AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I narrow my eyes, but since I’m hungry, I do sit down and prepare a scone with clotted cream and strawberry jam.
It tastes different, and I think it’s a bit burned, but I chase away that thought. Sam would never burn anything.
“Did she take her medication last night?” I ask after I finish two scones and a croissant in record time.
“For the second time, yes. Is there a reason why you didn’t check on her yourself?”
“She was mad at me.”
“A pattern, apparently.”
“Apparently.”
The real reason is that I needed to put some distance between us. Ava has always spun around my orbit, even when she thought she’d quit me. I’m the addiction that streams in her blood whether she likes it or not, so I can’t give her any fucking ideas.
She’s my responsibility, my wife, and my property. I meant it when I said I could give her anything but love.
And if she keeps demanding that, she’ll be the only one who gets hurt.
Her mindcan’tafford to be hurt.
“How do you like the food?” Sam asks as I swallow a portion of the cake.
“Aside from being sickeningly sweet, it’s acceptable.”
“Then you better show proper gratitude.”
“I pay you as gratitude, Sam.”
She shakes her head. “Follow me.”
Repressing my perplexity, I go with the short woman to the adjoining sitting area.
My confusion slowly clears when I find my wife lying on the sofa, snoring softly while wearing a dirty pink apron. Flour smudges her cheek and three of her fingers are wrapped in plasters.
Sam’s voice carries in the air. “She woke up at the crack of dawn with me and insisted on making you breakfast as long as I’d say I was the one who did it. She burned the first two attempts, but she kept trying to perfect her creations. She begged me not tell you who made the food, because, and I quote, ‘I hate him right now.’ End of quote.”
My lips curve in a smile as I sit on my haunches before her and stroke the plasters on her delicate hands. Hands that weren’t made for cooking or any chores. Ava is her papa’s spoiled princess and the apple of her mother’s eye. Not only that, but she’s adored by her grandparents and was tended to since a young age; therefore, she didn’t even consider learning how to cook.
And yet she chose to make me breakfast.
“If she asked you not to tell me, why did you?” I speak to Sam, but my entire attention is on my wife.
“I find it unfair to take the credit for her effort. Especially since she woke up early despite being the opposite of a morning person. Which is why I believe you should thank her properly.”
“That will only give her ideas.” I reluctantly release her and rise to my full height. “She can’t afford ideas.”
“You’re underestimating her strength.”
“I’m willing to gamble on underestimating instead of overestimating her. We did it before and she ended up in the fucking hospital.”
“It’s different now. Both of you are.”
“Still no.”
Sam sighs. “She’s a good kid, Eli. She cares and she has no qualms about showing it. I know you think she’s only sensitive, but I believe you’re overlooking her hidden strength and stunning self-awareness. She might not break if you tell her the truth.”
“No,” I let out in a clipped tone.
