It’s six thirty in the morning. The morning rays of sun quietly penetrate the window glass and colour my wall into soft tinge of golden.
I roll over and see a flawless face of a man. ‘Good morning!’ you say as you slowly open your eyes and smile at your newly wedded wife.
I just smile back and look at you as I wonder how God is an absolute artist. You come closer and plant a soft kiss on my lips. ‘You are beautiful!’ you say and hold me in your arms. A flush creeps over my face and I close my eyes.
I can feel your body getting closer to mine now; the warmth of your body is encroaching on my skin. I open my eyes. You roll over and get on top of me. I lie still, try and look straight into your eyes. A gentle silver shine shades your chestnut eyes just as you curve your lips and smile at me.
You bend down and kiss my neck while your silk like hairs stroke my cheek. With one hand behind my back and the fingertips of the other gently caressing the skin on my chest, you lift your head and your eyes meet mine. You bring your hand towards my neck, slowly.
You continue sliding your hand, and from underneath my pillow, you take out a beautifully wrapped box.
‘Get up. Open it!’ you whisper. I frown as I take the box in my hand. I get up, open the gift and unravel a shiny silver metal piece.
‘It’s… its a razor blade!’ I am perplexed.
‘Yes! It’s a razor blade my darling.’ you say and your voice deepens. ‘It’s for you to cut that!’
You point your finger to a white cord that hangs down from above and is firmly tied somewhere on the floor.
I stand up and put on my silk robe. I sluggishly walk towards the string, inevitably baffled by your actions. I cut the cord and a large silver basket falls right before me with a loud thump and I jump.
The basket in covered with a red velvet cloth.
‘To my lovely wife’ a small chit attached to it reads.
I unstitch the fabric and pull it off. The basket is filled with red rose petals. I turn back wondering what this might mean.
‘Come on, put your hands in it’ you say. I put in my hands and feel a box and I lift it up.
‘Now, open it.’ You say. I open it in a slow pace, wondering what it could be.
There is a shining platinum plate. ‘Welcome home Mrs. Nash’, it reads.
END OF CHAPTER 2