She's late

Jackson POV

When I got to the front door, my key jiggled in my hand as I struggled to get it into the lock hole, and I was kind of finding it difficult to push it in because my hands were occupied with bags of ingredients of Jennie's favorite dishes and wine.

“Damn it!“ I shouted when the keys almost slipped from my grip, but thankfully, I was able to catch them in time.

Finally, I got the key into the hole, and when I unlocked the door, I paused for a second to stare at my neighbor's place, the Harper family's bakeshop.

Since I live in the west of Brooklyn, where the streets gleam and never fall asleep, it was easy to see their front porch, and I gazed absentmindedly for a while before pushing my door open.

Once I was safely in the comfort of my house, I slammed the door shut behind me with my foot and steered my way into the living room.

To be honest, the living room is my favorite part of the house just because my wife put extra attention into furnishing it.

If anything I know about my woman is that, she loves to standardize everything and although I am a simple dude, I was not startled when she overwhelmed me with the living room remodel, and I do admire her works. 

Honestly, she makes a house feels like home even though she's not around most of the time.

My heart does ache at the thought of how absent she had been lately in my life, and I missed her like crazy.

The moment I walked into the kitchen, it was hard to ignore the renovation Jennie did in there. Now that she is not here, the little things that involve her seem to grab my attention more often than ever.

What gets to me though is that she delights in designing our place, and believed that I will be more relaxed and healthy if she renovates our home and makes it vogue before she travels abroad during her business trips.

But I flow along with her idea because at no time do I desire my woman to get hurt regarding the reality that I could never stay comfortably at home while she is elsewhere. But what is love without trust… right?

After all the crazy life challenges fate has thrown at us, staying beside Jennie is all the comfort I need, although I won't let her worry about my feelings because I know how damn important her work life is to her.

So, instead of letting my emotions get to me right now, I strolled toward the kitchen and deposits the bags on the counter. 

Well, I don't want to toot my own horn, but I am an experienced chef, and I enjoy showing my skills to my woman. Especially on a marvelous occasion like our anniversary, which is today, November twenty-first.

There's a reason to be happy today because Jennie had sworn to me on the phone that she would leave work and be home for our anniversary celebration. So, I am hoping to make this day worth her trip back home.

Gosh, I fucking love that woman, and after all these years, I am still a fool for love. 

And just like yesterday, I remember our wedding ceremony clearly… her face was priceless, and she looked like royalty. 

Even at this point, I can still picture my wife marching down the aisle, and I can't describe the feeling I felt then and now. It felt like I was happy, yet I wanted to cry, and I did laugh a couple of times but with tears in my eyes.

"Tonight is entirely about those beautiful memories we share on that day," Is what I have been telling myself all day long.

But despite Jennies assurances, I had my uncertainties that she would uphold her word because it was already seven pm, and she has not called me.

Since I didn't want to get into my feelings too much about this, I scrubbed my hands, got my cooking utensils, and started preparing my signature dishes.

A few minutes in, after I had turned the stove on, I had salty liquid dribbling down my body as heat carved into my skin, and I was constantly wiping away sweat as I stood in the kitchen, chopping, stewing, baking, stirring, sipping, and frying the food.

This woman meant every freaking thing to me, and I didn't want to mess shit up tonight. 

Perfection is what I was aiming for, and so far, the Amatriciana, chocolate pudding pie, ice cream sundae, beef filet with portobello sauce, and chocolate brownies looked pleasant on the eyes. 

Once I had finished putting the food away, on the dining table, I also placed decent sets of crystal glasses and fancy plates, napkins, silverware, and a vase of roses on the table. 

From my point of view, to say the very least, the dining table looked romantic, and this was merely the beginning of my anniversary surprise for my wife.

After taking one last look at the dinner, I moved on to the next agenda on my perfect romantic plans for her. 

The next thing that took up so much of my time was setting up a trail of several bright Purple Heart-shaped Cherry Blossom candles and rose petals on the floor, from the front door to our bedroom into the bathroom, and on the ledge to intensify the passionate atmosphere.

At one point, some of the candles went off, and I was like, “Fuck this! Why didn't I hire people for the setup."

But then, I remembered I wanted full credit for all of this, so yeah… there is no point in backing out of this now. Yet, it still kind of sucks that I have work in the morning, and I am doing all this work.

Damn, I messed up. But again, Jennie is worth every bit of my sweat, so I moved on to the next task, and got the bath products from around the tub, and replaced them with brand-new ones. 

After filling the bathtub, I took a bouquet I purchased earlier, and when rouged, ripped the petals off and sprinkled them into the water.

And Lastly, I set the atmosphere with some music smoothly playing in the background as the last piece to my passionate bath time plan for my woman.

Jennie and I had not had sex since she left for a work trip, and these months had tested my patience as a man. But I am glad that I don't have to wait for another night to touch her again.

"Shoot, I forgot to slice the fruits.“ These words escaped my lips immediately when my brain recalled that I still had a bag left in the kitchen.

Giving myself no second to waste, I left the bathroom in a hustle and ran inside the kitchen where the fruits were, immediately got a clean plate, and chopped the apple.

As I was slicing the last piece, I overheard the doorbell buzzing, and with intense excitement, assuming it was my wife. I tore into the skin of my finger with the knife by accident and was alert by the pain before the knife struck my bone.

It was a nasty cut and my index finger was bleeding severely, dripping many bloodstains on the kitchen foil, creating an absolute mess of the area within a matter of seconds as I tried to stop the blood.

But despite the pain and the mess, I did not mind and walked out of the kitchen and sped towards the door, putting the bloody finger into my mouth and sucking the cut to make it stop bleeding. 

After months and counting down the days, the moment was finally here. My woman was finally home, and as I unlock the door, I felt an increase in my heartbeat.

But, when I opened the door, to my disappointment, it was the delivery guy who rang the doorbell, and I scoffed, “How can I help you?!“