“Bloody hell, It’s seven, already! How long did I sleep!”, I sit bolt upright in bed not wanting to go after the obligations that lay ahead.
A fight with him every other day has become a routine after I have quit my job. Having worked in a round the clock project in the I.T. Sector for a good five years and suddenly having to sit at home doing nothing but clean, cook, sleep and wait for him has taken its toll on me. I knew I couldn’t blame him, it was my decision to finally be with him and start a family. Was that another erratic, impulsive decision? No! It was the outcome of a year long separation from my Man in Uniform and not having any other option left to choose from. Clearly, there is no I.T. Company at the goddamn place that he has been posted to. But, did I make a mistake?
I shake off the melancholy that engulfs me and put on the bedside lamp.
The sudden flash of light makes it difficult to open my eyes. But then I notice something pretty at the other corner of the bed.
A beautiful Allen Schwartz Sea Blue flare dress with a note- “Ready at 8?”
Well, this is a first! Not sure what ran at the back of my head, but I seem to have forgotten the pensive and somber mood I was in, a couple of minutes back and was now grinning wide. Just then he entered the room and I could see that playful smirk on his face which sweeps my heart away every single time.
“Why”, I ask him picking up the dress and feeling the soft fabric on my fingers.
“Just like that”, and he walks up to me. He tugs that careless strand of hair behind my ear and coax, “At 8?”
I nod my head and flush. It is not my birthday or our anniversary. And he never takes me to a romantic restaurant other than on special occasions. And that too on a dinner date? Blimey! Not even during our courtship days. Though he is good with the chivalry, a thing like this was least expected from him. May be until now?
As I prepare for a hot bath, I notice a pamphlet on the best romantic restaurants in India.
“Gosh! He had done his homework”, I am amused at the amount of preparation that has gone into this date.
Confused and dazed, I manage to get ready. I was never comfortable wearing LBDs. But this is a perfect fit. If given a chance, I shall any day prefer to stay in my cocoon, in my comfortable pair of PJs and crocs. But not today! Putting on my pump heels, I walk up to him.
“Is that..is that a tuxedo? Where are we going?”, I am flabbergasted. Yes, he looks dashing, as if straight out of a Mills and Boon story. But I am baffled and perplexed. And all he does is smile.
He escorts me to the car and after about an hour long drive, we arrive at a beautiful restaurant which screamed romance with its champagne-toned decor and a view to die for. 36th floor rooftop bar would definitely be both classy and sexy! With a clever removable glass roof and wall panels in the dining space, it awes and should definitely pull guests all year-round.
As we walk down to our reserved seats, I notice the alluring bar counter, the deck chairs, exotic flowers and giant lawn games. Enjoying a glass of champagne and gorging on the delicious tapas, we relax. The Mediterranean menu is appealing and heightens the holiday vibes – with grilled lobster and aioli fries and a decadent raclette in winter, this night is going to be special.
I go about filling up on wood-fired meats, sizzling Merguez sausages and sweetly grilled peppers from the grill. I feel his eyes on me and I turn to him. His eyes bore into mine and we smile. Love is clearly in the air.
I knew I was getting worked up on petty issues and there are bigger things in life to actually worry about. Didn’t I always want to get married to a Man in Uniform? Ever since I have seen my Dad in his? Didn’t I know that at some point in life I would have to sacrifice my work for the sake of having a family? But, ain’t I simply lucky to have a man as loving and affectionate like him? I should count my blessings often.
Just then he gets up from the chair and move towards me.
My heart is in my mouth and for all the world, I am unable to deduce what he is up to.
Taking my hand he says, “Shalu, I want to tell you something..”
…to be continued
This is a sponsored post, but the ideas are solely mine.
This is also a fictional post and I’m linking to Blog Marathon challenge I am taking up with Blogchatter and Writer’s Wednesday at Write Tribe.