I Love Her But… Part 3

Embu 3 2017 181 bp

Picture: https://www.instagram.com/picture_bad/



Closing the oven door, exhaling slowly & keeping a keen eye on the cake tin sitting in the middle, meekly.

Orange & vanilla scent wafts into the kitchen. Covered in cake flour from head to toe, like a slender cupcake, I’m a little proud of myself.

Who says men can’t bake?

I hope it won’t burn.  I’ll still eat it, no matter what. Her fingers made it.

The white kitchen counter is a little messy with eggshells and orange rinds littering it.

Nancy enters the kitchen looking fresh & with black slacks, a grey t-shirt and white towel wrapped around her head. Wet but wrapped firmly wrapped. Little strands of hair are sticking out. It sits pretty well on her head and I can imagine her as an African queen leading a revolutionary tribe.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say slowly as I look up to her. I mean it. I’m a handful but I don’t like it when she’s mad at me.

She shrugs her arms, ‘accidents happen,’ she says with a resigned face. It lights up when she notices that I started cleaning up the kitchen. Her eyes flicker around the kitchen quickly.

Utensils are soaking in the sink. A large clear bowl has with cake mix drooling on the sides. A silver whisk sits in it as sunlight is bouncing off it.

She takes a whiff of the air & beams even harder. Lowering her face, she notices that the baking flour is rolled up the way she left it plus the Blueband is still sealed.

I did something. Or I forgot to do something. I can’t exactly pinpoint it.

‘Babe, how did you finish up exactly?’, she asks evenly but a little flustered. I can tell when she’s inquiring about something gently.

I think a little but I still can’t put a finger on her pulse.

I’m different from her. That’s why she complements me.

I start retracing my steps slowly as I search her eyes for answers.

‘I add the rest of the stuff. I mixed it,’ I say slowly, ‘I tasted it,’ I savour the words as I lick my lips, ‘A drop of vanilla added,’ I finish off proudly.

Nancy bites her lip trying to hide her smile but I can tell that she loves my dimples & I. I just need to smile her and watch her edginess ebb out of her.

‘Then you poured into the cake tin,’ she helps me out slowly.

‘Yeah’, I say confidently puffing up my chest.

‘Did you coat the tin?’, she asks a little hesitantly and gently. Placing her elbows on the counter and her head between her hands with a knowing smile.

I laugh out loud. She giggles a little.

‘Next time,’ I say conspiratorially as I move behind her and wrap her in my arms. Her wet towel smells like coconut and baby hairs are on each side of her face.

I don’t know why I always forget that step. Shit happens, I guess.


‘Simon, what’s up?’ Nancy asks me earnestly. I snap out of my daydream.

‘I just wanted us to do something nice,’ I smile back at her large brown eyes. I get lost in them occasionally.

‘You’re acting weird,’ Nancy says softly.

‘Almost done deciding,’ I tease her as she lays her menu on the side.

A small furrow appears on her forehead and I can tell that she’s almost there. Like a kitten deciding whether or not to chase the light.

‘You’re beautiful,’ I breathe into her.

Willing her to believe me and take a chance on me. It’ll be a long night for her.


This is part of a short story. Click here for Part One or Part Two, if you like reading in reverse. Like us on Facebook. Check us out on Instagram.


One thought on “I Love Her But… Part 3

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s