"How does this look?..... or this one, hm no maybe this one" Paul exclaims inside our gargantuan walk in wardrobe at Cavendish.
He was strutting along the birch floorboards rather camp-ly, flailing his arms to and from their sockets, spinning and posing for me.
I sat on a leather chaise long, (don't know how to spell it lol) sipping cheap strawberry champagne, legs splayed along the gentle fabric of the seat.
We had been awfully bored in the house today and decided to make a day of cleaning, which quickly got discarded and was swapped for a 'try-on every item of clothing in the wardrobe and sip on cocktails' date.
"Eh I'm not sure dearest, maybe it would look better with that jacket?" I point at a salmon blazer, barely gripping on to the plastic hanger. He rushes over and yanks it from its framed holder and wraps it on himself.
"No. I'm not feelin it" Paul snaps as he glares at himself at the mirror.
"Nah neither am I, maybe replace the top" I offer my best suggestion but I was by no means a fashion guru.
He removes the jacket and rids himself of his T-shirt, I can't help but stare at his body, it's only natural, he is beautiful.
"Are we hunting for flies or something, gorgeous?" Paul asks noticing my gaping mouth and small waterfall of drool.
"No, no you're just so nice to look at" I blush, sticking my head down timidly. We have been together for years yet I still feel so nervous around him. Not in a bad way, just a loving way if ya get me.
"Tell me something I don't know darling" he pretends to flip his hair and traipses off into a cupboard.
I sit and chug my drink quietly as I await for my husbands arrival.
Soon enough I start to hear chaos, but before I see Paul I see shoes, shoes of every style;
trainers, sandals, Cuban heels, dinner shoes, high heels, pumps, boots and everything between.
They're flying from the doors and scattering all over the floor, creating horrible mess that Paul was, no doubt, never going to clean up.
"Uhh excuse me Mr McCartney, what the hell are you doing?" I get up from my chair and wander round to the currently occu-Paul-ed cupboard.
"I'm lookin for something...no..no..no..oh..FOUND IT!" Paul squeals as he stomps our through the mess. "Ta-da"
"Paul that's my wedding dress, why is it behind all those shoes" I ponder, a bit confused and intrigued.
"I dunno. Put it on" he insist, pushing it toward me.
"Paul I haven't worn it since our wedding day, it won't fit" I shy away from the garment.
"Oh cmon you've not gotten that fat"
"Hey watch it bitch"
"What too scared for the truth"
Me and Paul had always had a mean way of banter, we both knew we were lying, it was just how we joked.
"Ugh fine" I snatched the dress from his hand and went to put it on.
I slipped out of my clothes and replaced it with the long, white, princess dress that was detailed in crystal and lace.
"There, happy now?" I query pointing toward myself.
I shift my eyes up to look for Paul and when I do, I am met by a rather dapper man in a dark suit and tie, fancy trousers and a smirk spread on his face.
He walks over to the record player we kept just outside the wardrobe and he placed a record on it.
'At Last' by Etta James fills the peaceful room as Paul walks over to me and offers me his hand.
"Remember this song?"
"How could I forget?" I take his hand and we begging to sway to the music that was played on our wedding day. We held each other closely like we had on the day, taking in the scent of love and passion we had for one another.
"I love you so much, just as much as the day we married, even more if that's possible" Paul's words made my heart melt, I felt so
loved and by the right person.
" I love you too paul, but you've made such a huge mess-"
"Shush... we'll get the maid to clean it up tomorrow" he whispers.
"We don't have a maid" I argue.
He spins me and dips me to the ground and places a kiss upon me.
"I was talking about you"
