A young boy, no older than ten, approached their table, carrying a tray laden with small, round disks of bread and a shallow bowl of what looked like stewed brown beans. Eden’s eyebrows rose.
“This, my lady, isful medames,” Max explained, gesturing to the bowl. “Stewed fava beans, seasoned with cumin, lemon, and olive oil. Usually served with plenty of fresh bread.” He tore off a piece of the warm, pillowy bread and dipped it into the rich, aromatic beans.
Eden eyed it with a mixture of apprehension and fascination. “How utterly exotic.” She tentatively broke off a piece of bread, mimicking his movement. She scooped a small amount of thefulonto it and brought it to her lips.
Max watched her, a quiet amusement building in his chest. She was probably going to hate it.
Instead, her eyes widened. A slow smile spread across her face. “Max,” she breathed, “this is... astonishing. The spices, the creaminess. It’s absolutely delightful!” She took another, more confident bite. “I’ve never tasted anything quite like it.”
He felt a genuine smile break through his own carefully constructed composure. “I told you. There’s more to Egypt than just dust and ancient kings.”
She dabbed her lips delicately with a napkin. “Indeed. My world, it seems, has been far too small.” Her gaze, soft and contemplative, met his. The noisy street faded into a blur. “To think of all the flavors I’ve missed.”
“Well, all is not lost. You have a lifetime of discovery ahead,” he said, his voice a little gruffer than he intended.
She nodded, her eyes still on his. “A lifetime of discovery,” she repeated, her gaze lingering for a moment longer before she turned back to the bowl, scooping up another spoonful of thehumble, exotic dish. For a moment, the labyrinth and all the complexities of their mission faded, leaving only the vibrant city and the shared pleasure of a simple, unexpected meal.
As they ate, the conversation shifted to all the things that remained to be done before they headed out to the desert. Yet the past lingered, a persistent shadow that he couldn’t ignore.
Finally, Eden looked at him with a frankness that caught him off guard. “It’s been a long time since we’ve shared a meal like this. Too long.”
He met her gaze, a mix of emotions passing across his features. “I’ve missed it,” he confessed, the simple words carrying years of unspoken regret.
“Have you?” Her voice softened, a genuine warmth replacing her usual polish.
“Of course,” he murmured, cursing himself even as he said it. So much for his vow of keeping things professional. What was it about this woman that made him break every rule he had?
Eden reached across the table, her hand resting near his. “Max, when this trip is done, where will you go?”
He looked at her hand, his throat tight. He knew what she was really asking:Will you stay?He saw the vulnerability and the hope in her eyes, but all he could remember was the cold finality of her rejection on the ship. The last thing he could afford was for her to turn away from him again.
He squeezed her hand, then pulled his own back, anchoring himself against the tide of feeling. “I don’t know,” he told her honestly, the words coming out harder than he intended. “I’ll probably look for another job.”
Her face fell a bit, and she pulled her hand back. A heavy silence fell between them. Max traced the rim of his empty tea glass, feeling like an arse for ruining the evening. He needed to anchor them both back in the noise, the spice, and thetangible present as the waiter brought them more food. No sense lingering on the past.
“This,” he said, a soft smile touching his lips as he pushed his spoon into the thick, emerald contents of his bowl and raised it slightly. “Eden, this improbable, luminous sludge—it’s calledMolokhia—is wonderful.” He let the stew's savory, slightly slick texture coat his tongue, savoring its richness. “It’s sweet and earthy, like liquid velvet, and then the shocking, vital hit of the garlic and coriander arrives. You’ve got to try it.”
Obviously glad for the change of subject, she smiled and reached across the table, taking a bit of it on her spoon. She frowned. “It looks like something that demands a great deal of trust,” she said with a laugh. She put it in her mouth, her eyes lighting up. “It’s strange, but I love it. Oh, Max! I love trying new things.”
Max laughed. “I like watching you as you do.” He nodded to the skewer of the charred, spiced lamb on her plate. “You’ll never want to go back to eating English food once you’ve tried all that Egypt has to offer, though I must admit we won’t be eating like this once we venture out into the desert.”
She shrugged and took another bite. “Well, we’ll just have to enjoy it while we can, then.”
And as he went back to his own meal, he promised himself he’d do that not only with the delicious food but with the time he was able to spend with her. Worrying about the future was pointless. For once, he needed to try to live in the here and now.
