Love, Dahlia

Dahlia was the most beautiful being I had ever seen.

The first time I laid eyes on her, I could only describe her as someone I had always been looking for. Everything about her was perfect in every sense – the way her hair framed her face, the tinge of red painting her lips, her deep-set eyes that always glimmered with something alluring.

My friends often asked me how I even ended up with someone like her. I said I didn’t know. Even now, at times, I’ll catch myself staring at her and think – man, how did I ever get her to give me a second glance?

Dahlia was always open with me about whatever she was feeling. I would like to think we’re not one of those couples who struggle with communication. She told me she didn’t like the amount of girls I was still in touch with from my college years. I can’t for the life of me understand how someone as downright stunning as her would have something to feel insecure about. And I told her that, but cut ties with them anyway.

I told her I was going to meet up with a couple of friends once. I think it was Rochelle who brought up the idea. Something like a reunion at her house to catch up over drinks. I hadn’t seen any of them since our college graduation, but we stayed in touch. We spoke over text when we could, especially when Dahlia and I hard launched our relationship on our socials.

The day I left for the reunion, I don’t think Dahlia was home to see me off. She showed up at Rochelle’s house an hour later. At first, I was confused but pleased to see her. Then I was alarmed. She didn’t say anything, just walked up to Rochelle and ripped a chunk of her hair clean off her scalp. I immediately took her home.

I was concerned and a little panicked, but she reassured me she had only gone that far because she was protective of me – because she loved me. And I believed her.

She would always tell me she never wanted me to love any other girl as much as I loved her, not that I imagined I ever could. I wasn’t exactly a modern-day Casanova with enough wit and charm to bend people to my will. It almost flattered me that she thought I could ever be something of the sort. Regardless, she made me promise I would never love someone if it wasn’t her. Of course, I promised. I wanted her to know I loved her.

And I knew she loved me.

It’s been years since then, and we watched our lives unravel just as we had planned. I proposed to Dahlia at the start of the spring season and we married by the end of it.

Our baby girl was born just at the start of last year. We spent New Year's Eve at the hospital and little Hadley was brought into a new world and a new year. She’s grown a lot since that faithful day at the hospital. Ever curious and always bursting with joy, she was the best thing to ever happen to me. The first time I bought her a watercolour palette, she painted articulate squiggles with her chubby fingers and handed her masterpiece to me proudly. When she said it was a portrait of me, I said it was like looking in a mirror. We framed that painting and it still hangs in the hallway to this day.

Hadley had only gotten more radiant over the past year, her intelligence already exceeding most others of her age. She was everything I could have asked for. Not to mention she was every bit as beautiful as her mother. And I loved her with all my heart.

I smiled at the thought of that as I huddled in the corner of the room with my daughter. My wife’s deafening screech rang through my ears as she violently shook the door, twisting the knob, and pounding on the worn-out wood that was slowly starting to crack.

But…she’s only upset because she loves me. I know she does.