“Good morning, Mr Gruesome. Had to rush into the office for a quick appointment. Should be back soon. Munchie says hi. Take care of yourself. Flower. P.S. Dinner is going to be lit”. The note was complete with kisses, Matilda style.
I lay back down on the bed, still feeling lazy and groggy from a night of long sleep. Yet I couldn’t stop smiling. It had been three, no, six blissful years (three legal ones) of getting to discover her over and over every day. Three years of helping her heal while I closed off healing wounds, and the other three to perfect our union, which was about to be made even giddier by the arrival of our son.
Matilda is a strong woman. Looking back as I slowly stood up to brush my teeth and go work in the shed, I strongly believed God gave me a gift the night she almost jumped off the bridge. I hate to think of what would have happened if I wasn’t there.
Maybe I shouldn’t.
Watching the woman i love when she sleeps, with her unruly hair (which always gets in my face by the way, just like her attitude at times) I remember the fights we have had, the tantrums she occassionally threw. Now with barely two months to delivery, she had somewhat picked herself up and was back to writing, stronger and better than before. Although I never ask, I always come home to a wild dinner. Mati loves cooking – partly because Munchie (our boy) makes her eat so much! And because she always wants me well fed due to my job. Judging by her food intake I am pretty surprised her cardio sessions with Dr Kate are paying off.
Judging by MY food intake, I’m surprised I’m not growing a belly yet. (Well, I work out, don’t come at me!)
I’m in the shed now, chiselling away at an ordered statue of a cherub for a new school. Sculpting never really left my life, and I am grateful every single day that she supports me doing what I love. Just as I support her.
Women are indeed incubators. it’s like I am reaping all the care I poured on her during those times she didn’t have the will to keep living. I look at her warm eyes and I wonder sometimes: someone must have blindfolded Mansen to drop this beautiful creature for someone else.
Anyway, his loss – my eternal treasure.
Jess called me yesterday, out of the blues. Saying she was sorry for everything, sobbing that her life has been in chaos ever since she eloped with Mansen, who has been giving her hell every day ever since they got married. Of course I felt sorry for her, but I would never trade Mati for any other woman.
I love her and her unruly curly hair like that. I have my gruesomeness, and she loves me with it.
All of the chocolate cream with the cheesecake, she loves everything about me, and it humbles me every day.
Speaking of chocolate cream and cheesecake, an idea just popped to my mind. I excitedly dropped the chisel and raced to the kitchen. Now I also can be a chef when I want to. I seldom cook these days because I see how cooking makes Mati happy. And her happiness is mine too.
I get the recipe book and scroll until i get to “Moist chocolate cheesecake with chocolate pudding”.
My eyes dance with excitement. Mrs Carneighen has no idea of what is waiting for her when she gets back from work.
A perfect dessert.
And a good foot rub with all the love from an imperfect man she chose to count the stars with.
(As written by Bruce Carneighen in his diary)
FROM THE STORY “TO LOVE A WRITER’
Efunnuga Henrietta Adedayo.
BREAKING DAWN 