Chapter 43 Elliot
ELLIOT
For the last week, Daniel had been acting differently.
He was angry, or sad, or maybe both. And while not knowing the exact reason, I did know I was the cause because lately, I’d given him plenty of reasons to hate me.
It started when I didn’t tell him about Claudia or about the man who followed me home.
That led to someone taking pictures of us kissing, and I still had no idea what happened with those photos.
Daniel said he’d handle it, but it had been days, and he hadn’t brought it up again.
I also yelled at him and slapped him, but it was a mistake.
A stupid reaction to the stuff he was saying that morning.
He kept telling me I was sick, and I just snapped.
Either way, slapping him was wrong, and I hurt his feelings.
How did I know? He hugged me less, and at night, we didn’t fall asleep cuddling.
Typically, he’d suffocate me like a bear in his arms, but for the last week, nothing.
We also didn’t have sex. At first, he said it was because of my ankle, but now, when it barely even hurt, he changed his excuse to being too tired.
It was fine, though, because honestly, I didn’t even want to have sex lately.
It almost felt like my whole body was drained.
If in the past a day didn’t go by without me wanting to jump him, recently, I was too tired to even think about it.
But that wasn’t the point, because if Daniel wanted to have sex, I would have done it with him.
I knew a lie when I heard one, so this morning, when he told me everything was fine, I knew for a fact that nothing was. And after he left for work without kissing me goodbye, I understood something.
I have to make him forgive me.
One of the first things my maman taught me in life was that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.
I lived by that rule, and when I first invited Daniel for a meal as a treat for giving me a ride?
Yeah, it was no coincidence. I knew I wanted that man the second I laid my eyes on him and had no problem using the oldest trick in the book to get him.
So… if it worked then, why shouldn’t it work now?
Tightening the apron around my waist, I looked at the ingredients spread before me. I planned a full-on three-course meal that would be so good he’d have to forgive me, simply because he’d be too full to hold in any anger.
I washed my hands and got to work, starting by cutting and slicing all of my vegetables.
But after not cooking for almost two years, either it’d become a hell of a lot harder, or I’d gotten rusty.
Either way, I did my best, and six hours later, I’d cooked enough food to feed a whole family of ten, or just one hungry Daniel.
Done filling the last chouquette, I put away my piping bag and looked down at the tray of freshly baked choux stuffed with cream.
I think these are the best chouquettes I’ve ever baked.
They looked parfaites and hopefully would taste just as good.
After putting them away, I placed the remaining cream in the fridge right next to the chocolate éclairs I’d made earlier, then bent down to check on my Saint Honoré.
The majestic cake would be tonight’s queen, and I was positive Daniel would ask me to marry him after tasting it.
It was simply that delicious. I might have baked a lot of desserts for tonight, but Daniel had what the Americans called a sweet mouth.
Or was it sweet teeth? The point was, my bebé loved sweets, and tonight would be all about that.
After cleaning the kitchen, all I had left to do was wait until evening came.
So, proud and satisfied, I slumped down on our living room couch and turned on the TV.
There would be several more hours before Daniel was back home, and after working in the kitchen, I deserved to rest. Recently, I’d been feeling extra tired, but I blamed it on the lack of work.
Vito had given me a few days off to heal, and since Daniel was extremely annoying about my jogging, I also didn’t run.
Or at least, that was what I kept telling him.
It wasn’t a complete lie, because I only went out for two, maybe three, runs while he was at work.
But it was really nothing serious, and he was making a big deal out of nothing.
I huffed, thinking back on how silly he was for getting so scared that day.
I placed my hand flat on my stomach and looked down.
I’m not even that skinny.
With a sigh, I closed my eyes and got comfortable on the couch, enjoying the warm afternoon sun that came in from the window.
Its warmth reminded me of the Amalfi Coast, and I was counting the days until our upcoming trip next month.
I sure hoped Daniel and I would make up by then.
Without noticing, I dozed off, only to be awakened by the sound of the phone ringing.
Perking up, I looked around the empty condo as the phone kept on going. One glance at the window told me I’d slept for too long, as well as the dry drool on my chin. The annoying ringing kept on, and I thought of not picking up when the call went to the answering machine.
