From the minute the photographers had started clicking away at us during the Miss Uganda event, I had known the images were going to turn up in the local press.
That much was expected what I hadn’t expected was that the pictures would run so soon, and with such negative reports. Chris and I both slept in later than we usually did the following morning as C.G. had woken up the minute we had returned home, and despite our best efforts, had failed to go back to sleep for hours.
I suspected that all the excitement of the evening had a lot to do with his restlessness, but not being in the mood for an argument, I did not voice my suspicions to Chris, and instead made love to him once C.G. finally fell asleep. Although our relationship had improved drastically since I had “recovered”, Chris was, nonetheless, surprised by my sexual aances.
It was as though a part of him knew that I was no longer attracted to him in that way, and therefore did not understand why I was making the moves I was. It was just as well I didn’t know what the truth would do to him, or to us for that matter. The truth being that I was simply using his body to distract me from the disappointment I had felt at not having seen Greg at the pageant.
We were woken up the following morning by an urgent pounding at the front door. Snuggling deeper into the blankets, Chris nudged me: “Find out who it is, and tell whoever it is to f*** off.”
“Ha! I’m sure it’s one of your friends so, you go ask them to take a walk!” I retorted, and when he made no move to get up, and the pounding continued, I elbowed him. “Go on, before whoever it is wakes up C.G.”
“Oh hell,” he grumbled, but nonetheless got up, and pulling on a pair of jeans, headed out to the living room.
Moments later, I heard him open up the front door, and then recognized the voice of one of his friends from around the neighbourhood asking: “Have you checked out the story in this paper yet?”
“Andrew, for goodness sake, you’ve just dragged me out of bed, of course I haven’t checked out the papers yet. What are they saying this time?”
“You need to read it yourself.”
Something about the tone of Andrew’s voice made it clear that whatever it was, the article he was referring to was not complimentary, and dreading whatever it might be, yet knowing I needed to see it as well, I too got out of bed, and headed to the bathroom to freshen up.
I emerged a few minutes later, and dressed hurriedly in the first thing I came across, which happened to be an old pair of jogging pants, and a T-shirt, before going to join Chris and Andrew in the living room.
Although I usually ensured that I was extremely presentable before I met any guests, knowing that most of them had a preconceived idea of what a “celebrity’s partner,” was meant to look like, this morning I could not be bothered, especially with the lurking anxiety I had over what the paper might hold.
“Hi, Andrew,” I greeted our guest, and then turned to Chris: “I couldn’t help but overhear you two. What does the article say?”
“There’s the paper,” he indicated a local tabloid on the coffee table, folded open at a page with the headline “Chris and Stephanie take baby son to Miss Uganda”.
With the cold feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach beginning to spread to the rest of my body, I slowly sat down, and began reading the article.
Although such events are usually reserved for those that are eighteen and above, celebrities like Chris and his long-term partner Stephanie, clearly have their own set of rules, as they had their baby son, who only recently celebrated his first birthday with an all-night bash, in tow at the Miss Uganda grand finale.
They apparently didn’t consider the loud music, chilly night, or smoky backstage area, enough of a deterrent to bringing the toddler along for one of the year’s social highlights. Quite clearly, nothing is going to get in the way of this couple’s wild party lifestyle, not even their only son.
Source : The Observer