Chapter 12
My pillow is warm and cozy. This might be one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever slept on.
I settle again, covering myself with the blankets up to my neck, not even bothering to open my eyes. It feels like heaven.
“Stella, stay still,” I hear his throaty voice. “Move that knee a little higher and you’re going to crack my nuts, and it’s far too early for that.”
Amidst the haze of sleep and satisfaction around me, it takes a few seconds for my brain to process that information.
I sit up quickly on the bed like I’m powered by a spring, dragging the sheet up with me to cover myself. Well, it’s not like I’m naked, my body is fully dressed in one of my grandmother-style pajamas.
“What the hell did you do?” I ask, killing him with a look, wondering how we ended up being a tangled mess on the bed. I honestly don’t know.
“I didn’t do anything,” he counters as he positions himself more comfortably.
His messy hair and his features softened by sleep make my heart flutter.
“Don’t give me that innocent face,” I continue with my hands on my chest clutching the sheet so it doesn’t slip, I’m using it as a shield. It’s useless, I know.
“After you went to the bathroom, I waited for you for a while. I must have fallen asleep at some point. Those pills are quite strong.”
Yes, yes, excuses, excuses.
“Evidence doesn’t lie,” he continues with a smirk. “You were sleeping on my side of the river.”
“That isn’t true,” I reply stubbornly, but he has a point. Facts are on his side.
“You should admit I’m a great pillow. You were quite comfortable.” He looks at me, putting his hand on his shoulder to massage it.
The scars there remind me of how close he was to…
Stop it, Stella!
“As a pillow you’re tolerable,” I retort, there is no point in denying that his chest is very cozy.
I guess old habits die hard.
“You used me as a pillow, and you can’t even give me credit for it.” His hand travels until he’s touching his chest, over his heart. “You wound me deeply, Stella, worse than the bullets.”
I give him the stink eye.
“Don’t even joke about that,” I warn him.
“So what? Are you going to admit you liked sleeping with me? I’m a good pillow.”
“As a head and neck support, you’re quite efficient.”
“Don’t forget your hands,” he adds, making my eyes roll.
“You are impossible, Lionel.”
I move to my side of the bed to get up. The truth is I’m hungry. Lionel also needs to put something in his stomach to take his morning pills, and let’s face it, this conversation is utter nonsense.
“It was you who crossed the Mississippi to snuggle with me. It’s a vast river.”
“Aaaaarrggggg.” Stomping, I head to the bathroom, the man is driving me nuts.
“And we didn’t even mention sharing my body heat,” I hear him say before closing the door.
We definitely need to buy another bed and set it up in a room at the other side of the house—Today.
???
“What are you looking for?” Lionel demands when he sees I’ve scattered my bag contents on the kitchen countertop.
“My phone charger,” I reply while checking the inside pockets.
Nothing. The damn wire is nowhere to be found.
Where the fuck could it be? My phone is dying, and I need it to call my mother. Knowing her, she must be going out of her mind because she hasn’t heard from me. I need an update on my bees, too.
Taking care of them is a precious task and I love it, but there are no days off. Bees have no vacations or weekends. A beekeeper who hopes to gather quality honey without harming the hive, must check the chambers frequently and at specific times. Don’t even get me started on what needs to happen when it’s cold or raining.
To keep stability, the hive needs to stay at a temperature of around ninety-five degrees, the brood cycle needs to be taken care of as the future of the hive depends on them.
On top of all the daily maintenance, our trustworthy customers are waiting for their orders to be fulfilled in a timely manner. I have an inventory of the jars, lids, and labels on my phone, but I’m not sure if my mother has made any extra sales. After all, our income depends on it. My mother’s household bills rely on the sales as well as the rent for mine.
Lionel sips his coffee while watching me.
“Hocus pocus!” he says, moving his hands dramatically in the air.
“Don’t be a jerk, Lionel, this is serious.”
“I’m trying to help,” he says, looking me in the eye. “Take it easy, I’m sure it’s somewhere.”
Maybe I should cut his head off?
“I don’t know where else to look. I’ve already emptied my suitcase.”
