-What do you mean what now? I haven’t said anything yet.
“What do you want?”
-How did you and Dad meet?
“It was a black and cursed day and Satan felt like doing overtime on my brain.”
-That’s sweet. But what really happened?
“I don’t have time for this crap. Move.”
-See, but I need to hear this crap. Because I need to know that before it turned into this, it started off well at least.
“He saw me somewhere and came to propose and I said yes despite his shit reputation and multiple warnings from everyone to stay away from him. End of.”
-And that will always be the official version of events we tell everyone. But give me the juice, tell me the goss.
“The juice is in the fridge and gossip is a sin.”
-Just tell meeee.
“Uff. He came to our house with my cousin. I don’t know why. No one invited him there. And he saw me reading while everyone else was playing with marbles. So he asked me why I wasn’t playing and I told him I didn’t have my own set.”
“Then he bought me my own set the next day. That’s what predators do to get their prey more comfortable before they strike.”
-He bought you your own set? Cute. Then what happened?
“I lost them in a bet.”
-NOT with the marbles; with you two.
“Nothing, he came over more. Sent letters. Made phone calls. This, that. Said he wanted to marry me. Initially I was like okay. Then news of his reputation chased me everywhere I went, like a haunting shadow so I broke it off.”
“Hmm. He was relentless though, went to one of my aunties with his artificial tears and a ring. Asked her to give it to me because he “loved” me and knew I liked rings. She told him she couldn’t without alerting everyone that it was from him but he begged her to find a way.”
“So I go to visit this aunty with my mum, who hated your father by now, and my sisters. And my aunty is making a lot of hand gestures to show off the ring on her fingers, knowing it will catch my attention.”
-I like this aunty already. She sounds badass.
“Yes, well. I said to her ‘ooh aunty I like this ring it’s so pretty where did you get it from?’ and she said ‘oh this old thing? It’s getting too tight on me anyway, here, if you like it, you have it.’ So she took it off and gave it to me and no one questioned anything because again, they knew how much I loved rings. Then she whispered to me as I was leaving that it was from him. And that’s how your dad got the stupid ring to me without even trying.”
-Shit, that is smooth. Even you have to admit that that is smooth.
“Yes, well. Then we got married and now I have a daughter that asks too many questions and doesn’t clean the house enough.”
-Way to kill the moment, Mother. Can I see the ring?
“What ring? Oh that one. I sold it years ago and bought a nicer one.”
-And they say romance is dead.