Playing House

Her wedding was the stuff fairy tales are made of. Very fancy shmancy. It was at a dream destination with the guest list carefully chosen, none of those random people who just show up last minute. It had the who’s who in the entertainment industry. Two white swans floated in the pond like delicate rose petals, the man -made water fall flowed into an abyss of clear water below creating a beautiful bubble ripple. In the background the band could be heard playing soft Jazz. Don’t get me started on the food, some of it I had only ever seen on telly. Ginger short ribs , artichoke dip, rhubarb risotto as well as some of the more familiar dishes. But I didn’t dare touch the ‘normal’ food, after all, it’s not everyday you see risotto on a menu. I certainly don’t.
My date and I were definitely in awe when a popular politician came in. Security guards and all in tow. He went ahead and plopped himself in the front row so that we could all feast our eyes at his presence. The nerve! I muttered under my breathe, as I prayed that he wouldn’t give a speech since we all know how that goes. Endless yapping on nothing in particular. Lucky for me, he didn’t. After the usual dry jokes by the MC, the bride and groom finally arrived amidst song and dance from the guests. But that too wasn’t the usual tribal based songs. No sir! A popular band went and ‘received’ the newly wed couple, which confused the old ladies who had already gathered, then afterwards the normal ring around singing was done before the long winding speeches by both sides of the family.
Fast forward a year later and things normalize for the couple. They go back to work, get busy with life and are trying to start a family. One day while we are out for lunch, a young handsome man spots her and like a possessed little demon, stares at her throughout lunch. Even when we leave the restaurant, as if being pulled by some unknown force, he follows us, but his eye is firmly on her. The rest of us could be chopped liver for all he cares.
She stops, not wanting to cause any commotion, flashes her ring finger and asks him why he is following us. He doesn’t even skip a beat as he pours out his heart. Saying how he had never been so enchanted by anyone before. How even despite the obvious sign that she was married, just couldn’t help himself at being in awe of her. The rest of us rolled our eyes at his obvious buffoonery with one of the girls exclaiming that he was just out for easy no strings attached fixins. I mean why couldn’t he express that to any of the other ladies, none of whom had a ring on their fingers.
They say that the first year of marriage is the hardest, I wouldn’t know. But I can imagine how strange it can be, from being used to having your own space to having another person there , where before one was used to having to do whatever they want to now consulting another person and basically learning to share everything.
I digress, so after the ‘ terrible one’, heard that’s what the first year of marriage is called. The newly wed wife is now getting more and more agitated by the husband’s every action. Even just clipping his nails irritates her, she starts noticing the loud slurping noise he makes when drinking anything, his loud chewing is like a little knife stabbing her back with every bite he takes. I mean a cow is more courteous according to her. The constant attention he used to give her begins to wear off and he comes home late night after night, leaving for work early in the morning. They are now virtual strangers, like ships passing each other in the night. And that’s where she starts really thinking about the stranger who literally ran after her. And showered her with so much praise. She has missed the attention and the look of undeniable attraction that always made her heart flutter. She removes his business card, apparently he snuck it in her purse while the rest of us were busy rolling our eyes at him.
She’s shy and doesn’t want to come off as desperate so she sends him a quick hello message without much else. She figures that if he isn’t the type to hit on anything with a skirt then he should know who it is without much description. This test is to know if he’s just another skirt chaser. He replies almost immediately with a ‘Hey gorgeous, thought I would never hear from you after you walked off in such a huff.’ He has passed the test. The messages continue. They now talk everyday and after about two weeks of back and forth phone flirting they decide to meet for diner. The sexual chemistry between them is so strong you could cut it with a knife.
But she controls herself. She heads home and doesn’t give him more than a handshake when they part. But the coming days are the hardest on her. He is all she thinks about. His bulging muscles, luscious lips. She wonders how it would feel to be with him for just one night. But she’s married. She focuses her energy on her husband. But the feeling doesn’t go away. She is now toying with the idea and is convinced that if she gives in to her desires just one time, she’ll be able to forget him.
They meet for a second time, this time in a less formal setup. It’s a dimly lit club. The conversation flows easily and they are more comfortable around each other. After downing a few cocktails, she’s less tense but a bit tipsy and it shows. He takes this opportunity and reaches for a kiss. And before she knows it, they are at his place and the rest as they say is history.
The fact that she thought it would be a one-off leaves her as they now meet regularly for their sexcapades. It helps her, she convinces herself. The hubby’s nail cutting becomes less irritating, his slurping is no longer noticeable. She is in a good mood constantly. The new ‘catch’ doesn’t mind that she is married as long as he gets to see her as often as he likes. The husband notices that she’s happier and less catty this makes him happy. They are all happy, one big happy family. Odd, but happy. Playing House!