Airport Garden
Chapter 15 – Airport Garden
They didn’t find a riverwalk.
Not really.
Because Crystal saw a sign that said garden and immediately decided that was destiny.
“Garden,” she declared, eyes shining. “In winter. This is poetic. We must go.”
Ivan stared at her. “We have a flight.”
Crystal waved him off. “Exactly. Garden before flight. Closure arc.”
Belle stood behind them, hands tucked into her coat pockets, scarf pulled up to her cheeks.
Her breath came out in a pale cloud.
She felt… strange.
Not sad.
Not happy.
Suspended.
Since Aleem texted her the night before–Can we talk tomorrow? Just the two of us. Somewhere quiet.–her heart had been beating like it didn’t trust her body to stay calm.
This wasn’t like the café confession.
That had been her jumping.
This was her waiting to see if someone would catch her.
They were at New Chitose Airport now, checking in early because Ivan refused to risk anything.
Crystal complained about the queue.
Ivan ignored her.
Aleem stood a little apart, phone in hand, silent.
Belle watched him.
He had said he would bring hand warmers.
He did.
He had slipped them into her palm earlier without making it a moment.
A small mercy.
Now Crystal had dragged them all toward the airport’s indoor garden area, talking about “aesthetic shots” and “last day vibes.”
Ivan muttered, “This is not a drama set.”
Crystal grinned. “Life is drama if you are main character.”
Belle’s mouth twitched.
Then her gaze drifted to Aleem.
He wasn’t laughing.
But he didn’t look annoyed.
He just followed.
Steady.
Proper.
And Belle’s stomach tightened again.
Because she didn’t know what he was going to say.
The airport garden was warmer than the terminal.
Not tropical.
Just… alive.
Plants arranged neatly.
A small stream feature.
Wooden benches.
The air smelled faintly of damp earth.
It was quiet compared to the bustling gates.
Crystal gasped like she had walked into a sacred temple.
“Wah. This is healing corner.”
Ivan looked around, expression neutral but secretly impressed. “Okay. Five minutes.”
Crystal rolled her eyes. “Ivan, your romance is dead.”
Ivan replied, “My romance is on battery saver.”
Crystal snorted.
Belle sat down on a bench, hands clasped loosely.
Her fingers felt warm now from the hand warmers.
Her chest felt… tight.
Crystal immediately pulled out her phone. “Okay! Photos!”
Ivan groaned. “Again?”
Crystal grabbed Ivan’s sleeve. “Come. This time, you smile.”
Ivan stared. “No.”
Crystal grinned. “Then I will Photoshop.”
Ivan sighed like a man defeated by fate.
They walked away toward the plants.
Crystal’s voice carried, of course.
“Stand here! No, turn! Wow, your face is like funeral again!”
Ivan muttered, “Stop saying funeral.”
Crystal laughed.
Their banter faded slightly as they moved deeper into the garden.
Belle remained on the bench.
She could hear the water feature, soft trickling.
She could hear her own breathing.
And then Aleem sat down beside her.
Not too close.
Enough space.
Proper.
Belle’s heart jumped.
She didn’t turn immediately.
She stared ahead at the plants.
The air felt warmer here, but her palms were damp.
Aleem’s voice came quietly.
“Hey.”
Belle swallowed. “Hey.”
A pause.
The kind of pause that held a conversation hostage.
Belle’s throat tightened.
She whispered, “Is this… the talk?”
Aleem exhaled softly.
“Yeah,” he said. “If it’s okay.”
Permission.
Even now.
Belle nodded. “Okay.”
Okay.
A rope.
Aleem’s gaze lowered briefly.
When he looked up, his eyes were calm–but there was a weight in them.
Not hesitation.
Care.
He said, softly, “Thank you for giving me time.”
Belle’s chest tightened. “I didn’t have a choice. I already… jumped.”
Aleem’s lips pressed together, faint amusement flickering. “You did.”
Belle’s cheeks warmed.
Then the amusement faded and the seriousness returned.
Aleem’s voice softened. “Belle… I’ve been thinking a lot. And I talked to someone I trust.”
Belle’s heart beat faster.
“About… us?” she whispered.
Aleem nodded once. “About what it means. If we do this.”
Belle inhaled slowly.
