Kwame typed a few words on his phone and hit the send button. He smirked at himself, and gently dropped the phone on the table. As he lifted his cold glass of alcohol to his lips, he stole a glance at the couple happily giggling away in one corner of the restaurant. At such a time of the night and at such a place notorious for cheating mates, there was little to suspect about them. They looked exceptionally comfortable in each other’s presence. No looks over the shoulder. No attempts to hide from any probing eyes about them. The legitimacy of the relationship gave off a fragrance stronger than the combination of his cologne and her perfume. Still with a smirk on his face, Kwame gently placed the glass on the table and swallowed the cool liquid. He smacked his lips in acknowledgement of the sharp taste of Mandingo fuelling the apathy which continued to burn up his despondency.
“Why can we not be this happy? Why?” he whispered to himself. He continued to watch them. The man reached into his suit pocket and drew out a ringing Smartphone. He raised a finger to the lady; A plea for her to excuse his talking on the phone. She simply nodded her approval and reached for her own phone from within the large handbag by her chair. When the light on the screen turned on and illuminated her pretty face, she frowned sharply and rapidly tapped at her screen with both thumbs. Just as the man got off his phone, she simultaneously dropped hers in her bag.
Kwame lifted his now half-empty glass to his lips and emptied the remaining alcohol into his system. When he returned the empty glass to the table and refocused on the couple, their forearms rested on the table and their fingers were shackled together. The man unrestrained his hands and drew the lady’s hands to his lips; He gracefully planted his lips on her knuckles. Kwame smiled at this and furtively lifted his phone. He turned off the flash tool, focused his camera lens on the couple and tapped the snapshot icon just as the man drew his lips away from the lady’s hand. They hadn’t noticed him.
Kwame stood up from his seat. As he did, his phone beeped with the much delayed reply to his earlier message. It simply read: Kinda busy. Will call you later. “My Stacey… my Stacey,” Kwame mumbled to himself. He sniggered quietly and walked out of the restaurant. He stepped into his car, checked his phone to make sure he still had the picture of the couple at the restaurant: He still did.
He started his engine, but before he drove off, he shared the couple’s image with Stacey and typed an accompanying message to her: Ok, sure. But don’t bother, really. I’ll hate to stop him from kissing those beautiful hands again… Lol.