Chapter 10
Surprises haven’t stopped for a few days. I’ve received one after another, and it seems it isn’t going to stop anytime soon.
“What… what is it?” I ask fearfully, bracing myself for him to come out with a conspiracy or something like that.
Lionel takes a deep breath and points in front of us. “Do you see the bed right there?” he tells me; duh, I’m not blind, it would be impossible not to see it. “Well, it’s the only one in this house. We can definitely fix that tomorrow, but tonight it’s the only place available to sleep.”
The same ol’ tale that has been told a thousand times. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Men are so predictable…
Lionel might be thinking that just because I’m here and he wants to, I’m going to sleep with him. But he’s very wrong. As handsome as he is, I’m stronger than the attraction that pulls me to him with such force—gravity and need.
As I said before, cordial coexistence doesn’t mean we are now friends with benefits.
Instead, we are spouses without benefits. He lost them when he told me so many lies, he still has a long way to go before he can redeem himself in my eyes.
“The couch in the other room seems pretty comfy,” I reply.
“Stella, don’t be silly, that thing has been with me since my college days,” he refutes. “It’s full of holes and bumps, you aren’t going to sleep well there. Believe me, I’ve tried it before.”
No, sirree.
“And then why haven’t you thrown it away?” I question. “Lionel, I know we are still married, but I’m not sleeping with you…”
He raises his hands, defending himself. Damn, why does he have to be so handsome?
Much has changed, yet so much remains the same. Lionel is a gorgeous man and knows how to use it to his advantage.
I have to be strong because our problems are only just beginning.
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” he tells me. “I’m not assuming anything. Look, the bed is wider than America. We can put some pillows in the middle and that’s it, each one sleeps on a different side of the Mississippi.”
As I said before, this man is an expert at getting his way… Especially with that innocent face.
“Look, you can sleep in Kentucky, and I’ll be here in California.”
“Oh no… the chicken,” I squeak, remembering I left it in the fryer. I need to be careful, or it will end up all dry and over cooked.
I run down the stairs like the whole house is on fire and the laughter I hear behind me doesn’t go unnoticed, accompanied by his words spoken in that hoarse voice, “Saved by the bell.”
Just my luck, the fried chicken is a long way from ready, so I take care of putting the pie in the oven, no, I’m not Wonder Woman. I didn’t make this one, this is one that Lionel’s housekeeper made.
“I’ll set the table,” he announces, walking into the kitchen. I’m not buying his I-am-a-good-boy act. This man is as dangerous as a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Do we have a table?” I question but he doesn’t reply, he just smiles as he searches for the silverware in the drawer.
Half an hour later, as the sun is going down, we are sitting outside on a wooden platform on the farthest side of the patio. We had to walk back and forth several times to bring our dinner here, but it was worth it.
“Look, it’s my very own authentic version of Kentucky Fried Chicken specially made for me.”
“Don’t be an ass,” I reply, although it makes me smile. A regular dinner, finally!
The atmosphere is romantic and seductive, we didn’t turn the lamps on, so our little corner is only lit by the rays of the sun setting on the horizon and a couple garden lights.
“This is perfect,” I say, contemplating the colors painted across the sky and melting into the sea. “Beautiful.”
“Beautiful, indeed,” he replies, but he isn’t looking west at the sunset. Lionel has his eyes fixed on me.
For a moment I don’t know what else to say, until I remember the place where we are eating.
“Did you send someone to buy the table?” Because earlier when I was out here, there was nothing.
He laughs, wiping his mouth on the napkin. “I’m not that impulsive, Stella,” he replies. “The table was there, in the pool cabana, I just asked for it to be brought here. I thought you would enjoy the view.”
Lionel points across the pool. The construction is simple and follows the same design as the rest of the house, a roof supported by gray wooden pillars with white molding.
“Thank you,” I really mean it, it’s a nice touch.
Again, I’m surprised at how much Lionel has changed these past few days. On the outside, he looks the same, still as attractive as a tattooed devil, however, his behavior is so different. The way he moves his hands, the way he looks at me, and talks to me. The way he smiles at me.
