It ticks nine at night. A few weeks since Jerol regained his sanity. And exactly two weeks before our contract expires. Before our time together is up.
Time sucks! Really sucks!
You might be wondering what has been happening for those weeks since he regained his sanity. Well, you know some - you know, like, those two times we made love? Well, guess what, that wasn't all.
Making love has become our ritual ever since then. Sex has become our daily desire, a dose that we can't do without. The urge has swelled up so intensely, and the passion has become insatiable. This bedroom, and this bed can attest to the memories we have created in the last couple of days - memories that are beginning to haunt me now.
In two weeks, we are supposed, yes, supposed to say goodbye to all that we have done together. To all that we have become. To everything that holds us together.
I am gladdened, totally in glee that he is finally the man that everyone knew before that tragedy that wrecked his sanity happened. His company has risen again and it's now the talk of the nation once again with the positive vibes. He is back to the Jerol O'Brian McCall that his parents were so proud of.
Everything is just in place, except my heart. It's in shambles. It's bleeding. I don't even want to visualize that day we will stand in front of each other saying goodbye. How will I even look at him, huh? How will I live after that? Will all the memories I have built with him be enough to let me get by the days? No. They are no doubt beautiful, but not enough. Him only, is enough. I love him, so much more than I thought I would ever love someone. It's him I want, and no one else.
I have tried asking him about us countless times. What we are? Where we are heading to....but all he says is that I am his wife, and he forbade me from talking about that contract ever. But it had been registered in my mind from day one that after five months, I will cease being Mrs McCall, I will leave his side, and turn my back on this whole place, and him too. Now that's something I can't scour out of my brain. I don't know how he does it, but I just can't.
A slight knock on the door echoes, and I howl faintly to the one on the door to come in.
These are the times that I really miss Jerol terribly. Staying all alone is something I hate. I should have gone to him to the office. He never minds. Actually, he says that those are his best days in the office.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" I turn to the familiar voice of Terry.
"Yes, Terry?" I respond, catching a glimpse of the small bag in her hands.
"The chauffeur is asking that you get ready and wear this, ma'am! It's sir Jerol's orders, ma'am!" She explains with a smile on her face, while I am stunned.
I get up, and shuffle my legs to where she is, taking the gift hamper from her and peeking inside.
Throughout this term, we have managed to keep the secret that binds us together with Jerol a top secret. Nobody has ever been able to deduce anything, well, except for his gross mother whom I would give the world to know what she thinks of this garbage, as she called me. From that night I was in her house, that night she challenged me, we have never met or spoken. I hope she knows I won, in case I don't get a chance to rub into her face.
"I prepared some chicken soup for you. You haven't eaten anything since morning and if sir Jerol finds out we are done for." Terry says, summoning my gaze to her.
Aah, that. I'm just not in the mood for food. Besides, my husband is taking me out so I don't want to ruin my stomach with anything for now.
"Thank you, Terry, but... it's okay. I'll eat it some other time. Besides, my husband might be waiting for me somewhere. I don't want to keep him waiting." I chirp, giggling a little.
"Well, okay ma'am. I understand. You are so lucky to have a husband like Sir Jerol. I know I have told you this a thousand times but I will still say it again ma'am. You two are my role models."
Well, she always tells me that every chance she gets. If only she knew... If only.
"Mmh. Thanks, Terry. I'll freshen up now. Inform the chauffeur that I will be down in twenty." I say, turning with ecstasy to get ready for my husband.
"Okay. Have a beautiful dinner, ma'am." She says, and I giggle a bubbly "thank you" as she turns to leave.
An hour later!
"Here we are, Mrs McCall! Your husband is waiting inside." The chauffeur says after getting the door for me.
I was so engrossed trying to call and text Jerol all the entire drive through that I didn't even heed where we were driving to. He decided to go mute on me on the worst day ever. Not even a single response to my almost ten messages and countless calls. My brain is scattered. And now as I tour my eyes around, I'm in awe. Where in heaven is this beautiful place?
I imprint my heels on the brown marble floor, my white dress gown sweeping the floor behind me as I step from the car. My outfit matches up with the outside decor of the house standing before me. I clutch my small black purse, sampling in the fresh and peaceful screaming aura.
"I'll leave now. Enjoy ma'am! You two deserve some steam after everything." The chauffeur says as he gets into the car.
