Beautiful - a very short story

She was getting ready for the wedding. It was a wedding of a distant relative so a lot of known people will be there and surely her close circle will not miss it. She looked at the clock, the visit to the parlour had not gone as planned again. She planned to just do one thing and then succumbing to the stylist she decided to do one more and now she was running late but one look at the mirror told her that it was worth the effort. Now she was rushing to get her clothes just right, the silk sari had come from the dry cleaners earlier, the blouse, the accessories, the jewellery all coordinated and arranged…

She came out and saw him lounging on the sofa with a scowl on his face, one eye on the match and another on the clock. The fact that the match was live was adding another crease to the brow. She noticed that he had changed into a "Friday dressing" shirt and pant and was wearing loafers, the only concession to his work wear. She looked at him for a comment and when nothing came she asked him “How is it?”,  “Nice” was all she got as they rushed to lock up and take the car.

At the venue she got drawn into her circle and he overheard “Nice sari”, “like your hair”,  “who is your tailor”… Driving back she said “You did not say anything about how I looked today, the others said that I looked very nice and they liked my new hair cut”. “Oh! You cut your hair…                                                                                                     

They journeyed in silence.

The next day she slept late, tired from the exertions of the previous night. She was in her old night clothes, her hair a mess, her face creased with sleep.  She felt the kiss and then heard the words “Good morning, beautiful…”

P.S. Eric Clapton may have written this, but...