It Leads to Your Heart. [NOT EDITED]

27

Swallowing hard, my throat walls seem to be stuck together. Dry with anticipation and butterflies. Jumbles of nerves are taking over every part of me as I look at myself as I let my hair down in front of the bathroom vanity. My body, my mind is all hyper aware of what might come next, once I step out of the bathroom into the room. His room. A room that I would share with my husband for the very first time since we got married.

Looking at the simple silk pajamas, I exhale remembering the mess my mind went through as I stared at my carry carrier bag, I packed not many hours ago. I made a mistake. I dumped in whatever I thought would be comfortable and elegant enough to wear through the day, but slipped that fact that for the occasion and circumstances. I should have guessed; it would be obvious that the day was leading to a night were it would be expected of me to share a room with my husband. Of course, who am I kidding? What normal newly wedded couple ever seen sleeping apart.

That bitter taste slinked up on me again and I squint my eyes shut. No! I am not going to allow myself to dwell on it again. for the past nights, each and every night, I waited. Laying on the huge bed at night, my eyes towards the door and ears alert to a sound. To see none of him, and hear nothing of another soul living in this house. And dare I say disappointment drilled a hole inside of me with each sunrise feeling loner than ever.

It was not for the fact that he chose to not acknowledge me enough as a person. No, it was the fact that by each encounter, he made sure to subtly show how of a bothersome and uninterested he really was of my presence and simple trials in anything. Simply, very politely shutting me out. And that felt worse than a slap on the face. I might have been a fool but in my defense, I am only like any other woman. A woman that wanted to meet the right gentleman, fall in love, live a happy marriage and build a family. Even if the sequence did stagger, no woman would wish a silent marriage upon herself. And I dared hoped, that if I tried enough things could change. He would loosen up, maybe get to know me and maybe give this marriage a chance. Even if circumstances did force it, I was willing to try. Every chance I got, I used it.

But the man was one I have never meet alike before. It was like he lives inside his head, too silent, too un-present and very distant. And all that he seems to ever do is work. The focal point of what his life revolves around of, work. If I ever hear his voice bounce through the big house faintly, it would be all calls related to some work. And some other times, the third floor would announce some wired noises like drilling, lots of clicks and nicks and sometimes hammering.

He did warn me once to refrain from going in there for my own safety. At first, I got very intrigued trying understand what he meant. But as days went by with him cooped up in there with those weird noises now and then traveling from upstairs. The big nose in me decided one time to travel up to tell him that dinner was ready. Even though I partially knew that he would refuse.

And all I witnessed was what a normal looking barely empty large room would look like. Nothing special, a deserted living space with some doors to each side. I was not sure which door to knock at one point but that instantly forgotten once one of the doors slid almost robotically open to revel him standing on the other end already looking at me. "You needed something?" his words did surprise me. I never wanted to be in such situation and for a second I loathed my action. What was I thinking? Being caught snooping was bad, but it is worse to happen by the very husband that seems to chary towards you. But damn him, yet again, very politely, very softly he asks in his deep velvety very masculine voice rather than accusing me.

Yes, and that did not help. Embarrassment colored me deep which he seems to notice and take in account how flustered I turned to be. But he did not know that happened for more than one reason though. I wasn't blind, and whenever my eyes landed on him, something in me did flush within. And by days, I have finally concluded, that me be one of the most handsome man I have ever seen. And that was not purely physical too. That man was much more than that. It was much, much more than that.

It was how he handles himself, how he stands with proudness, how he walks with exuding masculine elegant power, how his eyes pierce and glimmer their steely color in fierce sharpness and superiority. Very calculating and very focused. And his voice, the cause of my current stuttering at that moment, does something, does a lot of things. I am not sure what much it leaves me very much allured and aware of every word like an idiot.

"D-ddinner is ready." I manage to stutter out for it to listen to it echo back through the empty space. How embarrassing.

A faint tug of his smooth plush lips enhanced his face, and warmed something within me. he simply nodded. "Thank you. However, I have a call conference to attend to in ten minutes." I blinked a couple of times before I nodded, understanding. And too shocked hearing his voice again, talking to me.

"A-alright then, I will leave you to it. I will make sure to leave a plate for you." Lips tugged up further, a flash of something swashed through his eyes before he nodded almost looking away immediately.

Not knowing what to do exactly at that moment, rooted to the spot while dumpily staring at him as he moves to one door and seconds later returning back out completely dismissing me.

I left, and as usual for most times, I had the meal all alone. Tiding the kitchen, washing every single utensil rather than shoving them into the washing machine, and when all was pristine and done, after an hour of no sign of him. I fixed him a plate and left it in the microwave as usual before going up to my room and to an empty bed.

"You will one day become a wife; you will have duties girl. It is crucial to understand that a Balan wife is expected to be regal, undefeatable outside but a willing and a compliant woman behind doors and certainly between sheets. Do not ever deny your husband's rights, you don't want him picking garbage outside. Just let him have his fix."

Well, the husband is anything but willing to look at me, talk to me, or to even claim his rights of me. it was not that I was eager for it to happen, but the expectation was there. Especially growing up to learning that you only share that spoken passion with a husband, to delve into the all means of pleasure only with your spouse, your significant other.

I guess forever a virgin then!

Sighing loudly, before smoothing out the invisible cresses of my satin full sleeved rosy pajama top in disappointment. I finally pull the door open, closing the lights and walking out into the dark room.

And here I could barely make out in the dark his figure laying close to the other edge of the bed with his board back towards me deep in sleep. I very slowly, very gently climb into the king sized bed, curling to my side under the thick covers, facing his back. The distance between us is enough to fit two others. Sighing lowly, watching as his back peacefully rises and falls with every breath indicating the deep slumber he is basking in. unaware of the war that has been starting to brew within me since this morning.

Even though this man has been nothing but decent, even polite in front of me. But after those words, a very sore fact hangs like a pendulum before my eyes. He does not want me, does not accept me and surly is embarrassed of me. it seems like he is too much of a gentleman to word it out to me, but that does not mean it hurts less. If anything I wished if he bashed, expressed, even snapped anything that would kill the hope in side of me and made it easier for me to detach, and not be swapped up by his silent charm.

The deadly charm that I now have realized unwillingly getting aquatinted to me.

And at that very moment did I realize, that what I have feared the most, what I have promised myself time and time again to never do it already in the making and being done. I was sharing a bed with a man who is not in love with me, in fact barely tolerates me.