angela left to check up on the injured soldiers, usually after a failed surgery. Only they knew Fareeha’s pulse was checked twice as long as it needed to be.
The offense was slow, as the whole war was slow, and months passed. New recruits quickly learned the ropes, but more often than not ended up in bags behind Angela’s tents. New orders came as well, each more risky and dangerous than the last. It was apparent they were losing the battle, their country desperate to save face. Fareeha found herself separated from her men, appearing cold and hard to the new ones, and the old ones slowly dying over the months. The final blow came when Angela’s company was let go, the budget to pay them cut as Egypt started to pull out.
“Got some mail today.” The doctor sat on a stool by Fareeha’s cot, the Major recently having had a bad run-in with some barbed wire. Angela held the fateful envelope in her hands.
“Good news, I hope. We could use it.”
“Nothing of the sort, sweetheart.” Angela handed her the letter. She gave Fareeha a moment to read it, gauging her expression.
“...This is ridiculous.” Fareeha let the letter fall to the ground. “I suppose you’ll be leaving, then?”
“I’m not leaving anytime soon.” Angela tsked. “There’s still work to be done here.”
The war continued as what was left of the detachment clung on. Reinforcements slowed, eventually stopping altogether. Other than new orders, it became obvious they were left for dead.
“They want us to take a chemical weapons factory a few dozen miles from here. I barely have enough men to hold the line!” Fareeha waved her hands at the doctor, venting from her spot at the doorway. “I don’t know what to do.” The stress was showing more than ever, the Major snapping at the slightest provocation.
“Take the factory.” Angela was sitting at a small fold-out desk, reviewing the piling operation assessments.
“How?!”
Angela shrugged. “Steal enemy uniforms? Go under the cover of nighttime? Don’t you have advisors for this?”
“They’re dead. I’ll do what I can.” Angela watched as she left the tent, concern in her eyes.
It was a half a week since Fareeha’s squad had headed out, leaving the rest of the platoon to defend the line. Angela spent her days with cold eyes, spending her spare time staring at papers, throwing herself into her work. The pile of black bags behind the tent grew.
“Any news from the Major?” Random soldiers were questioned, often while bleeding on the operating table. She disguised the concern with small talk. The cot she often reserved for Fareeha was left empty as time slowly drawled on.
“Doctor, I appreciate what we’re doing out here, but I believe it’s time to consider our own safety.” Personnel began worrying as the sounds of battle from the front line drew closer, pressing their leader to pull back like they were supposed to half a month ago. Angela ignored the complaints, muttering something about what great work they were accomplishing out here.
It was another loud day when the news came, Angela working in her tent as usual when an exasperated soldier stumbled through the entrance.
“The Major! Her team! They’re back!” Angela pushed the man aside as she ran out, Fareeha’s team laying on the dirt, the Major herself gratefully sipping a bottle of water. It turned out they had stumbled on an abandoned mortar nest, the enemy leaving it behind as they tried to put pressure on the front line. Fareeha’s team had used it to shell the factory, thankfully using its own contents to finish the job.
“You made it.” Angela gasped, falling to her knees in front of the exhausted Fareeha. “Thank heavens.”
“Hey, Dr. ziegler.” Fareeha set the water on the ground, wiping some of the tears from Angela’s eyes. “Being out there, it really made me reevaluate my priorities. Maybe it was because I was separated from you, but I think I realized what’s most important. So, with that in mind…”
“Ja?”
“Would you marry me?” Fareeha couldn’t stop her hardened face from blushing as she final said the words she had been reciting since she left. Angela covered her mouth, tears breaking from the corners of her eyes.
“Of course I will, of course.”
A week later and everyone found themselves in a courtyard in Egypt, Angela’s company striking a deal to evacuate the remaining soldiers home at a cut-rate price. No one asked why a private medical company had battle-ready helicopters. After a short welcome-home ceremony, and enough medals to keeps the soldier’s mouths shut about why their country left them for dead, it was time for the festivities. Mountains of umm ali, basbousa, and other Egyptian delicacies spread the tables of the courtyard, greedily attacked by a company that hadn’t eaten sugar in the longest time. Angela had a few Swiss cakes flown up, sticking the shipping fee’s to Fareeha’s higher ups as part of the reception costs.
And now we were back to the present, soldiers and doctors sliding into their seats, facing the gazebo where Fareeha fussed over her decorated uniform. Quiet whispers could be heard throughout the crowd, wondering why the bride was taking so long.
“Please let me wear something else.” Angela begged in a hushed tone, pining for her old lab coat.