He looks at the kitchen’s white ceiling for a second. “Could you have left it at the hospital?”
“I’m sure that’s it,” I agree with him as I think about what I’m going to do next. We can’t leave home and ordering a charger online will take a couple of days to arrive. “All my business information is in there, and I need to call my mother.”
He takes one of my hands, gently caressing my fingers. “Don’t worry. My phone is yours.”
That makes me smile. “Thanks! That’s a partial solution. I still need to check my inventory. My mother must be going crazy with the hive.”
He tightens his grip on my hand. “I was serious when I offered to pay someone to help your mother.”
I look at him carefully. The Martians better come and explain what they did to my husband.
“Why the sudden interest in my things?” That makes me really curious. “You never cared about my business beyond the money to pay for the house expenses.”
The look of disbelief on his face says it all. He’s clearly shocked, although he tries to hide it. “You’ve decided to stay, and I want to take care of you, Stella. I’m going to do my best to make things easier for you in Kentucky. Tell your mother to look for someone to help her, or better yet, I could send your mother money…”
A groan comes out of my lips, I can’t help it. “Don’t even think you’re going to buy me off, Lionel Kral.”
He rolls his eyes before answering. “What’s mine is yours, we are married. And we don’t have a prenuptial agreement, I must add.”
“I told you I don’t want your money, call your lawyer.”
He makes a hand gesture like saying, forget about it. “Okay, one problem at a time. Get a charger, tell me your phone model, maybe mine will work for yours.”
That’s a great suggestion, and the solution to one of my problems. Well, definitely the most urgent one.
“An iPhone,” I reply smiling.
“Just like me, let me go get it.” And he leaves the room.
While Lionel is upstairs, I open the refrigerator thinking about what to fix for breakfast. With all the time I wasted, I decide to make us something quick.
“Last night, we didn’t have a chance to cut the pie,” he says from behind me. This man is like a ninja, he scared the shit out of me.
“Dessert for breakfast?”
“There must be some white cheddar cheese somewhere,” he mutters. “Let it be our new tradition, from this day forward, this house will serve dessert for breakfast.”
Without wasting any more time, I cut two large pieces of pie and put them in the oven. After that, I take my cell phone out of my bag and hand it to Lionel, who has the charger ready.
He looks at my phone with wide eyes and then smirks at me. “Is this an iPhone 7?”
Raising my chin, I reply. “An iPhone 7 Plus in mint condition, works like a charm.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Stella, this thing only works as a paperweight.”
With a haughty gesture, I rip it out of his hands. “It’s mine, and it gets the job done wonderfully. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do. The pie is in the oven.”
I walk out of the kitchen in a hurry, seeking refuge. Upstairs, at the end of the hallway, I find a room with a bathroom and walk-in closet. I drop onto the closet floor, gently closing the door behind me.
No matter how much money Lionel has at hand, it doesn’t give him the right to make fun of my belongings. They are mine . No one has given them to me, and I had to work very hard for them. It seems, after all, the change wasn’t that big, and he’s still the same asshole.
I wipe away the tears falling down my cheeks, angry with him and myself for feeling this way. Before, I would have swallowed my anger, faked a smile, and acted like nothing happened. But that isn’t me anymore. If he doesn’t like it, he must live with it.
I hear the door open. I see him out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t dare to look up. Lionel doesn’t enter the room, he stays there, leaning against the doorframe looking at me with his hands tucked into his pockets.
“I’m sorry, Stella,” he says quietly.
I don’t say anything. I’m still on the floor toying with the phone in my hands.
“I’m really sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I quickly respond because I want him to go away and leave me alone again. After all, he’s good at it.
“Of course it matters. You’re upset.”
“Ignore it, like you always do.”
Please, leave me alone . He’s turning the air heavy in this small room, it’s impossible to breathe.
“I clearly don’t know how to do this,” he says before walking in. A bit later, he squats down in front of me.
I snort, that’s new. Lionel doesn’t know and isn’t interested in making it better. I know that story by heart.
“Can I sit with you?” He points to the wall beside me, as I just shrug. He can do whatever he wants.
