Withering Daydream

By colettebernadette

82 8 0

A short story based on Taylor Swift's song, 'Wildest Dreams'. More

Copyright
Dedication
I: Meeting Him
II: Romantic Adventure
III: Him, Again?
IV: Blissful Matrimony
VI: Gala Ablaze
Afterword

V: Bohemian Togetherness

10 0 0
By colettebernadette

Dinners outside, shopping, late nights cozying about.

Late mornings too, full of breakfast and love.

I awoke, late for my body's clock.

He was not in bed.

Did he go already? I panicked.

The slim fabric on my body rustled. 

The sheets on the bed fell to the floor.

His black shirt was all that I had worn.

I ran out of my room, troubled even more.

And then, I heard the crackle of frying eggs.

My heart was relieved.

I slowly walked in the kitchen, traipsing leisurely.

My eyes wandering all over him.

"Good morning, darling. Breakfast?"

He leaned into me and had a smooch.

His upper body was naked, bare.

Apparently, I had given him some tattoos.

Light pink and purple bruises.

"Last night was fun, perhaps," I shrugged.

The eggs smelled nice.

He bent down and kissed my jaw. "That it was."

I had a bite. "New recipe?"

I looked around the kitchen, and noticed my thrifted cookbook in a corner.

He'd been using it.

"Like it?" he asked, and I gave him a bite of it.

"Perfect, just like you," he said aloud, once he was done.

"Am I not a good cook?" he and I both laughed.

My husband.

Seven months were to pass now, but I was a newlywed still.

The doorbell rang. I ran towards the door.

He didn't say he'd be here so soon...

I tied up my hair, opened the door.

"Parcel for you, ma'am," a man with cap said.

His hands had a bouquet larger than life.

"Thank you," I mumbled absent-mindedly, and took it in,

Then closed the door.

Deep red tulips, a bouquet the size of a painting.

A white card in the center.

I sat on the floor I had just mopped down, opening it up.

'I'm really sorry, darling, sweetie, wife-

I won't be able to come until late next week.

Work doesn't let me.

These tulips are a mere sorry, nothing compared to my love for you...

Until we meet again. Kisses, your loving husband.'

I was not angry. Never had been. In fact, I was worried.

He would be so tired. If only...if only, I was there for him.

I kissed the typewritten card, then kept it in a drawer.

The tulips would grace my little drawing room.

~

He was very late this time.

Too late for the month.

Too late for the night.

My stomach rumbled, for I hadn't eaten.

I heard the doorbell, rushed towards it.

It was his signature double bell. I opened the door.

"What happened?" I asked, gathering the briefcase and suitcase,

Throwing them on a seat at the door.

"The train delayed for so long, there was an accident."

"Are you okay?" I checked him all over.

"I'm fine, nothing's wrong with me," he reassured, but I wasn't pleased.

"Where's my welcome kiss?" he joked. "I don't see it around..."

And then, he pushed me against the wall, having a taste of me.

"I'm glad you're back," I whispered.

"I'm glad I'm back too," he replied.

~

I sneaked out of bed, it was late in the morn.

He was still asleep, tired, troubled.

I ruffled his hair, my effort to comfort him,

Or to comfort my own self.

In the kitchen, I heated the lasagne we forgot about last night.

I glanced at the cookbooks in a corner of the countertop.

And then, I surprised myself.

I burst into tears.

He doesn't seem well...

He looks sick, like he hasn't been taking care of himself...

It pained me so, so much!

What is going on?

I got off the little stool in the kitchen, wiping off my tears.

I heard noises from inside.

Perhaps he was awake.

~

Eleven in the morning.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked, placing a kiss on my cheek.

I was serving him breakfast.

"You looked tired, I didn't want to disturb."

"Your cheeks are puffy...were you crying?"

His tone changed, from investigatory to worrisome.

Similar to my own.

I shook my head in denial, and sat down in a chair.

He dragged that chair close to him, with me along.

I hid my pink face.

"What's bothering you?" he cooed softly.

His hand on my shoulder, then trailing down my waist.

All just so intimate.

"Take a holiday or something," I murmured.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked.

"No, no," I shook my head, "It's not that way."

"I can't you this tired and miserable. It- breaks me..."

My voice broke too.

He leaned his forehead against mine.

"Nothing to worry about, hm? Just some work problems."

I caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes.

"Fine, I'll stay as long as you want this time, okay?"

I vigorously nodded.

~

It was time for him to leave.

He'd been here, close to me, in my arms, for a whole month.

I had nursed him to health. He thought I had made him fat.

I had laughed at that.

He was to leave this afternoon, right before lunch.

I had packed for him enough to eat throughout the ride.

I had clad myself in a sweater, the weather was cold.

I helped him into a sweater too. The burgundy one from France.

"You've been very kind to me, way too kind," at breakfast he said.

"I'll miss you even more now," he added.

At least I was content, now that he was well and nourished in front of my eyes.

"There's going to be this gala, an exhibition, of jewels," I told, done with my meal.

He was having a small bite of the pancakes.

"I'd seen the poster, my former mistress had shown me last week."

"You want to go there? I won't stop you," he said, smiling at me.

He knew how I loved the rare, colored jewels.

Sapphires were my favorite. There were his favorite, that's why.

"In fact- do you need more money? I'll-"

"Oh no, that won't be needed," I said, catching hold of his hand.

"I just wished you were there with me too, but what can we do about it..."

"I'll be back soon, I promise," he comforted.

Later that morning, I waved him off at the station.

He'd only left me with love, memories, and longing.

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