“You’re going to look back on this day with regret if you don’t look your best, Doctor.” One of the nurses lectured her as she finished brushing Angela’s hair, the usual messy ponytail turning into a cascading stream of blond down her back. “How long has it been since you had it cut?”
“I’m shaving my head after this.” Angela wringed the bouquet in her hands. Her wedding dress was strapless, her shoulders covered with a shawl. The gloves on her hands ran up to her biceps, the entire outfit gleaming white. The company splurged on this one.
Fareeha perked up as her bride came into sight, her appearance quickly followed by the crowd breaking into a marriage hymn. Mr. Song was killing it on the harmonica tonight. Anyway, Fareeha was beet red as her renaissance painting of a wife made her way to the steps, soon standing face to face with Fareeha. The singing died down, and the officiator spoke up.
“We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Ms. Fareeha Amari and Dr. Angela Ziegler. Do you, Fareeha Amari, take Angela Ziegler as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
Fareeha tried not to hyperventilate as she stared into the expectant eyes of the wonderful doctor, feeling more elated than any time in the past five years.
“I do.”
“And do you, Angela Ziegler, take Fareeha Amari as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
Angela smiled, taking a moment to breathe it all in, never imagining this day would come.
“I do.”
“If anyone sees reason that these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.” He paused. “I pronounce you two wife...and wife. God bless.”
Fareeha pulled her newlywed wife close, holding her neck as the two kissed, the world sparkling around them. Soldiers cheered. Medics threw roses to the sky. Nothing was, in that moment, more beautiful than either of them. A camera flashed. Songs started up again. The food was replenished. The worst was finally behind them.
“I’m surprised you were given such a large budget for this reception.” Angela mused over a glass of wine, watching a soldier unsuccessfully flirt with one of the nurses. Fareeha stood next to her, shoveling hor d'oeuvres into her mouth from a small plate. She swallowed.
“I think it might have something to do with nearly being left for dead, but I’m just glad it worked out.”
“You’re welcome~” Angela smirked as she poked Fareeha in the side, a scar hidden underneath the lavious uniform. “I’m taking you home for the honeymoon, and you’re not allowed to refuse. Switzerland is beautiful this time of year.”
“Wish mom and dad were here to see this.” Fareeha mumbled under her breath, watching the soldiers break out in dance, chanting and clapping as they took turns in a circle. Angela set down her glass, taking off her shawl to loop it around the major’s neck.
“I think it’s time we skip out, sweetheart. Sooner or later we’ll have to consummate the marriage, and I think I prefer sooner.” A few guests watched as Angela led Fareeha away with a silk leash, exchanging knowing looks and loud sips of drinks of acknowledgment; no one saying a word.
A week later and the brides were in Angela’s home country, sitting on the balcony of a company penthouse with a waffle iron and an icebox of beer. Sunglasses on, pants off, sunbathing ten stories off the ground. Life was good.
“I have to say, never been to Switzerland before. It’s nice.”
“You can say that again.” Angela burped as she took another swig of beer, definitely tipsy despite it being 10 in the morning.
“What should we do today?” Fareeha pushed her sunglasses onto her forehead. The now ex-Major was offered several promotions for her tour, but chose instead to ask for discharge. Although her announcement came as a shock, no one could fault her after what she’d been through.
“Do we really have to do anything?” Angela spoke into her bottle, not planning on ending the honeymoon for at least another month.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing the town, I know we’ve been here for a week but we’ve barely done anything.”
“...Alright. I know a few places.” Angela downed the rest of her drink and stood up, stumbling back inside for the door. “Lesgo.”
“Babe, please put some pants on.”
“Lesgo.”
“Babe, no.”
The stone path was hard under Fareeha’s sandals, the excited ex-Major walking along with a broad smile on her face. A denim jacket and cargo pants had her looking like a powerline technician, save for the beautiful girl wrapped around her arm. Angela had opted for a white sundress and yellow beret, cheek pressed firmly against her wife’s bicep. The pair walked along a narrow alleyway of stone walls and hanging plants, rows of wooden houses and picket fences on either side. Eventually they came to a wider road, the alleyway branching out into a street of shops and foot traffic. A bike whizzed by. Fareeha looked at everything with wide eyes as she let Angela lead her, everything vastly different than what she had seen growing up in the middle east.
A tug from Angela pulled her back to her senses, the blond girl laughing as they ran across the street, stopping in front of a shockingly beige store. There was a chocolate fount in the shop window, Fareeha finding herself instantly enthralled as they entered the door. A bell ringed. The clerk was a large brunette woman, welcoming them with a warm smile and a nod.
