by A. E. Murphy
“I vote Salmon!” Patience adds excitedly and together we work on a new menu, unbiased and happy.
In the end we decided on Salmon. This new menu is going to be the best one yet.
When I awake the next morning I call Jeanine and speak to the kids. Luckily for me she can have them again, but only until the morning. This is great as it means I’m set for the evening, but what am I going to do long term? Nathan and I really need to find a common ground here.
Gwen: We need to talk.
His response is immediate and floods me with relief.
Nathan: When?
Gwen: 1pm?
Nathan: I’ll be there.
Well that’s something. Now I just need to list my grievances so we can at least try to stay on track. I really hope he doesn’t start being bitter and insulting again. I hate that; it enrages me and hurts me all the same. I find myself wanting to spit back vile things that I’d never normally say in a bid to hurt him. My self-control is better than that.
I’m better than that. I won’t stoop so low. I won’t hurt him like everybody else has done in his life. I just wish he’d honour me the same.
As I tidy the house, deciding to use what little portion of freedom I have to get my many chores done, there’s a knock at the door.
I drop my rubber gloves onto the worktop and smooth my shirt down. I notice orange marks across the white fabric, all caused by splashes of bleach. Am I the only one with cleaning clothes? Surely I can’t be.
“Just a second,” I call as I rinse my arms and hands.
The person, whomever it may be, doesn’t knock again and I hope they haven’t left. I’m far too curious. Maybe Nathan is early? That wouldn’t surprise me. It’s only half an hour and I don’t mind. I know what I want to say and the sooner we get past this the better.
As I walk to the door, I pull my messy hair bun a bit tighter to my head. The tendrils at the back tickle my neck as one errant lock at the front falls across my nose. I blow it out of the way just as I pull the door open, keeping my face stoic in preparation for Nathan to enter. Is it so wrong that I don’t want him to see how upset I am?
The breeze hits me almost as fast as the shock at seeing Kerim standing on my doorstep, a box in his hands.
“I come with cake!” He raises the box a little higher and gives me a handsome smile that I’m unused to seeing.
Except for when we went for dinner, I’ve never seen him out of his uniform. Light blue jeans and a grey polo suit him. He looks younger and more at ease than usual. His hair is messier too but in a nice way, not a lazy way.
“Come in,” I blurt after an awkward pause. My wits finally gather and I motion for him to enter. “Please ignore the state of me, I’ve been cleaning the kitchen.”
“Not to worry,” he grins, looking around my cosy little home. “Where are your babies? With their father?”
“With a friend,” I respond and lead him into the kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I would love chai.”
“Black tea it is,” I grin, knowing what chai is. “Though I only have PG; is that okay?”
“Perfect.” He places the box onto the breakfast bar. “May I use your kitchen as my own?”
“Of course.” If somebody had told me two years ago that my favourite chef would be making himself at home in my kitchen, I’d have tapped them on the head to check for a brain. This is unreal. Even though I work for the man, I’m a little bit star struck. “Anything you need in particular?”
“Plates and forks.” He finds my favourite oval shaped presentation plate as I’m boiling the kettle. “Make yourself a chai or coffee too. This cake has to be eaten with a hot drink.”
He reveals the caramel coloured cake. It looks like a simple sponge covered with almonds but I know that it’ll be far from simple. My stomach growls hungrily.
“I’m sure you’re not just here to ply me with tea and cake,” I comment as he slices the rectangular shaped sponge into squares. He places them onto the plate, piling them neatly before setting them directly into the centre of the surface.
“Here.” He suddenly appears beside me and takes the almost boiled kettle. Watching as he pours a small amount of water into our cups, swirls the teabags around the bottom and then dumps the water into the sink before clicking the boil on the kettle again. “Always wash the teabags first or they get such a metallic taste to them.”
“I’ve never noticed but I usually drink coffee.”
Flashing his teeth at me, he helps me finish the drinks and then pulls out a bar stool for me to sit on. One would think this was his house, not my own. I feel like such a blundering idiot in comparison to his ease and grace in my own kitchen. “As for my visit, I’m here simply as a friend. Out of concern and because I enjoy your company.”
“Oh. Concern?”
“Yes, I’ve noticed recently that you’ve not seemed yourself. Your early visit yesterday has been testament to that.”
“So it was a problem?”
“Not at all.” His hand covers my wrist as my hand grips the handle of my cup. “Eat the cake; it’s one of my best.”
I do as I’m told, hungry for the first time in over a day and sip my tea as I swallow. “It’s lovely.”
“Thank you.” He looks around my kitchen. “As is your home. It feels so warm and full of love in comparison to my third floor, one bedroom apartment.”
“Home is what we make of it.”
“Something my mother tells me.” He gets such a look of love to his eyes that a lesser woman would have swooned.
“Do your parents live in London? I’ve not seen them in the restaurant.”
“They do, but they’re visiting my sister in Turkey for a few months.”
“I bet you miss them.”
“Surprisingly, I miss my mother’s cooking.”
This definitely makes me smile. “Is she better at it than you?”
