Chapter 16: ❁an awkward, shy guy

❁an awkward, shy guy

Another night, another sleepless John sat on the settee near the window. Forgive me. She had said. And he had said nothing.

He wanted to ask her: "For what? You never did anything wrong."

When John was young, he and Metilda had these idealistic views on marriage. They knew it was going be hard but they didn't know it was going to be this hard. Marriage for him was always about himself, his pleasure, his sorrows, his happiness but marriage is everything other than yourself. He realized it now. Marriage was about her happiness, her sorrows, and her pain. A successful marriage places the importance of the significant over oneself.

Thoughts like these made John's head hurt. If life could only be simpler.

He'll be more careful with Jannet. He'll make it about her, not himself.

But what about Metilda? Why couldn't he make it work with her?

Because all Metilda reminded him was the darkness in life, the arguments, unsaid words, mistakes, frustrations, and the screams.

He wanted to be in the light and Jannet was his light.

❁❁❁

It was a lazy weekend and the day of the sixth kiss. Metilda ran the comb through her wet tresses. She stood by the door of the back porch. Wind softly rustling through her hair. The sunflowers shining in the morning sunlight. She usually woke Louis up by ten but it was ten-thirty right now and the poor child could use some rest. Schools these days tire the life out of children.

She wondered how John was getting ready, considering both his arms were sprained. She at-least expected a call for help from him. Maybe not, after all she had poured salt over some old wounds.

She laughed to herself. Of course, he wouldn't forgive her. He was one stubborn man. He could tell her that he still loved her yet he couldn't forgive her. And they said women are complicated, well then men are confusing asses.

❁❁❁

John was getting ready to take a shower. It was ten o'clock and he never woke up this late. The lack of sleep in the previous nights must be catching up to him. There was one thing John hated and it was being asleep past the rise of the sun.

He stripped out of his office clothes, it seems like he had fallen asleep in them. His arms pained a bit as he lifted the shirt above his head. The joints of his elbows screamed with pain when he reached out of the toothbrush. He had to bite down on his lips to prevent himself from screaming.

Before stepping into the shower, he turned on the radio box. It was a strange habit he had, of listening to music while he showered. He has specifically gotten the radio box installed in bathroom for this reason.

"Welcome to 95.7 FM where we'll be playing the new release by MAGIC! Ladies and Gentlemen hold your breaths because this song will literally take your breath away."

He was about to turn on the tap when he remembered he couldn't get his bandages wet. He went back and shuffled through the cabinets, looking for something to cover his arms with. After searching for ten minutes, he found these arm length gloves Metilda used for waxing the bathroom tiles.

Pulling them on, he stepped back in. Steam engulfed him. The water was extremely hot, just the way he liked it. John felt the soreness from yesterday leaving his muscles. He turned his attention to the song playing.

"I am a sinner, as cold as the winter

She is the sun, she is the queen of love

I am a burden, always uncertain

She is a raft, only believes in us

And I know that she cries by the red in her eyes

She's been waiting for signs that never come

All she ever really wanted was...

One woman, one man

that's all that she asks

No other demands

One Woman, one man"

This song couldn't have had a worse timing. John groaned out loud. Seriously? Why was karma so bent on putting him down?

But then again, this song was true. For him, even though Metilda was no longer the sun. She still had been once upon a time, the sun, the empress of his heart. And yes, he had been the sinner. The colder one in this marriage.

John was forced to think back to the days when he had first announced his relationship with Jannet to Metilda. The red eyes of wine still haunted him at night. How could he be the same John? The young John could never bear a single tear in her eyes yet this John is the reason for the pain behind those eyes.

He couldn't do it anymore. The guilt, the tremendous guilt of putting down the person he had loved so much was suffocating him. John was about to step out, again, and turn off the radio. Some habits were better buried in the past. He didn't think he could listen to music anymore, not when every single song reminded him of Metilda.

Just then, something unfortunate (well, fortunate for those who hate John) occurred. The gloves John wore still had wax on them. The wax had melted from the hot water and dripped onto the floors. The shower door was half open when it happened. John set his foot on the trail of wax and kaboom, he slid back into the shower, his legs sprawled wide apart, the shower curtain on the floor, and his sprained arms pointing to the roof.

Wide-eyed and half in pain, John realized there was no way he could get up. The angle at which his body was stuck in the shower required both his arms to exert maximum amount of force to get up.

But being the stubborn man he is, he tried getting up. He was out of breath by the third attempt and his arms were throbbing as though on fire.

He had either two options: he could stay here all day long with the hot water pouring on his face or he could call for help.

Why was his ego so large? Chewing his bottom lip, John pushed his arms for the third attempt.

❁❁❁

Metilda had just finished the report for Time's magazine and was about to head to Louis's room to wake him when she heard an irritated cry for help. What could it be?

"METILDA!"

