Billionaire's Feisty Wife (Updating In the End of September 2021)

Chapter 9 - Cute Wifely Acts

Chapter 9

ELZA

My head is heavy and throat dry. I massage my temples and press my aching head. I hate headaches. I can leave food for 4 days but when I eat, my stupid blood pressure gets low. Last night when I was calling him names, I was okay until he made me realized what I was doing. I should not have done that. Nonetheless, he earned that. Why to worry? But at that tick, I was depressed knowing I have disrespected my husband. My late grandmother had been craving husband's respect into our minds. She was used to say that if a wife makes her husband King, then she is his Queen. But if she makes him her slave, she is a slave herself. I called him a bastard which technically makes me a bitch. Ha, no regrets. We are one.

The alarm rings making me jitter at the sudden interruption. I hold his mobile, stretching my arm to his side table to stop the damn noise. I sigh with relief when the calmness of night again prevails around. Looking at his face – in extremely dim vision my pupils are providing in faint rays of dusky light – I suddenly feel the urge to go through his mobile. Unlike typical couples, we never stressed My Thing or My Side. I know his gadgets' touch patterns and passwords. And my things... well I am not a password lover.

Quickly I slap away the idea of enquiring his mobile phone. I cannot do that. If he catches me then my point will get weaken. Why could he not declare that he loves me? Idiot! There exists three simple English words for this.

I cannot fathom how much more he would infuriate me. I love him. I want to tell him. He must also be longing to listen my confession – only if he is sincere with me. Nonetheless, he is the man. He should say it first.

He has his back facing towards me. I slide, unable to keep myself away when he is here after days. Strange emotions hit me and I gawk at him aimlessly. The night bulb in the walk in closet is now offering me enough light to contemplate his mane. My heart goes heavy when I do not blink.

He once himself told me that he is a sound sleeper. Hoping, even this time his sleep would not get disturbed, I slide some more towards him. Saying my erratic beats to behave, I linger a kiss at the place of his neck where hairs are trimmed and extremely small. His shampoo's fragrance squeezes out my cravings like a magic. It is my secret place to kiss him.

Having my fill, I leave the bed to do wudu for Fajar. I am mad at him and thus rather awaking him up, I opt making sounds. I smile at my success when he wakes up rubbing his eyes like a small baby. Okay, I am at some kind of peace after lashing out at him last night. But that still does not guarantee him forgiveness.

***

Absorbed in the recitation of Quran, I was making silent prays to Allah to keep my anger in check. Not all of it but a small part. I do not want to call him names ever again. Keeping finger at stop point, I arch my neck feeling strong fragrance of red rose.

I cannot believe he has brought me a flower from garden. Getting advantage of me sitting at the pillow side of bed, he places the red rose on the side table. My stupid heart flutters as I feel him killing the distance between us. Coming closer, he presses a sincere kiss on my head. What is that for? My breaths have literally stopped at this sweet gesture of... apology?

Or love?

Nevertheless, I show him my expressionless face and resume the recitation in medium voice. I hear him controlling his groan.

"I have to go office early. I would do breakfast." He throws order. Why? He could use asking tone.

Well, mister, I do not take orders.

"It's no hotel." My home does not run on orders. "It's your wife you are talking to. If you want breakfast, simply say." I again resume my recitation knowing well of no upcoming reply.

The bad side of me was hoping to not get a word about breakfast at all. My dying down anger will be vivid to him which I seriously cannot afford. But good thing is he said. Now, I can say that I completed your wish unlike you. Yes.

I again gave him no opportunity of apology at breakfast and during his departure. He made me rot in hell for five damn days. How can he escape easily?

When I go back to kitchen to eat Nutella, I see a small sky blue sticky note with something inscribed upon it with a black pointer. I remove it from the fridge and read it.

Humans make mistakes. And here I am your husband.

A note. I had said him that he could leave me a note. I wish he had done it before going to Italy. Despite my nature, I cannot bring myself to crumple it.

When I reach my bed to sleep, there is also a note in wait of me. It's brown and in circle shape.

Being your husband, cannot I get the privilege to explain myself?

There is a poor sad face on the back side with two drops of tears falling down. I chuckle. This man and his creativity ideas. I am amazed why not an animation yet?

Chucking the both of the notes into the drawer, I take the coverlet to sleep. The pretty sleep is showing mercy after many days. Why not to get benefitted?

But as my husband knows the ways to irk me, I hear the WhatsApp notification tone. He switched it on asking me to not seclude myself from world. Who can tell him that he is my world? Idiot!

***

This one is a short chapter. I am not getting what to write more in it.

I had scheduled it in my mind to post it two days ago but I was being lazy in proof-reading before posting. Lol.

So, what do you think is apology on the way?

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Next Chapter will be in 3 days.