This is messing with my head. With my heart too.
People aren’t like stereos where you can just hit skip to the next song, how can someone change so much overnight?
Despite my questions, I really like this switch.
It’s easy to talk to this Lionel. He talks less and listens more. He pays attention to the things I say to him, making me feel understood.
“When are you planning on taking the SATs?” There he goes again, another question that catches me off guard.
“I don’t know.” That’s the truth. “I have to check online for the calendar, but sometimes my phone freezes. If I had brought my laptop, it would have been easier. I still have time to figure it out. The real question is where am I going to take it, here or back home?”
Home, I don’t even know where that is anymore.
“I thought we’d decided you would stay.” His posture is relaxed, leaning against the chair, and his legs stretched out before him, but he doesn’t fool me, his intense gaze is looking for answers. Not by my words, but inside me.
Danger , screams a voice inside my head.
“Lionel, we agreed that we were going to try and fix this,” I correct him, pointing between us. “And I don’t know if that’s possible.”
That statement left a bitter taste in my mouth, I’m not one to give up so easily. A marriage is between two people, so the decision can’t just be mine.
“Why are you still wearing the band on your finger?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Because it’s the symbol of a promise I made, Lionel, maybe it doesn’t mean anything to you. But I promised to love, respect, and honor you every day of my life.”
The asshole has the audacity to smile, knowing he just made a point.
“And all I’m asking is for you to honor that promise.”
Lionel might be an excellent architect, but I’m sure he’d make an even better lawyer.
“I think you’ve lost the right to demand that those promises be kept when you were the one who broke them. You broke the bonds keeping us together.”
Lionel lets out a defeated sigh, closes his eyes, and gets ready. I know he’s preparing a good counterargument.
“I’m not demanding anything from you,” he whispers. Although his voice is low, the power behind those words doesn’t go unnoticed. “I’ve asked, which is different, and may I remind you, you already agreed to stay.”
“I also told you, I would try.”
“Then try,” he insists. “But really try.”
Again a request that goes straight to my soul, like an arrow.
“At the end, I’ll choose what to do. I’m tired of always giving in to make you happy.”
We are both silent, dinner has been forgotten, like the sun that has set on the horizon.
“I asked you to try because I want a clean slate, Stella,” he declares. “I want you to forgive and forget what I said or did in the past. Close your eyes for a moment and tell me what you want, what you expect, where you want to go from here.”
And I do just that. I close my eyes and think about my hopes, my dreams, and the goals I’ve set for myself.
“I want to be different,” is my sincere response. “I want to be more than the expectations of others.”
Lionel rests his elbows on the table and his chin on his fist.
“Something tells me you already are.”
“Excuse me?” What the hell does that mean?
“I just said that you already are, more than that, you’re unique.”
I have to think twice before answering. “If this is another one of your tricks to get me into bed with you, you’re wasting your time.”
A bright smile turns his lips up, almost dulling the stars shining over us.
“And where do you plan to sleep tonight?”
I take a piece of biscuit and throw it at him with precise accuracy that I hit him right on the bridge of his nose.
“You know what I mean.”
“It’s just for tonight,” he assures. “We’ll figure out something tomorrow.”
“You better, or you’ll end up sleeping on the sofa. Injured or not.”
He chuckle, and the hoarse sound makes me do the same.
“You’re dangerous with that pretty good-girl face, Stella. Anyone who doesn’t know you might take you for a meek little lamb.”
As I said before, this lamb has grown stronger, and now has the strength needed to defend herself.
Although, it’s by only sheer determination.
For now.
???
I put my hair up in a messy bun on top of my head before putting the leftovers away from dinner. Watching Lionel rinse the plates and load them in the dishwasher is so weird, it seems the Pacific breeze has changed a lot of Lionel’s personality. More than I’d expected.
“Is something wrong?”
“Why do you ask?” I reply as I run the soapy sponge over the granite countertop.
He looks at me with raised eyebrows, clearly waiting for me to elaborate.