“This is your home.”
Lionel sits next to me, his body pressed against mine. That makes me cry harder. I feel silly. I blame it on what happened the last few days, it must be the tension drowning my body.
I hear him taking a deep breath, getting ready for whatever he’s going to tell me.
“Stella, building a house is easy. Making it a home is the tricky part. Clearly, I have no idea how to have a relationship. Look at the mess I made with my terrible joke.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“The last thing I want is to make you sad.” He drops his head against the gray wall behind us. There is a soft thud that reverberates in the silence. “I’m not asking you to be patient because you shouldn’t put up with my nonsense. Instead, I am asking you to show me the way.”
“I’m here,” I say, setting my phone down on the wooden floor. “That should be enough.”
Lionel searches for my hand and entwines his fingers with mine, leaving me no chance to escape. “It’s a lot, it really is. But I told you last night, Stella, we both have to do our part for this to work. Otherwise, our life is going to be hell.”
I turn to look at him. I’m a tearful mess and I don’t care. “What do you think the last three months have been for me? The last few days? You deceived me, the man I met at my honey stand was an illusion, after we got married, you showed your true colors. Do you think being with you has been easy for me?”
This time Lionel doesn’t take the time to answer, nor does he close his eyes as he always does.
“I-I-I’m sorry, Stella,” he stutters and it breaks my heart. “I-I-I-I’m really sorry. P-p-p-please forgive me.”
Unable to resist any longer, I throw my arms around him, my face buried in his neck, while the tears drown in the delicious aroma of his cologne. Lionel hugs me tight, his hands touching my back.
“We can leave the past behind, Stella,” he says in my ear. “I know we can.”
Not a word comes out from my mouth, so I nod and he notices it, because his arms tighten around my waist, pulling my body closer to his.
“I can’t change the past, although I want to, but I can’t,” he whispers. “Let’s start again, let’s write a new story together. One we both like, and makes us happy.”
“That only happens in fairy tales,” I reply, putting my hands on his chest to push him away. He smells so good, feels so good, and says things that make my brain all gooey.
I have to get out of here.
But before I can do it, Lionel’s lips touch my cheeks, drying my tears with his lips. Allowing him to kiss me is a mistake and that’s a fact. Resisting is as difficult as swimming against the current of a rough river. I’m not strong enough.
“Let’s start our story here and now.”
Oh God, what is going on?
I open my mouth to speak as he lowers his head and takes my face in his hands to seal our lips in the sweetest kiss.
I can feel the world spin around us creating a magic bubble. I get lost every time his tongue brushes against mine. The colors of our souls mixing into one so vibrant and full of life. He’s my husband. I’ve kissed him before, many times. And at the same time, it feels so new, so different. As if this were our first kiss.
My body doesn’t respond to my thoughts. At the moment, I should run away and seek refuge in the hills, but my heart has already fallen prey to his charm, a spell that I can’t break.
Truth be told, I don ’ t want to break it.
“Does this mean you forgive me?” he asks me as his lips run down my chin.
Everything has changed, not only this between us, but the way he marks me again as his own.
“It’s a beginning.” My voice is panting and trembling.
Lionel chuckles softly, but continues to rain kisses across my jaw.
“I hate to see you cry,” he confesses and that surprises me. “And I hate to be the reason for your tears.”
He whispers before kissing me again, feeling his lips move over mine in a touch as careful as it is suggestive. It isn’t a passionate kiss, but at the same time it’s full of hunger.
It’s sweet, like the honey my bees produce; tender, and somehow possessive. He’s marking me as his, making me feel wanted. A sigh escapes from my lips as he puts his tongue over mine with a silky caress. I have to hold onto his broad shoulders because his kisses make me feel dizzy. My entire body has turned to jelly, like clay in his hands for him to mold, and I’m sure that if it hadn’t been for him holding me tightly to his chest, I would have ended up a puddle on the floor.
“Since we are creating a new beginning,” he says, his mouth so close to mine. “This is how fighting should always end in our home.” He seals his lips over mine.
It’s difficult to believe that there is a we .
But it’s more difficult to resist him.