I was abruptly awakened from my beauty sleep by the raucous caw of my neighbor's new, irksome rooster. Ever since its arrival, the rooster had taken it upon itself to perch on the fence right outside my window and unleash its prolonged crow.
Normally, I remained unfazed due to my deep sleep, but this time it managed to rouse me. Instead of its usual spot on the fence, it had descended to my window, crowing persistently like a relentless, repetitive alarm.
I shooed it off, and it flapped back to its owner's yard with a noisy flutter. Irritation tugged at me, but I swiftly pushed it aside. The day was for celebration, after all. It marked a decade of my marriage, a milestone worth cherishing. Lost in my thoughts, I had failed to register the absence of my doting husband. "Perhaps he's immersed in crafting a unique coffee blend," I mused aloud, a smile gracing my lips.
It was a delightful twist that he shared all my interests, and at times, I found myself wondering if it could truly be genuine. With a bright smile, I slipped into the pink crocs placed beside my bed, brimming with anticipation for the exciting surprise ahead. Damian was an expert at conjuring novel ways to amaze me on our special day.
I stealthily made my exit from the room, careful not to give away my wakefulness. The notion of catching him off guard held an irresistible allure, especially since the day was still in its tender hours and he'd never anticipated my early awakening. Our anniversary coincided with a weekend, presenting the ideal opportunity to indulge in the luxury of sleeping in and awakening to a splendid breakfast in bed, lovingly prepared by my husband.
"Oh hey there," he stood in a relaxed posture with my favorite tray in his hands, and a mug filled with coffee exuding steam. "Seems God poured out another bowl of beauty on you in your sleep last night." My face flushed and I chuckled over his tease as a sense of contentment hit me.
He placed the tray on the center table and walked back to hold my hands as I walked down the stairs. The perfect gentleman for the perfect moment. Morning coffee as usual but on our anniversary day, it gave me butterflies in my belle. I reached to take the cup from the tray after sitting comfortably on the couch but he held my hands back smiling mischievously as he picked up the mug for me instead.
"Happy anniversary, my love," he whispered, leaving a gentle kiss on my forehead. A sense of nostalgia washed over me, my shoulders relaxing involuntarily. A decade had passed, yet his touch still had the power to make me feel cherished. Though my eyes welled up, I managed to hold back the tears.
I playfully gestured towards the mug in my hand, asking, "Where's yours?"
"Oh, that! I'm going to get it right away." His response was accompanied by a wry smile, but I brushed aside any potential hidden meaning. The air was filled with contentment, and I had no intention of tainting it with unnecessary queries.
As he lingered in the kitchen longer than I had anticipated, curiosity got the best of me and I ventured in to see what he was up to. I decided to add an element of surprise, choosing to pad across the floor barefoot not minding the cold.
He stood hunched over the countertop. His gaze, fixated on something clutched in his hands. Abruptly, a prolonged, weary sigh escaped his lips as if carrying the weight of his thoughts. Without hesitation, he went further to empty the content of a sachet into the mug before him. Intrigued, I edged closer, my curiosity piqued as he stirred the mixture diligently. As my eyes shifted towards the sachet, a single phrase caught my attention in bold lettering: food coloring.
"Is this your coffee?" I asked, startling him.
"I'll explain," he stuttered and turned slowly to face me. "I've never really enjoyed coffee," "huh?" I gasped. "Please hear me out," he pleaded. "I've been taking coffee to please you ever since I learnt of your undying love for the beverage".
I was surprisingly calm but there was this burning feeling in my chest that I wished I could control. "I once stumbled on your personal journal before we got married and I saw everything you wrote about the kind of man you needed, so I had to keep up with it. I just didn't want to lose you, I'm sorry." His eyes were like two pools of warm honey, sparkling with remorse and tenderness.
"Why would you pretend just to please me?" At this point I wasn't mad he didn't actually like coffee but I was mad he kept it from me, I was mad he preferred to take hot-dyed tasteless water. I cared more about his health than the lie he's told me for ten years.
"Linda, I was so into you, I still am. I'll do anything to keep you. I've been hoping that one day, we'd really talk about our preferences but that day never came so I kept waiting. I'm sorry it played out this way." I could read from his eyes how horrible he felt. I felt bad too. He was right, I've never asked him what he loves, I assumed everything.
"It's our anniversary today, so I'll push this under the carpet, we'll revisit it later" I hugged him to calm his heaving chest. "What would you like us to do for fun?" His eyes widened, "you sure?" I nodded with a smile.
"I want to sit beside you and watch you drink your coffee, I always love the look on your face each time you take a sip." I chuckled at his request. We had come too far to break off because he didn't like coffee as much as I did.