Her chest tightened.
Aleem continued, choosing words carefully. “I need to be honest with you. Not just about feelings.”
Belle nodded quickly. “Okay.”
Aleem’s gaze stayed steady. “I like you.”
The sentence landed so softly Belle almost didn’t believe she heard it.
Her breath hitched.
Her eyes burned instantly.
Aleem didn’t rush.
He didn’t follow it with a flourish.
He just let it exist.
Then he added, quietly, “I like you more than I expected.”
Belle’s throat tightened.
Her hands trembled.
She pressed them together in her lap.
Aleem’s voice remained calm, but the sincerity was unmistakable.
“And I want to do this… properly. Not casually. Not as a rebound. Not as something that just feels good in the moment.”
Belle swallowed.
Her chest tightened with relief and fear at the same time.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Aleem nodded once.
Then his voice shifted slightly–gentler, but firmer.
“But there’s something I can’t pretend isn’t there,” he said.
Belle’s stomach dropped.
Religion.
She already knew.
But knowing and hearing were different.
Aleem said it anyway.
“My faith is… not a small part of my life. It shapes everything.”
Belle nodded, throat tight. “I know.”
Aleem continued, carefully, “If we’re together, it won’t just be about you and me. There will be family. There will be community. There will… eventually be questions about marriage. Children. How we live.”
Belle’s eyes burned.
The realism wasn’t cruel.
It was respectful.
Clarity is mercy.
Aleem looked at Belle, voice low. “I don’t want to pressure you. I will never ask you to change your faith for me just to keep me.”
Belle’s throat tightened.
He said it like a vow.
Aleem continued, “But I also can’t lie. If I marry, it has to be in a way that aligns with my deen.”
Belle’s breath hitched.
Deen.
The word sounded heavy.
Not scary.
Just… structured.
Aleem’s gaze softened. “So… if you want to explore Islam, it has to be because you want to understand. Not because you think it’s a price.”
Belle stared at him.
Her chest felt like it was splitting.
Because she heard two things at once:
I like you.
This is serious.
And serious meant risk.
Belle swallowed hard.
She whispered, “Are you… saying you can’t be with me unless I convert?”
The question came out like a wound.
Aleem’s expression tightened.
Not anger.
Pain.
He shook his head slowly. “I’m saying… I can’t make promises that aren’t real. I can’t build a future on pretending this part won’t matter.”
Belle’s eyes burned.
Aleem continued, softly, “Right now, I’m not asking you to convert. I’m asking you to be honest with yourself about what you’re willing to learn, and what you’re willing to face with me.”
Belle’s throat tightened.
She stared at her hands.
Snow outside.
Warm garden inside.
Two worlds.
Like their lives.
Belle whispered, “I don’t know anything about Islam.”
Aleem nodded. “That’s okay. No one starts knowing. If you want, I can help you find someone–an asatizah, an ustazah, someone you can ask questions without it being about me.”
Belle looked up.
Her eyes burned.
He was building a path that didn’t trap her.
That was… so Aleem.
Proper.
Belle swallowed.
“And if I learn,” she whispered, voice trembling, “and I still don’t feel like it’s mine?”
Aleem’s jaw tightened.
He held her gaze.
Then he said, quietly, honestly, “Then we’ll have to face that with respect.”
Not ultimatum.
Not threat.
Truth.
Belle’s chest tightened.
Tears slipped down her cheek.
She wiped them quickly, embarrassed.
Aleem didn’t flinch.
He didn’t reach out.
He stayed still, giving her space to feel without being touched.
Belle’s voice cracked. “You’re… very serious.”
Aleem’s mouth twitched faintly. “Yeah.”
Belle let out a shaky laugh through tears. “I know. I always knew.”
Aleem’s gaze softened.
Then he said, quietly, “But I also… want you.”
Belle’s breath hitched.
The sentence was softer than “I like you.”
More raw.
More human.
Belle’s chest tightened.
She stared at him.
His eyes were steady.
His posture controlled.
But the honesty in his voice made him feel suddenly close.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Belle whispered, “I don’t want to lose my family.”
Aleem nodded slowly. “I know.”
Belle’s voice trembled. “My parents… they’re already scared. They keep saying don’t disappear from them. If I step into your world and… they feel like they’re losing me…”
Her throat closed.