“It’s just unbelievable that you’re helping me, and you’re doing it with just one arm.”
I know he’s bored of having to function with restrictions, several times he has been close to throwing the sling out the window.
“Real men aren’t afraid to do the dishes.” His response leaves me speechless.
I have no words.
Lionel notices but doesn’t push any further, he just continues scrubbing pans. I’m busy thinking about what we talked about on the terrace.
The goals I hope to achieve.
First, I need to study for the mother of all tests, then college while still running my business. After that, open my online store, reach new customers, and find a way to expand to increase my sales. Not only that, I have to research if I need a permit or license to sell my soaps nationwide, as well as calculate the cost for free swag, packaging, shipping, and taxes.
And beyond that—beyond the woman who succeeds with her business. Who do I want to be as a person?
What does Stella Annabel expect of herself?
Happiness. It’s the first thing that comes to mind, we all want to achieve happiness. And that’s been the root of all my problems.
A few months ago, I thought I was happy, but after meeting Lionel, I realized I was only settling. In reality, my life was not moving toward a goal. I was merely letting myself get carried away by the current.
With all that’s happened recently, it’s made me open my eyes. I shouldn’t trust placing my happiness in the hands of another person, but be the one capable to hold my happiness with my own two hands.
With or without Lionel.
I’m determined to be happy. Because I deserve it.
Because nothing is impossible.
And speaking of Lionel, is this a trick like all the ones that dazzled me before we got married?
Because one thing is for sure, the moment Lionel had my signature on the marriage certificate, the prince turned into a toad, and the problems began. The fantasy didn’t last past midnight.
There are so many reasons for me to be hesitant.
I trusted him blindly. I believed everything he told me in the past, the promises we made to each other.
I thought we were building a future for the two of us.
Now everything has collapsed, like the little pig’s straw house.
I can no longer close my eyes and get carried away, not even by him. I’m staying to fix this, but I’ve gotta do it knowing that it could vanish again.
So I gotta do something for myself.
“You’re very quiet.” He’s so close I can feel the warmth of his words, the warmth of his body through the layers of fabric separating us.
“If you expect me to sing to you, I should warn you that I’m one of the worst. I can’t hold a tune even if my life depended on it.”
“Would you like me to sing?” he whispers, his breath caressing my neck, giving me goose bumps.
Smiling, I turn around, gaining space between us.
“Don’t tell me you can sing.”
The smile vanished from his face before answering. “I don’t know if you know this, but I had a hard time talking. I mean, I could do it, but not without stuttering. Sometimes I still do.”
I look at him with my mouth open. Lionel confessing a weakness?
Another one of his many changes and it amazes me. The Lionel I met before would never admit to being anything less than perfect.
And it makes sense. Now I understand his silence before answering an important question.
“The therapist my parents hired suggested that I should practice singing. I’m not good at it, but I do it once in a while. What’s your favorite song?”
“You never told me that before,” I say.
“It’s not easy to admit our faults,” he confesses. “It’s easier for people to see you as the person that you’ve created, who you’ve become. So what is your favorite song?”
That makes me think for a moment. I have some on my playlist, ones that would fit this mood perfectly.
“I guess ‘Over the Rainbow,’” I say. “My father used to sing it to me to help me fall asleep when I was little girl. Then it became our ritual.”
A devilish smile is drawn on that mouth I’m dying to kiss.
“I could sing it to you in bed, after all, we are going to share it tonight…”
What a bastard…
“Don’t tempt me,” I warn as I point my finger at him. “You’re getting closer to sleeping on the couch, Kral.”
Lionel places one of his hands on my waist, trapping me against the gray granite of the counter. With him looming over me, it’s too much, I need to retreat.
The scent of his cologne fills my senses and my mind begins to spin.
For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, so I close my eyes and moisten my parched lips with the tip of my tongue.
“You have to think about what you really want, Stella,” he whispers, I don’t see it, but I can feel his breath in my ear. “Something tells me that for you nothing is impossible.”
Then he walks away humming the song.
I see him leave the kitchen while I keep thinking why can’t I fly?
Dammit.