“This is the best chocolate this side of Zürich, so buy whatever you want.” Angela left the awestruck soldier alone, leaving to pick out some choice marzipan fruit. Fareeha stared at the tall walls of the store, the insane amount of candy seeming to tower over her puny mortal self. She could feel her mouth water as she looked at the confusing German labels, grabbing a word here or there. A bag of truffles caught her eye. Imagine you have one item left on your shopping list. Then you see someone grab the last of that item. Then you see them hesitate and put it back. That kind of godly appreciation was hitting Fareeha twice as hard as she picked up the package, the promise of chocolaty goodness plastered on the front in glorious laminated HD. She brought it over to her wife, tapping the sundress-clad woman on the shoulder. She turned around.
“Ja?” A woman that was, more than likely, not her wife turned around. Fareeha stuttered.
“I. uh. Excuse me.” Fareeha hurriedly sped away, face red as she found Angela. Angela was laughing after watching the exchange. “Don’t laugh.” Fareeha stared at the floor like a embarrassed child.
“Sorry, sorry. You ready to go? I see you found something you liked.” Angela gave her a pat on the back, taking the truffels. “Very nice. Let’s buy these and go somewhere special.”
The shop door rung again as it swung closed behind them, Angela carrying a heavy paper sack.
“Come, I’ll show you what I was talking about.” Fareeha found herself being led by her sleeve as Angela ran ahead, occasionally looking back with an open smile. The pair ran through the town, nearly getting hit by a bike or two, eventually ending up at the edge of town. Fareeha watched the setting sun as they slowed to a walk, making their way up a large hill near a windmill. The large blades rotated slowly in the summer breeze.
“Is this the place?” Fareeha asked as she watched Angela sit down at the top, the doctor digging the treats out of the bag.
“I love it here. I found this spot the day after I founded the company, no other place captures the sunset just as well. And now I have someone to share it with~” Angela patted the grass next to her. “Hurry up and sit down.” Fareeha obliged, eyeing the truffles.
“Can I have a- “ Fareeha was cut off as she watched Angela stick one between her lips before turning expectantly to the major, eyes closed.
“Yesh.” Her voice was muffled. Fareeha could feel sweat dripping down her face as the pressure of the situation overwhelmed her. Quickening heart. Cold palms. Everything seemed to pale in comparison to the sheer awe of her wife waiting to feed her chocolate, not to mention mouth-to-mouth. Was she allowed to enjoy life this much? Her mind was a hurricane of confusion. Angela, impatient as always, sighed, tackling the soldier to the ground before sitting on her stomach. She leaned down, keeping the hair out of her eyes as her mouth approached Fareeha’s. Fareeha gulped before opening her mouth, accepting the chocolate and the deep kiss that came with it, the grass cool against her skin. The candy melted in her mouth, deep and rich, only exemplified by the warm lips pressing against her. A second later and Angela sat up, wiping smeared chocolate off her lips. The two sat there for a minute, admiring each other as the sun continued to set behind them, casting dark purples and oranges on the evening clouds.
“Did you have a good day today?” Angela asked as she started unwrapping a marzipan, keeping Fareeha pinned underneath her.
“The best.” Fareeha smiled. The picnic lasted far into the night, a night of sweet whisperings and loving smiles. The two passed out in each other’s arms, exhausted and full of candy from one of the best days in both their lives.
Angela smiled as she made it to the end of the photo album, a color picture of their house when they first bought it. She set it on the coffee table with a satisfied clunk, taking a deep breath.
“It’s really been quite a ride.” Fareeha gave the album an affectionate tap, cuddled up with her wife on the sofa.
“The best I ever could have asked for, sweetheart.” Angela held Fareeha’s hand a bit closer, running over the the veins and freckles with her thumb.
“Do you think we’ll go back there someday? To Switzerland? Maybe Egypt?”
“I don’t see why not. I’d be nice to see if we can find that same store. Maybe I’ll buy it so it never has to shut down.”
Fareeha chuckled, cupping Angela’s cheek with a free hand. “I’ve never made a better decision than proposing to you that day.” The doctor blushed. “Happy Valentine’s day, babe.”
“..Happy Valentine’s to you too.” The two slid into a loving kiss, reliving the past for moment as their love only grew each second they were together. They could feel themselves, in Pacific Asia, in Egypt, in Switzerland, in America, all the places they had come to visit and experience held deep in their hearts as inseparable wives. Nothing felt better in the entire world than the touch of each other’s hand. There was love.