AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I spy Eli’s dish—some kebab. As I eat, I watch him cutting it into minuscule pieces, but he never brings anything to his mouth. And when he does as if it’s for show, he puts it back down and takes a sip of his drink.
Sam’s words about asking him directly pushes me to blurt out, “Why do you never eat?”
“I always eat. Otherwise, I would’ve expired.”
“You’re human, not a product. What do you mean by expired? Gross.” I scrunch my nose. “Also, I know you eat Sam’s food, but I never see you eating outside.”
“That’s because I don’t.”
“Why do you order, then?”
“To keep up the image.”
“Is there a reason why you can’t have food in restaurants?”
His lips purse before they set in their usual disapproving form. “I don’t trust them.”
“Is this about your OCD? I mean, I think that’s what it is? I don’t want to throw the term around, but you clearly have very distinct symptoms.”
“It’s mild. Self-diagnosed. And yes, it plays a part.”
“And the other part?”
He raises a brow. “What’s with the sudden curiosity?”
“We’re married, Eli. I think we should know some things about each other. Don’t you think?”
“Being married doesn’t come with a free card to demolish each other’s privacy, so no, I don’t think we should know personal things about each other.”
“Well, I do. I refuse to live with a stranger and, therefore, I will keep trying to figure you out. You can tell me yourself or I’ll find out on my own. So can you tell me and save us both some trouble?”
He continues cutting his food, the movements mechanical at best, and I think he’s shut me outside his high walls, but then his deep voice carries in the air. “I was poisoned when I was maybe six. It was some maid who was sent by one of Dad’s rivals to eliminate his only heir. Mum figured out something was wrong in time and drove me to the hospital. I had a gastric lavage thatcleared me out of harm’s way, but after that, I couldn’t eat. My parents tried everything to coax me with my favorite dishes and even junk food, but it didn’t work. After I refused to put anything in my mouth for a few days, the doctors had to pump me with fluids and my parents consulted a child therapist. It didn’t help much and any external force only made me withdraw further into my shell.”
My lips part.
So that’s the reason I’ve never seen him eat. He was traumatized by an event in the past. My heart clenches at the thought of the child version of him being so suspicious of food, he went on self-starvation.
“I’m sorry you went through that.”
“Don’t pity me.”
“I’m not. I’m sympathizing. A concept that’s foreign to you but common to most humans.” I pause. “How did you come out of it?”
“Mum and Sam agreed to make all my meals. Mum tried, but she has zero cooking skills.”
“Aw, bless her.”
He smiles at my smile and it takes all my self-control not to snap a picture and keep it for future reference.
“We should’ve eaten at home,” I say with a note of guilt.
“Why? You wanted to try out this restaurant since you’re a huge fan of Middle Eastern food.”
“Yeah, but not if I’m the only one eating.”
“My situation has nothing to do with your preferences.”
“We’re married, Eli. Your situation affects me whether I like it or not.”
