Humph. Jon just got back from work. A bit fed up actually. Spent the whole day anticipating but Jon didn't feel like going out to have some fanciful dinner or discussing about us going on a short getaway. Instead, he settled to occupy the entire couch and watch golf on the telly, with the curtains drawn, he made himself at home, so to speak. Gutted. Also, the party last night was quite nice, barring the event when we approached Jude and his wife, Claire, as she began strutting her way in our direction. She was wearing a sequined dress, nails extravagantly manicured, face and makeup well-done, she was high-maintenance. Funny thing is she is a germaphobe, she stood a metre away from us as we spoke, had to restrain myself from laughing because it was so weird to hold a conversation in that manner.
We landed on the topic of cooking.
"Did I tell you about how good Jude is with cooking? He can whip up a perfectly good steak that will pair so well with your French Wine, it'll perk your mood up so easily."
And then we landed on the topic of housework.
"Can I just say that Jude can be such a good househusband, he can don on an apron and zoom across the living room with his vacuum cleaner and suck up all the dirt in every nook and cranny of this place. He wipes the furniture and changes the bedsheets and pillowcases fortnightly, he's so good at those, and you look so cute in an apron daaarling"
And then we landed on the topic of music.
"Just to let you know that Jude can be such a brilliant musician. He knows how to sing ballads that will make you cry. He could seriously do Whitney Houston (God bless her soul) justice. He can even play the piano, the guitar, and oh he can really serenade you with a ukelele. So good I swear."
She strangely got herself in this spiral of obsessing over her husband, it was unsettling. Budged out of that conversation in no time. Other than that, the party was swell.
8.45pm: God, felt kind of hot and stuffy in the house, decided to step out on the balcony for a while. Didn't speak to Jon the entire evening, too engrossed in his show, didn't even come to the table for dinner. Not to say that it was an ideal dinner anyway, had to call for pizza delivery. Lesson number one, never place any expectations on Jon or risk trouble.
Stared out into the open, nothing much, the sky was dark, moon was high, the stars were shining. Admittedly a little frustrated with Jon because he was such a bum. Teetered on the edge of daydreaming when he came out and joined me on the balcony. Felt like teasing him but needed to keep up the annoyed facade.
"Why the sulk?" He asked.
"Oh nothing..." I sighed. His hands were wrapped around my waist while my face fit so perfectly in his neck. Loved it.
He pulled me back into the living room, and fumbled out of his suitcase, a box of macaroons, strawberry and lemon-mint flavours, my favourites! I gasped in elation, such a sweet gesture, kind of redeemed him for aforementioned issue with dinner.
"How did you know I loved strawberry and lemon-mint?"
"Noticed you had post-its on the fridge on how to make strawberry and lemon-mint cookies, so I gathered those were your favourite flavours. We'll share these alright." He said, with one eyebrow raised sexily, I was charmed.
"Good observation."
He made a beeline into my room, and suddenly from the kitchen, I could hear 'Tonight I Celebrate My Love' echoing in the background. And then he emerged from the corner and swept me up into his arms and carried me into the bedroom. We laid on the bed.
"You get an extra for being lovely even when you're pissed," he caressed me so fondly as I stared into his eyes, overwhelmed. He slowly and carefully lifted a macaroon out of the box. And then, Mmmmm... I was satisfied.