“Ciao, bello, it is me, Vito—”
Realizing who it was, I practically jumped up and ran to get it. Reaching forward, I snatched the phone, almost making the rest of the items on the counter fall, and picked it up.
“All?? Vito?”
“Keeping me waiting, I see,” he chuckled.
I gasped, cleaning the drool from my chin. “No, no, I was just… huh, taking a shower.”
“Mhmm, that explains it all. You are forgiven, then, for making Vito wait.” He clicked his tongue. “Anyway, I’m leaving for Milan tonight, but I thought we could meet before I do. Okay? Okay.”
My lips stretched into a big smile, and I nodded. “Oui. Yes. Please.”
“Please order anything you want. It’s my treat,” Vito said in French.
“I already ate at home.”
He glanced at me from behind his menu, eyes narrowed. “Did you?”
Reaching for my water glass, I took a long sip and nodded. “Yes. I mean, I wouldn’t have if I knew we were meeting.”
He smiled at me when a waiter came to our table.
“Are you ready to order?”
“I’ll have a cappuccino,” he said in English.
“You can eat if you want to—”
“It’s all good, bello,” Vito insisted before handing over his menu. “But do me a favor, and don’t burn the milk, okay? Coffee shouldn’t be served boiled,” he told the waiter, who nodded while writing it down, then left us alone.
“Are you sure you don’t want to eat? Now I feel bad.”
“Of course I am, bello.” He switched back to French, making it easier for me. “Besides, I’ll be visiting my sister tonight, so it’s better I save room for her food.” He laughed while pulling out a cigarette case from his bag. Opening the golden case, he took out two cigarettes, offering me one.
Taking it, I leaned forward as he lit it for me.
Since we were sitting outside, smoking was no issue, and after blowing out the smoke, I watched it disappear into the air.
“Are you close to your sister?”
“Which one of them?” He blew out smoke. “’Cause there are five.”
I gaped at him, my brows rising. “Seriously? So many?”
Proud, he nodded. “We’re a big family. I also have three more brothers.”
“That’s amazing.”
He cocked his head forward. “How about you? Any siblings?”
“Only one.”
“Pretty like you?”
“He’s much better-looking,” I said, thinking of my brother and how long it had been since I last saw him.
Vito huffed. “I doubt it.” He flicked some ash into the ashtray between us. “Anyway. How’s your ankle?”
I glanced down at my foot, moving it a bit.
“It’s much better. I can hardly feel any pain now.”
“That’s good.”
The waiter arrived with Vito’s coffee, placing it before him. Vito twisted his lips, then turned the mug so the handle would face the side and not him.
“Much better.” He smiled to himself.
Thinking now would be a good time to apologize again, I cleared my throat. “I know I already said it, but I’m so sorry for ruining your show—”
Vito snorted, shaking his head while putting the coffee down. “All you did was give me a good laugh, bello. Watching your fall, well, I was the one who told you to wow them, wasn’t I?”
My cheeks heated up, and to avoid the embarrassment, I scratched behind my ear. “Well, it wasn’t one of my best moments.”
“We all fall, bello. And when we fall, it’s better to make it big.” Bringing the tip of the cigarette to his lips, he winked at me, then took a long inhale.
He truly is so kind.
“But since you brought it up.” He blew out the smoke. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh?”
Then, despite having about half a cigarette left, he stubbed it out in the ashtray. I didn’t want to part ways with mine, so instead, I smoked it faster as he straightened in his chair.
“I’ll be honest, Elliot… I’m worried about you.”
My heart began to race faster, and I smiled at him nervously.
“W-why?” Waiting for his answer, I took a long puff, then another one.
“I know how demanding this industry can get at times, bello, I really do.” His lips formed a thin smile full of pity. “And lately, it looks like it’s getting to you.”
I shook my head while using my thumb to flick the ash into my water glass. “I don’t know what you mean.” My fingers trembled as I brought the cigarette to my lips and took a long inhale. “I’m fine.” I exhaled the smoke, avoiding Vito’s eyes while I did.
“Are you really?”