Chapter 9
CORMAC
I fucked up.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had to say that to myself, but as I listen to the silence in the house I know it’s the truth. Before Brenna and I had that altercation about what Dean had come to tell me, she was opening up.
What I thought was an annoyance has proven to be a new part of life I didn’t know I was yearning for. She brings a joy and freshness to this old mansion that has already changed the darkest parts of me.
It’s been two days since Dean was here, and in that time I haven’t seen Brenna again.
I shouldn’t care. It shouldn’t bother me, but I can’t stop myself from looking around corners, wondering if she’s there. I can’t stop peering into the shadows, hoping that instead of the same old ghosts that haunt me it’s her walking toward me with her sassy mouth.
Now, instead of listening to the wind or the crackling of the fire, I find myself trying to listen out for her. To maybe accidentally bump into her in the halls.
So far it hasn’t happened, and I’m getting tired of waiting.
I could order her to come out and spend time with me. That’s what my father would do, but I don’t want to be my father. I don’t want her to only be spending time with me simply because she’s ordered to.
But trying to fix my mistake isn’t something I know how to do. I’ve never been near anyone long enough to want to smooth anything over.
My brothers and I have had squabbles, but we were too busy fighting for our lives to stay mad at each other for too long. I’m sure if I leave it up to Brenna she’ll hold on to this grudge for as long as she can.
I pull out my phone and start aimlessly scrolling on the news sites and other social media. I don’t have a presence there myself, but I like to look at other people and what they are doing. It at least lets me keep a small grip on reality.
As I scroll through the happy photos of people I don’t know, I see one thing in common. Food. There are food pictures everywhere.
Brenna has to eat, right? I mean, it’s a basic function of nature. And I did promise myself that I would do a better job of trying to take care of her needs.
I can start with this one. There’s no way that I’m going to try and make her a big dinner.
My culinary skill is limited to a few pasta dishes and grilled chicken.
In fact, I usually have grilled chicken through the week and then whatever frozen dinners I have in the freezer for lunch.
I don’t need much to survive, but maybe Brenna would appreciate something different.
I swipe out of the social media app and pull up the DoorDash app. I’ve used it a few times, mainly because they have a no-contact option where the delivery people will leave the food at the gate. I don’t have to look at them and they don’t have to look at me.
Still, I’ve only used it for simple things like a pizza or Chinese food. I’ve used it maybe three times in the few years that I’ve had it. This is about to be the biggest order that I’ve placed on it. I hope it all goes off without a problem.
I scan the options, and it dawns on me that I have no idea what kind of food Brenna would like. I don’t know if she’s allergic to anything. I’ve come to depend on her presence, but she’s truly nothing more than a stranger living in my house. As her husband, I guess I should change that.
I settle on an Italian place. I order some pastas, fried meats, salads, fruit. Pretty much one of everything they have to order. By the time I’m finished the bill is extensive, and the restaurant actually calls me to confirm I meant to place the order.
I’m nervous as I wait for the food to come. Not because I don’t think they’ll get the order right, but because Brenna could deny me. I could be left on my own to try and eat all this food.
An hour later, the food is dropped off at the gate. A picture is sent to my phone with a plethora of bags all left on the floor. I pick up the in-house line and call Maxim.
“I need you and maybe one other guard to bring the food that was just delivered into the house.”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir. Should we check the bags for any threats?”
I scoff at his train of thought. If there’s going to be an assassination attempt made on my life, I doubt they are going to go through DoorDash to do it.
“No, it’s fine. Just bring it inside.”
“Right away.”
Pulling my hand up, I run my palm over my face, trying to gear myself up for what is about to happen. My beard is still unruly.
I look down at what I’m wearing and realize that though I may be comfortable, I’m not exactly impressive.
Frustration begins to build inside of me when I realize just how much I want to make a good impression on Brenna.
It’s childish, but I do what I have to do nonetheless.
Rushing to the bathroom, I grab my trimmer and cut down my beard until it’s neat.
