Handcuffed Bliss - Watty Awards... 2012

My marriage.....

After the hot passionate kiss, he helped me unpack in this room. "This way, you have your privacy and yet you will be staying in my room so my brat doesn't find anything weird okay?" He explained. I simply nodded and got back to work.

I had changed into my favorite pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt. It made him laugh. "You look like a child dressed like this, while in that dress, I swear you looked like a princess." I smiled and for the life of me could not come up with a sassy retort.

He took me through the house, giving me a tour, showing me which rooms were where and what not. The house was beautiful but unlived in. Apparently his housekeeper was sick, had been on leave for over a month and they did not bother looking for a new one.

When I walked into his library, I stood mesmerized by a portrait of a beautiful woman on the fireplace. She was gorgeous with brown curls and a pink skin. Dressed in an evening gown, she looked elegant. It was an old portrait, maybe like ten or fifteen years ago. I stood there, awed by her beauty till I heard a cough behind me.

"She is so beautiful, “I whispered not taking my eyes off her, “Who is this lady?" I asked. He stood beside me for a while, staring at her before saying, "She was my sister. She died shortly after this was taken." 

"I am sorry sir," I put my hand on his arm. Smiling down at me he smiled a bit before hugging me. That was so freaking unexpected, but nice in a weird way. I simply stood there awkwardly, not knowing how to react. Pulling away he smiled, “How about some dinner wifey?"

>>>>>>>>>>> 

The days passed like this; small incidents that got us closer to each other. I stayed in his room, even slept on his bed, but we did not go any further than the occasional hug or kiss. But we became good friends. We could talk non-stop, about anything and everything under the sun. 

I learnt that he fell in love in school and had their girl within a year. They had married as soon as they turned 18 and had lived a life full of love and laughter before she was taken away. Her death messed this father daughter duo. He began to spoil her mad and she soon learnt to take advantage.

He would tell me about his business, sometimes even about the progress in my family business. I told him that I had always wanted to study business, so he helped me. We would read the Wall Street Journal together and then discuss economy and the recession and why and how the banks fucked up everything.

It became a ritual. I would cook dinner while he kept me company, discussing, talking, fooling around and even joking and teasing each other. We would then sit outside on the swing in his backyard with wine and talk away, sometimes snuggle into each other or sometimes just lying in the others lap. The awkwardness of touching one another was never there, it had always felt natural, but now, it was like we wanted to, needed to touch one another.

Where my relation with him was progressing smoothly, our relation with his daughter was going downhill by the day. She hated me with a passion, well I too felt the same but she was now insulting her dad, hurting him with her poisonous arrows and seeing my husband thrashed verbally by his own little girl hurt. I tried to make amends, to calm him before he said something he did not like, to calm her, to be friends, but it never worked.

Finally, my holidays were over and it was the beginning of a new term, the first day of school. It was our last year too and I was dreading it. I had tossed and turned the whole night irritating him, who finally, in exasperation tucked me under him and slept so I couldn't move around. It felt nice and warm, safe too in a way. But morning came too soon and here I was, downstairs, making breakfast.