What steam!? We have been having to have the steam for the longest time now. But all the same, I click my heels on the floor, and march towards the door of this mansion before me.
Standing at the door, I knock slightly, and I was meaning to tour my anxiety around the breathtaking green garden once more but the door opened too sooner. I crane my neck inside scanning for the sight of Jerol but to no fruits. All in all, I stroll inside, and the door shuts on its own.
White-themed house - All white. Peace! The furniture, the painting, the ceiling, and everything. And me too!
What's the occasion?
And where is he?
There is no sight of him anywhere. I hurl my pulse on the leather setter, wondering whether to start climbing up the stairs to look for him upstairs or just slam on the settee and wait for him to show up.
Just when I was about to sigh out my frustrations, he clears his throat behind me, making me spin around.
He is dressed in matching clothes like mine. We look like a real-life couple. A serial couple. A beautiful one. He always dazzles in anything he wears, but this colour gives him a more intense look.
"You look gorgeous. I wanted to stare at you for a while." He speaks.
Blush! Blush!
Looking past him to hide the blush, I realize a stairway just at the right corner of this sitting room that I hadn't noticed. He must have come from there.
"Thank you." I say, dragging my gaze to him. "And you look more handsome than ever." I say.
"Really now? And I haven't even earned a kiss yet?" He cocks his face, faking a puppy face, and I giggle.
"Is my husband whining now?" I ask, stretching my hands to his chest.
"Your husband just misses you, Mrs McCall." He whispers, and I reach for his lips, kissing him gently as he kisses me back with equal passion.
I finally pull away, licking my lower lip slightly.
"Is that okay now?" I tease.
"It'll do. For now." He responds, finishing with a wink.
"Mmh. So, what's the occasion, Mr O'Brian McCall?" I ask, peeking into his beautiful eyes.
He smirks after eying me for a while as if there is something I am missing. Well, I'm sure there isn't. Is there?
No! No!
"What?" I implore, and his smirk widens, revealing his long shiny teeth.
Well, he is happier than I have ever seen him, and I am happy about that, but why is he making me feel somehow oblivious about something?
"Close your eyes." He says, and I raise an eyebrow. He nods his head, pleading, and I obey. I shut my eyes, and the next I know, he is scooping me bridal style in his arms, and he starts walking.
This reminds me of the day he divulged his real identity to me. That day in his study, he ended up carrying me like this back to our room because I was limping. But today I am not, yet he took the trouble.
After about a minute or so, he gently settles me down, and spins me around, and he stands behind me, his hands draping around my shoulders.
"Open your eyes, love." He whispers to my ears, and I peel my eyes slowly to be greeted by a well-set table for two.
A black forest cake sits on the table. A white bouquet of roses. A bottle of champagne and two glasses.
I turn in the opposite direction. To him.
"Happy Birthday to the most beautiful angel in the world. Happy Birthday, Tessa Angeline!" He says, taking my breath away.
For the first time, he addressed me by my name. Without the borrowed sir name. That aside. It was my birthday, and like always, it wasn't even in my mind. I don't give a crap about birthdays. But he remembered? Hold on...
"How did...how did you...?"
"How did I know? You have been my wife for five months. I know everything there is to know about you, Tessa." He responds.
I keep quiet for a decade, just staring at him, wondering what a beauty he is.
"What? Don't you like the..."
I reach for his lips, claiming them, and chewing them to my satisfaction - our satisfaction, because even if I caught him off-guard, he relished the kiss just like I did.
"Thank you so much, hubby." I whimper when we pull away, resting my forehead on his.
"It's nothing, love, but you are most welcome. Now, I want to see you cut the cake. I'm hungry." He says, pulling me to the cake.
"Well, would you believe it?" I mumble. "I'm celebrating my first birthday ever with you." I state.
"You don't celebrate birthdays?" He queries.
"No. This is my first in my twenty years." I say.
"Well, then." He cups my cheeks, stroking them as he speaks. "Two things." He says, looking deep into my eyes.
"What?" I implore.
"We make this day super special and memorable. And two, from now on, always do this on your birthdays. Always." He says.
"Oookay." I respond.
"So, the cake, or us first?" He queries, confusing me.
"Huh?"
"Do you want the cake, or me first? Which one do you crave the most." He asks, and my brain goes haywire.
Ahem!
"Ummh..."