“I learned a lot from her but not enough. When she comes back I’ll take you to her house for dinner.”
Blinking, I stammer, “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Not at all, you can’t intrude in a Turkish household. We love guests.” He sips his own tea and takes a large bite out of a cake square. “So, how are you and why have you not been yourself lately?”
I wasn’t prepared for his question any more than I was prepared for his visit. Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I try to lie. “I’m fine. I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Of course.” He places his hand on my wrist again and dips his head to draw my eyes to his. “But if you need an ear, I’ll give you mine. I’m only an away call.”
His language muddling makes me giggle. Unfortunately it makes me giggle right as Nathan steps into the kitchen, takes one look at us sitting at the breakfast bar sipping tea and eating cake and reacts in a way I never would have thought him capable of.
A scream rips from my chest and my hand flies to my mouth when Nathan grabs Kerim by his collar and shoves him up against our American style fridge. Magnets fall to the ground, clattering around their feet.
“Nathan!” I yell in horror. “What are you doing?”
“Me?” He releases Kerim who calmly smoothes himself down. I step to his side, wanting to apologise profusely. “What are you doing?”
“I feel my presence may be causing offence,” Kerim sighs, shaking his head and frowning at Nathan. “But I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone with a man in clearly such a state of distress.”
“This is insane,” I hiss, grabbing Nathan’s arm and ripping him backwards. I put myself between the two of them and glare at my fiancé. “Are you crazy?”
“Are you?” He asks, his eyes swimming with hurt. “Did you plan this?”
“You think that little of me?”
“I showed up unannounced,” Kerim states, raising his chin indignantly.
“Do you make a habit of showing up at the houses of your staff unannounced?” Nathan tries to step towards the man a
t my back but my hand on his chest stops him. I honestly can’t believe this is happening.
“Yes,” Kerim steps forward too and my arm presses against his chest. “When I feel as though they’re going through something, that’s exactly what I do. I never imagined it could be this.”
“How chivalrous.” His sarcasm isn’t lost on either of us. Nathan growls in response so I push harder against his chest.
“I am so sorry, Kerim.” I turn to him and bite my lip. “Nathan’s not himself right now.”
“You’re kidding?” Nathan breathes. “You’re apologising for me?”
“You need to calm down or I won’t talk with you,” I yell, willing myself to calm down. I take a breath and look at the man on my left. “Kerim, I really appreciate your visit but I have things to… solve.”
“Of course,” Kerim whispers and pinches my chin between his finger and thumb. “I apologise for the intrusion. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“She’ll be fine,” Nathan snarls and I feel him tense with anger. “Just leave us.”
Kerim ignores him as I lead him to the door and thank him for the cake and apologise once more. He asks me if I’ll be okay and I assure him that I will be, before shutting the door after him. I take a few heavy breaths to calm myself. I want to throw things at Nathan. I want to scream at him. I don’t. Part of me knows that it won’t do any good and I know I’ll feel worse afterwards.
“Before you open your mouth,” I tell him, my voice deceptively calm as my fiery gaze catches his, “and say something that’ll never earn you my forgiveness on top of your physical assault on my boss.” At my words his eyes soften and a muscle in his jaw tics. “Let’s take a moment to calm down before beginning this conversation. Okay?”
“Why can’t you see that he wants you?” He asks, his tone one of exasperation.
“Oh my God,” I laugh, my tone more exasperated than his. “Are we ever going to get past this?”
“I want to,” Nathan whispers and rushes to me. “I want to stop feeling like this. When I’m not with you I make myself all of these promises that I’ll be different, that I’ll be able to trust with all of my heart, but… I just…” His hand threads into the back of my hair as the other one goes to my hip. “I can’t get the images of you and him together… you and any man.”
“That’s not fair on me.”
“I know.” He kisses my forehead and inhales deeply. “It’s my issue that I need to deal with. That’s just so much easier said than done.”
“It really isn’t. The sooner you take that leap of faith, the easier it becomes.”
“Gwen,” he whispers and slides his hand from my hair to cup my jaw. “I love you, with all of my heart, and before your aversion to us getting married, I did trust you, but,” he pauses and looks away. “Ever since you started postponing the planning of our marriage, I’ve been waiting for you to leave.”
“I’ve just not been ready to marry you yet. I don’t understand why you’ve felt as though we need to rush into it.”
“Because I love you.”
“Marrying me won’t stop me from cheating on you!” I snatch his hand away from my jaw and place it against my chest. “Only I can stop that and you need to trust in my love for you as I trust in your love for me.”
“I know that, okay?” Pulling away, he turns and looks at himself in the mirror. “I feel like with every passing day I become more desperate to keep you, despite the fact I know it’s wrong.”
“It’ll ruin us.”
“Hasn’t it already?”
“No,” I murmur and see the hope in his eyes come but then leave swiftly when I add, “The lying has. I could have worked past the fact you don’t trust me; I could have helped you with that. I can’t forgive the lying.”
“Gwen…”
“It’s all another form of distrust.” I shrug, feeling my eyes sting. “You don’t trust me enough with your inner thoughts.”
