The Way To A Man’s Heart Is Through His Stomach!
It had been nearly five years since I started dating David. Every year on our anniversary, I would hope he would ‘pop the question’ and propose, but he just would hand me another gift basket. My friends and family grew worried and assumed David didn’t want a future with me. But I shrugged away their apprehensions and knew I would be his wife one of these days. It was on the night of our fifth anniversary that my anxieties about my future grew.
“You gave me a watch this year,” I told David with disdain. Once again, there was no engagement ring.
“Cupcake, you are so punctual, and your watch was getting kind of old. I knew you would love it,” he replied.
How thoughtful of you, I said to myself. I just didn’t know what more to do for this guy. We had been living together for four years, and I had been cleaning and washing for him. I would entertain his guests and people for work. The only imperfection I had was my cooking – he would always tell me that.
That night, when we went back home, I was in no mood of making love with him. I told him I felt nauseated from the shrimp and asked him to go to bed without me. When I heard him snoring in his sleep, I went downstairs to surf the Internet. I needed to empty my mind. While I went from website to website, I came across an advertisement for cooking classes in my city from the world-renowned chef, Esther Hugimo. He was visiting New York for two months to conduct cooking classes for women and men interested in cooking. The fee was high, but I knew it was worth it. I instantly filled in the form online to join.
After a few days, my classes began. I was taught how to create sweet delicacies and salty delights. I learnt so many dishes and tricks to create the most mouth-watering meals. I would serve David with a carefully made home-cooked meal. He loved everything I would cook and would always ask for another serving.
It was the last week of my cook classes when I went home one day. As I opened the door, I found lit candles everywhere with rose petals on the floor. David stood in the middle of the room with two glasses of champagne. As I stepped towards him with praising eyes at the effort he had made, he softly said to me, “Whenever I thought getting married, I would get scared. I wanted to marry someone with a creative skill at everything. I know this took me too long to ask, but I was waiting for you to be perfect, and now you are beyond that. Will you marry me, Katherine?”
It took me less than a heartbeat to answer the question with a ‘yes.’