The Pseudo-Husband Pt. 1

You saw him just as you were about to make entrance into the maxi. His beauty was so astonishing that you let your eyes linger backward for a while and then you bumped your head on your way in. As far as you were concerned this was a small price to pay to look at someone who so aptly testified of the existence of God. Mhmm! The brother was fine!

Really? There were men besides Shemar Moore who were this good looking?

Ah well, it’s a pity that you weren’t going to meet him. Or...Hallelujah! It appeared that fate was on your side this blessed day because you saw him running and signaling to the driver that he had every intention of taking a seat on this maxi.
He enters the bus, a slight heave in his breath, the result of his short sprint toward the maxi. He was tall, muscled and his cologne smelt just right.

Your heart beat a little faster when you realized that he was about to settle his bottom on the seat next to yours. You had no intention of speaking to him but hey, he was attractive. You quickly glanced at the second finger on his left hand to see if the band that screamed unavailability sat on his hand. But there was none.

Your hopes inched higher.

And then you heard, “Hey, I’m Chris. I’ve seen you around on hall before. What’s your name?”

What? Did he just speak to you? Did this fine man just calmly say, “Hey” and volunteer his name to you?

You muster up the courage to say, “I’m Kay. This is the first time that I’m seeing you. But good to know that you are a fellow Gargoyle.” For some reason your voice managed not to give you away. You didn’t sound like you were about to throw up on your shirt something that would no doubt be a product of the giddiness that came from this gorgeous man “hollering” at you.

The next thing you knew the two of you were chatting like you were long lost friends. The conversation was so intense that you didn’t even realize that your stop was approaching. You quickly hustled your book - the one that you hadn’t read two words from yet - and your phone to place them in the side bag that you were carrying, while still trying to cling to every word of his.

He asked you what the rush was and you told him that your stop was 3 minutes away. He quickly asked you to call out your digits so that he could “check” you on WhatsApp. He could be like every other guy, lose your digits and never send you a text message or give you a call but he could be different. He could call you. He could send you a text message.

That prospect excited you.

And just like that, you let your imagination run wild with it. You’d thought about your wedding dress, what type of husband you thought he would be based on the bus ride convo that you all just had, what song you’d sing to him at your wedding, the look of awe and the haze of mist that would cloud his vision when your dad walked you down the aisle and what your children would look like.