She stopped at the door of John's room. "What is it?"

"In the bathroom," He replied, panting.

She cautiously walked to the bathroom, wondering what he could want. Hopefully, not what she thought because there was no-way she was joining him for a shower. He choose Jannet, not her.

Metilda didn't step inside the bathroom and stood by the door. "Is there anything I need to get you?"

He groaned loudly. Someone woke on the wrong side today. "Can you get in here?"

"Why?"

"You'll see."

"I'm not coming until you tell me."

Another groan. "I fell and now I can't get up."

She turned the knob. It was locked. "John, the door's locked. I'll go get the screwdriver."

"Just hurry up!"

❁❁❁

After unscrewing five screws and two bolts, Metilda had finally managed to open the door. She was about to walk in when she remembered one small detail.

"You're wearing clothes, right?"

John scoffed. "Like you haven't seen me naked before."

She blushed red. Before Metilda could make some witty remark, John added. "I'm covered, just come in, I'm tired now."

"A little kindness wouldn't hurt," She sighed.

"Please, my beautiful wife, please help your husband who is in great distress right now."

She almost rolled her eyes at his sarcastic tone. God, they were arguing like two teenagers. She honestly wondered where maturity went, maybe down the drain.

"Coming in!" She announced.  A large cloud of steam attacked Metilda. The shower was still running and John was squashed exactly under it. His legs were spread wide apart like he was doing splits and his shoulders were wedged between the door. The blue striped shower curtain had been cleverly placed over his manhood.

Thank god! he had some decency. She thought. He must swallowed a lot pride to ask for my help.

Metilda scratched the back of her ear. "How should we do this?"

"Can you atleast turn off the shower? My skin's all wrinkly."

"Oh, sorry." She quickly closed the tap and backed away from him.

"Now, can you help me? My legs hurt." John looked up at her. It is safe to say he's never felt so embarrassed in his life.

"Stop whining. You're annoying me."

"Well, it's all your fault. These gloves had wax on them. You should have cleaned them."

"First of all, did I tell you to wear my gloves? Second of all, do you have any common sense? No-one wears waxing gloves to the shower. You should have asked me and I could have tied a plastic bag around your arms but no, of-course, talking to me hurts your ego. Look now where your ego has got you."

"Mel," John softly whispered. Beautiful green eyes stole her breath as her pulse began rising. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too,"

"I forgive you." For what? Metilda wanted to ask.

She found herself leaning to her knees and snaking her arms under his shoulders. "Let's get you on your feet, Okay?" Her fingers burned a trail through his shoulders. He had an urge to close his eyes.

Water drops clung to his black hair. She felt her heart race, freely and wild.

"On the count of three, I want you to try lifting yourself up," Her breath grazed his ear. He felt goosebumps rise on his skin. "One, two, and three..."

And they tried. John pushed his sore leg muscles and Metilda forced her tired arms to help him up. It was of no use.

"Let's try it again." She huffed and they did. This went on for ten minutes before both of them gave up. Red sores were beginning to sprout where Metilda's arms held John's shoulder.

"One second." She moved back and leaned against the tiled walls.

"Let's try something different." John chocked out.

She nodded and moved to stand behind John. Metilda realized that she would have to bring herself  closer to him. Trying to calm her rapid breaths, she brought her elbows under his shoulder joints. His back was flush with her chest and she started lifting him again

John was beginning to slowly inch his legs together. He was almost on his knees, then a moment later, he was on knees, pushing himself upwards. Metilda's arms slowly left him and John stood on his feet.

Relief fled John like an avalanche.  Without even realizing it, he was hugging Metilda- naked. The shower curtain now lay in a pile at his feet.

"Thank you. Thank you. I love you so much."

He kissed her hard on the lips, rendering her speechless. Honey light eyes stared at him, wild, surprised, and flustered.

This is when John realized he didn't have a single article of clothing on him. Metilda realized it too. Her cheeks were colored the brightest shade of red.

She looked away. "I-I'll go make breakfast."

John quickly put his hands over his private parts.  "Ya-yah. I'll be there in a minute."

She ducked her head and ran out the bathroom.

Once she was outside, John began laughing uncontrollably. God, they've been married for seven years yet they're acting like a newly married couple. John remembered their first night. Oh, how awkward things had been?

"We have to do this, John."  Metilda didn't dare to meet his eyes. "If we want kids,"

John clenched his stomach. Oh man, what an awkward, shy guy he used be in bed and Metilda was the total opposite, a tigress. She had to compliment him every time to boost his confidence.

It was a strange moment for a realization. As John laughed, he realized that they had more moments of happiness than sadness. It's just that, being human, John clung to the darkness rather than safeguard the light.

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Note: This hands down one of my favorite chapters I've ever written. I'm breaking the sixth day in two parts. So this is part one, part two will be posted this weekend.