I see you walking towards us even before she can introduce you. OMG! THE WALK! I mean I’ve never doubted Natasha’s taste but you are definitely a hit. The tight fitting half-way buttoned up white shirt gives off the effect you want, you slut. Well tucked in your grey suit pants that are just an inch from your ankles. The brown belt that matches the brown loafers. I’m sure I have seen this outfit a thousand times before so why does it look so hot on you? I don’t mean it like that though. You’re my best friend’s boyfriend.
I’m seated right opposite Natasha as you walk towards us from behind her. I can see your smirk already forming as you prepare to greet us and finally officially meet me. Your girlfriend gets up to give you a hug. Her head fits perfectly between yours and your shoulder. I stare at your hands as you stroke her back. They move so softly. “Meet my best friend Angela” I’m introduced. You stretch your hand to give me a handshake, holding eye contact. “I’m Andrew.” Of course you are. Your voice makes my stomach drop. I’m intrigued to know what you’re about. I like you already. But not like that. You’re my best friend’s boyfriend.
Andrew and Angela sitting on a tree. K-I-S
You join us to our little chat. Filled with useless lady talk. It seems like you don’t mind. I find myself laughing at your jokes too often. I hope Natasha doesn’t notice. It’s really not my fault you’re funny though, is it? I compose myself. You’re just a man. A man I want to devour yes, but still. You’re just a man. You shouldn’t know I
‘m excited. The last thing I want to do is stroke your ego. However, I love how soft spoken you are. How you articulate your words. How you say “Angela” when you want me to contribute to the chat. I wonder how it would sound with lights dimmed and ..nevermind. I digress. I don’t mean it like that. You’re my best friend’s boyfriend.
I remember meeting Natasha on my first day in high school. Great heavens! I hated her! One, because she was so loud but mostly because she tried to bully the class into making her the class rep. Okay, well, it worked- because she miraculously won the “not-so-serious” class elections. I warmed up to her over the weeks. She was really sweet once you got past her loud character. She eventually gave up the class representative seat. I think it overwhelmed her. Or maybe it wasn’t what she expected. WAIT. How could I forget to mention. Please, I can explain. I’m cultured I swear. It just slipped my mind. I WENT TO ALLIANCE.
We had very close interactions all through our four years but in Form Four she became my deskmate. It wasn’t the plan all along though. Just imagine the new year resolutions a pre-candidate has. I could barely enjoy Christmas with all the “You’re now a candidate” remarks. So, as a vow to my seriousness, I made up my mind to pair up with a “serious deskmate” The girl I had the agreement with was so excited too. I mean, I would be her deskmate. What’s better than that? Maybe I’m too into myself. Sorry readers. She was excited. Or so I thought. Because on the opening date, I watched her carry her desk to a different place. She walked towards me afterwards to explain herself. “Sorry, Sandra had already saved a spot for me so I can’t let her down”
Do you guys hear this? So it’s okay to let me down?? I didn’t hold it against her though. She wasn’t really a friend friend. She was just a potential deskmate. So that’s how I paired with Natasha- because she was too unserious to be ‘booked’ as a deskmate by anyone else. I like to call it – fate.
I love Natasha so so much and you wouldn’t even begin to fathom what could happen if I found out you’ve made her unhappy. But that’s an empty threat. I know you wouldn’t do anything of the sort. I trust you. I think. You are in too deep, many would say. Three years and two kids later- without any tears- is enough to give my testimony.
I notice every subtle thing you do for her. Taking the kids to school every morning. Holding all doors for her. How you don’t let her carry the groceries because ‘it is straining’. Waiting while she’s at the nail appointment you paid for just so you could take her to dinner afterwards. Holding her hand every chance you get just so everyone knows how proud you are she’s yours. How you compliment her smile so she doesn’t forget she’s what you prayed for. The “What should I get you?” texts while you buy games for family night. The cliché but cute breakfasts in bed. The gifts. The trips. The kisses. I love how gentle you are with your little daughters. Argh! Every woman dreams of you Andrew. I’m sure God doesn’t go a minute before your qualities are thrown in His general direction. Your features are to die for too. You are the perfect husband. Natasha is really lucky to have you. No. She isn’t lucky actually. She deserves you. She deserves the best.
Does your family know who you really are Andrew? Do they know you’ve seen more parts of me than I ever could myself? Does your wife know you yearn for me when you call her name? Do they know you say you love me on your matrimonial bed? That you say I shouldn’t get a tattoo because my skin is too perfect. Oh! How you hold my waist so lightly almost like you’re wishing onto a dandelion. Waiting for my go ahead to run your hands beyond my waist. That you imagine I’m in your presence when you are making love to her. That I can never get over how you say my name. That your selfish self would choose me over her if ever put in that situation. That it’s me you meet every Saturday at 3 o’clock and not your therapist.
It’s the power you have to make us feel this special that amazes me. How are you so perfect in both worlds? You don’t have to worry about me Andrew. I wouldn’t say a thing to your wife. She’s my best friend. I love her so much. Maybe just as much as you do. Irony? Yes but you’re no better. After all, you’re the married one. Who’s worse?
What do you feel about this piece? I enjoyed reading it? Did the writer serve justice to it? Tell us.