Aleem’s gaze softened deeply.
“I won’t let you isolate,” he said quietly. “Not from them. Not from anyone. If we do this, it has to be… integration. Not replacement.”
Integration.
The word settled in Belle’s chest like a small light.
Aleem continued, “I respect your parents. I know what they’ve been doing. Showing up. Setting boundaries. It’s love.”
Belle’s eyes burned again.
He noticed.
He respected.
He wasn’t trying to erase.
Belle swallowed.
She took a breath.
Then she said the only honest thing.
“I want to understand,” she whispered.
Aleem held her gaze.
Belle continued, voice trembling but clear, “Not because I want to earn you. But because… when I watched you in Sapporo… you looked calm in a way I don’t understand. And it made me feel calm too.”
Her cheeks warmed.
It sounded stupid.
But it was real.
Belle’s voice softened. “I don’t know if that means anything. But I want to learn. Sincerely.”
Aleem’s throat moved.
He swallowed.
His eyes softened in a way Belle had never seen before–like something inside him had unclenched.
He nodded once.
“Okay,” he whispered.
Okay.
Permission.
Not pressure.
A bridge.
Aleem added, carefully, “We take it slow. No rushing. No pretending.”
Belle nodded quickly, tears still on her cheeks. “Okay.”
Aleem’s voice lowered further. “And… if you ever feel like you’re doing it for me, you tell me. Immediately.”
Belle nodded. “I will.”
Aleem exhaled.
Then, finally, he let the gentleness show.
“So… can we try?” he asked softly. “Not as a secret. Not as drama. Just… us. With adab.”
Belle’s heart hammered.
Try.
Us.
With adab.
Belle’s mouth trembled.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Aleem nodded once.
His gaze stayed on her.
He didn’t reach across the bench.
He didn’t take her hand.
Proper.
But his voice softened when he said, “Okay.”
Belle let out a shaky breath.
The air in her chest felt lighter.
Not because the road was easy.
Because the road was real.
Crystal’s voice suddenly cut through the garden.
“HELLOOOO!”
Belle flinched.
Ivan appeared behind Crystal, holding a cake box like he was carrying evidence.
Crystal’s eyes glittered as she approached.
“Wah,” she said, drawing the word out. “You two sat here very long. Very quiet. Very suspicious.”
Ivan muttered, “Crystal, don’t.”
Crystal grinned. “I’m not doing anything. I’m just… observing.”
Belle’s cheeks burned.
Aleem’s expression remained calm.
Proper.
He stood up first and stepped slightly aside, giving Belle space to stand without feeling crowded.
Crystal plopped down on the bench immediately, shoving the cake box toward Belle.
“Cheesecake,” Crystal declared. “For healing. And for… whatever this is.”
Ivan glared. “Crystal.”
Crystal held up her hands. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
Belle laughed, shaky.
It was small.
But real.
Ivan looked at Belle, then at Aleem.
His eyes narrowed slightly–not suspicion, just analysis.
Then he looked away, as if he had filed the information for later.
“Boarding in two hours,” Ivan said. “We should move.”
Crystal sighed dramatically. “Okay fine. Last photo then go.”
Ivan groaned.
Aleem glanced at Belle.
Just a brief look.
A quiet check.
Belle nodded.
Okay.
They walked out of the garden together.
Back into the terminal.
Back into the noise.
But Belle’s chest carried something new.
Not certainty.
Not fantasy.
A commitment to try.
Properly.
As they approached the gates, Belle’s phone buzzed.
Her father.
Reached airport?
Belle’s throat tightened.
She typed back:
Yes. Okay.
Her father replied quickly.
Okay.
Two okays.
Two bridges.
Belle slipped her phone away and glanced at Aleem.
He was walking with the same steady pace.
But now, in the middle of airport chaos, Belle realised something.
This wasn’t just a confession story.
It was a negotiation between worlds.
And for the first time, she didn’t feel like she had to choose one world and abandon the other.
Because the man beside her wasn’t pulling.
He was walking.
Proper.
Slow.
With mercy.
And as they queued for boarding, Belle felt the smallest, quietest shift in her chest.
Hope.
Not loud.
Not guaranteed.
Just… present.
Like a hand warmer in winter.