“So what happens now?” He asks softly, so softly a tear falls from my eye.
“You need to find somewhere else to live,” I respond and when his face crumples with pain it takes everything I have to not mirror it.
“You’re kicking me out? For real?” He asks, his voice cracking.
“Yes.”
“But…” His hands push through the front of his hair. “I can change.”
“Prove it.”
“How can I prove it if you’re forcing me to leave?”
“I don’t know, Nathan. I just know that I can’t live with a man who spits venomous words to hurt me while his mind deteriorates from a fictitious belief that I’m going to leave him for my boss.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s hardly fictitious when that man wants you.”
“You’re just not getting it. This is hopeless.”
“It’s not hopeless; how can you say such a thing?”
“Maybe you were right,” I whisper and move into the kitchen. My throat is dry so I down the rest of my tea.
“About what?”
“About us never concluding what happened. We just threw ourselves into a relationship with so much lingering between us.”
“I was angry. I said many things I should never have said.”
“That doesn’t mean you were wrong.” I rub my eyes and then tug on my bleach stained shirt. “I love you but I feel like it’s never enough because you constantly question it.”
“Do you have any idea how frustrating it is knowing that you work in close quarters every single day with a man that wants you? A man that I know gets whatever he wants when he sets his sights on it.”
“You’re being…”
He interrupts, pressing his chest to mine and holding my biceps with his hands. “A man who is far better suited to you than I ever will be.” My lower back presses against the sideboard as he keeps his body tighter to mine. “Do you know how that feels?”
“Why don’t you talk to Kerim? Clear the air? I can only promise you that I’d never cheat on you. I can’t put your mind at ease with how he’s feeling because I can’t control that.”
He seems to stop breathing for the longest moment before he nods. “Fine. I’ll call him.”
“Just don’t bring me into it anymore.”
“I won’t,” he promises, but his lack of trust has rubbed off on me. I don’t believe him at all. “Give me another chance, Gwen. Let me come home.”
“No,” I reply adamantly. “For now I think it’s best for both of us and the kids to separate.”
“I refuse to lose you.”
“Then show me you can change.”
“I will,” he assures me and kisses the tip of my nose. “I promise I will.” His lips touch mine softly. “Starting this second.”
I really hope he means it. “Until then, we need to schedule our work rotas to make it so the kids have constant care.”
“So I still can’t come home?”
“No.”
“But…” He stops his argument and sighs heavily. “Fine. I understand. Where are the kids now?”
“With Jeanine.”
“Good, they love her.”
I smile softly and move from between him and the counter. “Is it so wrong that I want a drama free relationship?”
“No, I want that too.”
“Then we’re on the same page.” I smile and clear the mess from the counter. “I just hope it’s a reachable goal.”
“It is.”
“I have every hope.” Then I add. “We also have the matter of your mother to discuss.”
“Let’s tackle that another day.” He winces and helps to clear up. “For now let’s celebrate this small victory with a coffee and a movie?”
“I’ll not allow her to visit with my children until we’ve discussed it.”
“That’s fine, she knows.” He’s spoken to her since then I’m guessing. This annoys me but I don’t let it show. “Maybe we can all sit down together and work something out?”
“Maybe.” I
give a little. “That doesn’t dismiss anything you did, though.”
“I know.” He steps into my space and slides his warm, large hands down my sides. My body shivers without permission and my throat dries as other places moisten. When his lips touch my neck and kiss a gentle path down to my shoulder, that shiver turns into a shudder and my knees become weak. “I’m sorry.”
His hand that rested on my hip slips under the waistband of my trousers and begins to tease as his other hand moves to grasp my breast.
“Nathan,” I whimper, my strength waning, not that I have tried to push him away at all. No matter how mad I am with him, he knows exactly how to torment my body to the point of no return.
“Shh,” he hisses in my ear and then takes the lobe in between his teeth.
Groaning, my head falls back onto his shoulder. He grinds against me powerfully. I feel his erection and pray that he relieves me of my trousers and slips into me so slowly as his leather clad fingers tease me to the brink of orgasm.
“That’s it,” he whispers, kissing my neck. “Let me make you feel good.”
“God,” I moan, wrapping my fingers around his wrist. “I want you.”
“No telling me twice,” he pants as the belt of his trousers clicks free. I hear it thread through the metal loop before his fingers part my folds and seek out my entrance. “Are you sure?”
“What?” I breathe as he taps against me.
“I know you don’t like doing it when we’re mad.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I cry. “Just do it already!”
He doesn’t hesitate another moment before he’s filling me and I’m sighing with relief. The orgasm I receive simply by the fullness makes me spasm so badly he has to hold me up.
“This way,” he whispers and walks me to the breakfast bar.
I squeal when he bends me over it, pressing my chest to the hard surface.
“I thought I’d never feel this again,” he admits, moving to a soft rhythm.
With more speed and power he keeps going, driving me over the edge more times than I can count. It seems to go on forever yet it doesn’t last long enough. Before I know it, he’s collapsing onto my back, crying out with his own release and I’m squirming beneath him, needing to breathe.