The Don's Wife

47 | Special Package

*ding!*
My phone chimed, vibrating briefly inside my pocket.

About time.

Ever since Rosie had my number, not a day goes by without that particular notification tone haunting me wherever I go.

Even though I had specifically told only to contact me when necessary, my persistent little wife brushed off my words and continue to do what she wants, which came as no surprise anymore.

Pure spams they were. Always started with a random picture, such as the sweets she just baked, or the tea she brewed, flowers she nurtured, or her book of the day, paired with a couple of her prized vinyl records she listens to as she reads. And right below each one of those images, there would always be a short, breezy caption attached.

The first time I received her text, I thought I would find it taxing since I'm not, in any way, shape or form, a text-person.

'It's best to ignore than to trouble yourself.'
I had told myself then.

But who the fuck was I fooling?
I'm a weak man when it comes to Rosalind Alderidge.

And ignore?
I've been that poor moron once, and once is enough.

Though unexpectedly, dealing with her messages turned out to be strangely relaxing instead of taxing. Enjoyable even.

Apart from the fact that they're endearing, it also pleases me to know that she thinks of me even in the smallest moments. It's as if she's somehow involving me into her daily life, at the same time, extending a piece of her presence throughout my day. Which I never knew necessary. And to imagine her sweet smile playing behind those light-hearted texts.. a smile just for me.. it helps make even the shittiest days a bit better, I'd say.

Maybe, texting isn't as bad as I make it out to be.

Before I knew it, my thumbs were typing for a reply.
And the next day, I found myself checking on my phone every few minutes for a message to pop.

That was the beginning of our small, yet dear exchange. But same as every aspect ; There's always a bad side to every good.

Today's picture is the view of her rose garden that she took from her seat at the gazebo, along with a caption that read ;

"Tis' truly a crime to keep such a beautiful view to oneself."

'Beautiful view..'

Lucid images came flooding my mind on its own at the phrase. Of gleaming, porcelain skin, lissom curves of a goddess-like frame, a pair of sunburst eyes that held enchantments, lustrous golden hair, and soft cherry lips spread into the fairest smile.

Hm.. I beg to differ with her on that point.
For I'd prefer to savor beauties alone.
Especially when that object of beauty belongs to me.

***

Wife

             "Is this your wile of asking for my company?"

"If it is, will you oblige?"

"Ask me again once you've paid your debt."

"How many kisses away am I?"

"A dozen or so."

"I'll ask you tonight then."

***