Barren | ✓

h o n e y

"hon, i'm home."

the first time he said those words, i knew where my future lay.

we had known for two years until then and were in a steady relationship. we'd taken a weekend getaway for valentine's day and he'd gone out to get some snacks for us.

when he returned to the room, he decided to bring on the cliché for fun.

the warmth and sweetness that resonated from it was a feeling i couldn't explain.

we hadn't spoken about any future plans worh regards to commitment until then. we were both working and exploring our careers and we needed time.

but since that getaway, i couldn't stop thinking about it.

we were quite opposite, in reality. we had different dreams, different goals, we came fr different realities. our ideologies didn't always match and our personalities were yin and yang.

and yet we complemented each other so perfectly.

i let the topic slip under the carpet for the next few months. work picked up and so did the demand of our schedules. it was easy to forget the whimsy of the word, for it was a one-time occurence.

we weren't a fan of nicknames.

the second time it happened, we were cuddled up on the couch watching a movie. i had just finished having a cone of ice cream.

"hon, you have ice cream on your face."

he looked at me and smiled, before gently tracing his fingers and cleaning the rogue chocolate away.

i couldn't stop blushing.

my heart hammered against my heart and i could feel the anxiety course through my veins.

the words wanted to escape me so dearly!

but how could i? it was not the right time at all, and i didn't want to scare him away.

but i soooooo want to tell him!

somewhere between the internal tussle, the words seemed to have slipped out in a mumble.

"what was that again? marry what?"

i looked at him, abashed. out of all the ways i could have done it, we were goofily cuddled up on the couch with a blanket watching a movie and having popcorn and ice cream.

great.

but i had let the words slip. i had crossed the bridge. i had to see it through.

"i said, marry me."

the bravado i put on was impeccable. how confident i sounded when in reality i had thought not one thing through.

tanmay looked at me silently. he looked gobsmacked, his face expressionless.

minutes passed by and neither one of us broke eye contact. it seemed as though whoever broke eye contact first would have to yield to the awkwardness of the conversation to ensue.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, tanmay sighed.

"you know what, i will."

it was my turn to look gobsmacked. i expected him to run away as a first response, ignore me for weeks as the second response, maybe have "the talk" with me as a third response or have a diplomatic "maybe" as an answer scenario four.

the yes seemed sublime.

as though reading my mind, he repeated himself.

"natasha, yes, if you give me the privilege, i would like to keep wiping ice cream off your face for the rest of our lives together."

i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding in and laughed awkwardly. he pulled me into his arms as though on instinct and the world melted.

yes, i wanted to spend the rest of my life this way - in the sweetness of his embrace.

that evening evaporated so quickly, yet it was amongst the most memorable in my life.

we had a lot of wrinkles to iron. we hadn't met each other's families, we had no idea about out future prospects and we were still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship.

we had an answer, now we had to set forth the journey to it.

after that day, we did not broach the subject again. but something had brought us closer than ever.

it was after a year that tanmay officially proposed to me for marriage.

"yes hon, i will marry you!" had been my ever enthusiastic response, but what caught my attention was the goofy smile that crossed his face.

for a second i couldn't fathom it until it hit me.

it was the first time i'd called him hon.

turns out, the word had the same effect on him as it did on me.

we've been happily married for nine years now and to this date, that very word of endearment brings a sweet smile on our faces.

we've not had a perfect story. there have been a lot of ups and downs and sailing through rough waters. but through the years we've loyally stood strong for each other and are now enjoying the calmness of the tranquil waters.

perhaps this is what the sweetness of domestic bliss feels is all about.

🍯

- a loving wife recounting the tale of how she proposed to her better half

🍯