the chateau was secretly built. although it’s small, he liked it that way. personalized, it was.
the chateau was a surprise for his beloved. and since it was a gift, this one ought to be very special. he, himself, chose the location—on top of a small mount approximately a two-hour drive to the city and a two and a half hour drive to the beach—perfect for those holidays, the size and the blueprint of the house—a yellow two-floored chateau with a small garden with a swing and a small coffee table branching next to it, the house’s interior—a variety of colorful utensils and cups, and old fashioned oven and stoves ideal for old fashioned spaghettis and bread.
it was perfect for him, for them, but not ideal for a gift for it was too extravagant. but then, he doesn’t mind for he wanted to give her the best—something personalized and something that would let her feel the sincerity and lifelong appreciation, for her birthday.
that was six months ago when our own little junior was still a baby. now, he’s already two years old and starting to learn his ABCs.
this morning, i guess i woke up too early for a sunday, and a holiday at that. i opened my eyes and saw my beloved wife at the end of the bed—reminding me that our junior is already a big boy and needs his own bed.
i prepared breakfast for today because i felt like serving my family. my nerves were pushing me to cook for my wife and my little boy. after all, it’s sunday, and a holiday, too—my time to show my appreciation, in short.
as i was preparing the table and plates outside the house, i was excited. my heart was pounding rapidly, hands were starting to sweat. i was excited to see her reaction and what she’d say. but when i turned my head to check, i was surprised to see my beloved, my love standing near the door. caught. she was standing beautifully, as i always see her, and smiling sweetly at me. i was caught—as always.
i was caught, but the show must go on, so i took her hand and led her to her seat. awkwardly, we were dating, but still in our pajamas. the wind was soft and the sun was softer. trees and birds were in their rhythm. i wanted it be intimate and romantic but in an instant, we found ourselves laughing hysterically and comfortably as if lovers at their seventeen and eighteen. it was lovely.
“dear, look at me.” i told her as i was staring at her at that moment. slowly, she looked at me, but a voice came and took her sight from me.
“ma…ma…” words came utterly slow. “pa…”
“this is the life.” i told myself.