We Were Never Inlove

Nikky my story is quite long please share it okay, thank you.

As a young lady, I had this dream of falling inlove with a friend and settling down with him. That was my heart's desire until my parents shared their grand plan with me.

I was introduced to my husband's family a month before our wedding. My father's new friend and business partner had approached him to discuss their future prospects. Without any objection, my father consented to the idea of uniting the two families and a date was fixed for the wedding of their only children. When I was informed, I went mad with rage and refused to marry a stranger. However, with my mum crying every day due to my refusal, I finally consented to marry a man I never loved.

When my would be husband returned to the country, we met for the first time at our family house. We sat across from each other for long minutes without uttering a word. He looked calm and young. Probably few years older than I but I didn't have any feelings for him and was too disillusioned to say a word.

On the 14th of February that year, we got married. It felt like being in a trance. I hated the crowd, hated my parents but I sat through it all with a smile plastered on my face. My husband refused to smile while our parents had a ball. When the guests had all gone, we were too worn out and angry at each other to think of consummating our union that night. The next day, we were still not interested and decided to cancel the honeymoon.

I unceremoniously moved in with him. It was a big house so I got a wing of the house all to myself and this made it easy for us to stay away from each other Whenever our paths crossed during the mandatory Sunday meals  we had to share together he would smile and greet me like a sister. We were living like housemates who respected each others boundaries. 

Two months after I moved in, his mother visited and we had to pretend to be a happy couple. Eventually she noticed the distance and a lecture followed. Since I was obligated to sit through it, I just sat next to my husband and as before pretended to be paying attention to her words about the importance of having a baby. Truthfully, I really didn't care about what she had to say.

After she left, I noticed changes in my husband. Instead of the usual cold greetings whenever I saw him, he started asking after my night and health condition. One morning, I was surprised when the house help served my breakfast with a flower and a short note; I preferred eating breakfast alone in my room. I love flowers and the red rose made my day. It was the first time I was seeing a real rose flower. It became consistent and eventually I got used to the breakfast and gifts. I even found myself looking forward to them.

Several weeks after Mama left, one night my husband invited me to the living room. He had something very important to discuss with me. I joined him. The maid served an expensive bottle of wine and disappeared. The atmosphere felt like being at an official meeting. He had on a straight face while he talked about living up to expectations and doing what is necessary inorder to please the family. After the talk, he asked for my opinion. I had none. To be sincere, I was bored to my marrow and he must have sensed it because he abruptly  stood up and uncorked the bottle of wine.

We shared a drink. He insisted I stayed up with him so I unwillingly obliged. We sat on separate couches, staring absently at the movie showing on the television. Since I liked the wine, I went for more and so did he. After several gulps of the wine, we became talkative. I can remember moving over to show him funny clips on my phone and before we knew what was happening he became my paparazzi. He got and popped more bottles. We took several pictures together, giggling. When he doubted my dancing skills, I jumped at the idea of a competition. I have always been a coded in-my-room dancer so that night with the alcohol flowing in my bloodstream, I threw caution to the wind. We both danced into the night.

I don't know how it happened but the next morning I woke up in his bed wearing his caftan. He was gone and I was too tired to move a limb. My breakfast arrived with my flower and an intensely passionate note. It turned out that I never moved back to my room after that night.

It's been seven blissful years with my husband and we have been blessed with two children. In as much as we never loved each other before saying the vows, I cannot think of anyone else I would rather be with.

(Pic credit; drjanethope.com)

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