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12(chapter 12)
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His Perfect Wife 13
Dinner was torture. Ramiel sat next to me, and like that wasn’t enough to keep me distracted, his hand rested on my lap almost half the time. My mind could barely focus on the new flavors Adri had prepared, she said the dish was chicken Alfredo and pasta penne. It was delicious, she was a wonderful cook. However, because my husband couldn’t keep his hands in place, I could barely focus on her as she spoke. But I could grab some things, she had worked for Ramiel for almost 7 years now, she helps around the house and is in charge of the staff. They are usually other staff around, but not during the weekend, she also lives here but stays downstairs. Adri was very sweet and it looked like she had a pretty casual relationship with Ramiel, they shared some inside jokes within themselves and she seemed to know him very well. After dinner I offered to help clean up but Adri dismissed it, she reminded me I was now the co-owner of the house and I didn’t need to get my hands dirty at all.
His Perfect Wife 14
“Good morning my mma”, I heard my husband say as I peeled open my eyes. I smiled as I adjusted to the brightness of our room. Our room. After our beautiful night together out in the outskirts of the city, talking about everything, or rather me listening as he talked about his life here in Seattle, about his business, his family, his friends. We got back home and almost immediately crashed. “What time is it”, I asked sleepily after taking in a breath of morning Seattle air, which was quite cold. “6 minutes past 7”, he answered. I sat up from they bed and yawned, waking up almost completely with the action. “When’s your service”, I asked almost intinctly, wanting to know how early he went to church and how much time I had to get ready. “Service?”. Ramiel got off the bed and walked over to his desk, tapping on the mouse on his computer. “Church service?”, I answered and half asked him, confused whether there was another word for it. My words must have stopped Ramiel in his trac
His Perfect Wife 15
*9 months later*I slid my eyes open, feeling the most pain I could have ever imagined. Breathing felt hard and I could only take short breaths at a time, I felt the sting of the pieces of glass that were pierced into my skin. I could not move my neck, I realized that with a failed attempt to look around. I was wearing a brace, that I could tell. “Ramiel”, I managed to say, I could barely hear myself, I could barely hear anything but sirens and more sirens with muffled voices from people that were not even a bit familiar. “Mrs Kingsley you are in good hands you are going to be fine”, I managed to hear an unfamiliar voice say.“Ramiel”, I called out again, a bit louder than the last time but I could still barely hear myself. “Where is my husband”, I asked. “Relax, you have to save your strength Mrs Kingsley. I felt us moving. I was strapped down, being rolled into an ambulance. Where was he? Was he okay? “Where is my husband?”, I asked this time louder than ever, sobs breaking
His Perfect Wife 16
The trip from my room felt too long, despite his room only being 4 rooms over, I felt like I was being wheeled for hours.But when Iris pushed me through the doors of his room, time stopped. Immediately I saw his body on the bed, so stiff. His breathing wasn’t like normal it seemed shorter, quicker and not as deep at all, that probably had to do with the tube that currently went down his trachea, aiding him to breathe. He looked so pale even from a distance, I never knew he could look that pale. Not even after we stayed in the bath for over an hour did he look that pale. How could he look so much smaller in a matter of two days? Or was my mind playing tricks on me? Tears blurred my vision as I finally reached his side, I reached out to touch him, hold his hand that always found it’s way to mine no matter where we were. As my hands touched his cold ones, my tears spilled, and I couldn’t help but gasp. Stiffened Whimpers and my inaudible giberrish filled the room as I cried while
His Perfect Wife 17
*8 months ago*“Let’s go to dinner today”, he said after placing his usual morning kiss on my cheek. He was knotting his tie and looking at me like he always did, like I were the only person he saw, like I meant too much to him but he did not mind it one bit, like he never wants to look away. “Dinner?”, I asked, we hadn’t gone out much together, only the other time I asked to see his office and his occasional night drives with me to the outskirts of the city. The frenzy of people that struggled to see him was almost too much to handle. Many people struggled to take pictures with him, asking questions and trying to make their way past his very heavy security. When it was only me, it would be just a couple of photos, but my husband? It was safe to say I married a celebrity, I had now come to understand the use of the plentiful security we had to have while going outside, especially for him. “Yes. I think it’s time we introduced you formally to the world, If you’re ready of course
His Perfect Wife 1
I dropped all the firewood I had picked at once. My back felt stiff but that was a too normal feeling after walking the usual distance with that amount of firewood on your head. I sighed as I tried my best to stretch my back, trying my best to get enough mobility to my back. I would need it for the rest of my chores. Finally feeling satisfied I bent down to gather the firewood and take them to where they should be. It wasn’t like my aunty cooked with firewood. There were two kerosene stoves inside, the firewood was for cooking her cassava and the preparation for fufu that I mostly took care of. “Cheta”, I heard my name being called, i hurried out of the outside kitchen to the front of the house. There the older woman stood with her usual grim face, she almost never smiled. I was used to it. She also barely had any reasons to. “Are you done with gathering firewood?”, she asked me. “Yes, they are in the kitchen now”. She nodded in satisfaction. “You need to get the bag of cas
His Perfect Wife 2
Yesterday aunty asked about the man in black. I told her he dropped me off at the house after the accident. She asked for his name to know if she might have heard of his family but conveniently I didn’t know his name. She said he wasn’t at all familiar, so maybe he was from here but hadn’t been around for a long time. He spoke out dialect so he had to be from here. Everything about him still lingered in my mind, from his smell that surrounded the car to his perfect Igbo yet perfect English without a hint of his mother’s tongue intruding as he spoke. I wondered what he was, what he did and where he was from and most of all why he was here. Was it a burial? Or a wedding? Or the building of a new house? Why did he help me? Was he that kind? I let my mind search for endless possibilities as to why a man like that was in the village market dressed even more expensively than the village’s monarch and looking like he could buy the market without even stretching. He seemed very imp
His Perfect Wife 3
Time flew. From the moment I agreed to the marriage and Aunty took me to the market to at least get something presentable for it. To when the elders and his people shared kola and drank wine as a sign of agreement of peace. I barely had any time to rethink my decision. Even though I would have still arrived at the same decision, yet I wished I had more time, more time to myself. To meditate on what this meant for me, to think of how I would manage. I didn’t have enough time. Before I knew it I was married under the laws of customs. In the eyes of my people, I was already a married woman. At the age of 21 married a man I did not know. A Mrs was placed before my name within only 2 days, I didn’t have enough time to keep my title of Ms. I was now Mrs Kingsley, a name I was only aware of a few hours ago. I didn’t know how to feel, what to feel. “Mma”, I heard my new husband call, making me turn around to face him. His voice was just as it usually was, smooth and deep. Smooth enou
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