I can’t really tell if I’ve done a good job.
There are no mirrors in the bathroom. I took them out years ago.
I’ll do whatever I have to in order to forgo looking at my face.
I hope everything is even.
After I finish with my beard, I work on my hair and face some of the same problems, because without a mirror I can’t really see what I’m doing.
Once I’ve cut off enough, I jump into the shower and change my clothes.
Now that I’m presentable, I go to the kitchen and work on getting the food ready to be served.
I have to reach up into the top cabinets to pull out dinnerware that I never use. In fact, one of the platters hasn’t seen the light of day since before my mother died.
I’m pulling out all the stops for Brenna, and she doesn’t even know it yet.
When the food is all on display, my nerves start to get the better of me. It’s a strange feeling.
All she can do is say no, right. It’ll be a hit to my ego, but I won’t force her to come eat with me. I don’t deserve her forgiveness, even if she doesn’t know I’m nearly crawling out of my skin trying to get it.
Taking a deep breath, I make my way to Brenna’s door and knock once.
“What?” she snaps at me. She’s still pissed. This is a very bad idea.
My mouth pops open, but I realize in that moment that I don’t have any clue what to say. I won’t beg. I can’t force her.
“There’s food.” I shake my head as the simple words come out of my mouth. I’m not really asking if she wants to eat with me.
“And? There was food here yesterday and you didn’t tell me about it,” she calls through the door.
“Maybe you should come out to eat it.”
“Maybe I should just lay here and go back to sleep like I’ve been doing.”
I groan and push my fingers through my freshly trimmed hair. This is stupid. A large part of me wants to burst into her room, grab her by her arm, and drag her to the table. I shouldn’t have done this.
“As you wish.” I grumble and turn on my heel. This is the last time I go out on a limb like this. It’s nothing but a waste of time. Brenna and I will never have any type of common ground. There’s nothing about me she could possibly connect with.
I close my eyes for a second, and a quick image of her concerned face flashes in my mind. She was genuinely worried about me when she came to pull my coat about what Dean had done.
We may not have a connection yet, but we do have common ground. We’re stuck in this together.
I take a few steps away from her door, feeling a wave of disappointment. This definitely has not gone to plan.
I make it halfway down the hall when I hear the door behind me slowly creak open. I turn, looking over my shoulder to see Brenna standing there with a scowl on her face.
She blinks a few times as she takes me in.
“You shaved?” Her eyes focus on my face, and simply out of habit I turn my head away from her.
She walks in my direction quickly. I suck in a quick breath when her hand rises and she gently turns my head back in her direction.
“You shaved and cut your hair?” The wonder in her voice is nearly childlike.
“It was time.” I didn’t want to admit that I’d done it for her. That I wanted to look more presentable for her.
She nods, and a small smile starts to form on her lips. I prepare myself for whatever crafted insult she can hurl my way. Usually the insults I hear from people are underhanded. Something like even with the scar, you have intense eyes.
Instead she simply says, “You look very handsome.”
There is no undertone, no patronization. Just simple honesty.
“Um… yeah… thanks.” I don’t know how to react. Especially now that I’m focusing on the fact that she’s touching me gently for the first time since I’ve known her. Her fingers on my face are like flames, yet this fire doesn’t burn with pain. It burns with something else entirely. Desire.
She clears her throat and drops her hand. I already miss her touch.
“So… there’s food?”
“Yeah. You have to eat. I have to eat. I got food.” Once again the words don’t come out how I want.
Brenna squints her eyes at me and tilts her head, as if she’s trying to decipher a code.
“Are you asking me to have dinner with you?”
Just like her to cut through all the bullshit.
“Yes.”
“Okay. I can do that. Give me a second. I can’t have you showing me up.” She smiles at me and looks down at my outfit before giving me the okay sign with her fingers.
I chuckle, and she turns to hurry back to her room, I’m assuming to change.
As I turn to walk to the dining room where all the food is set up, I realize that I’m lighter. There’s a bit of a bounce to my step that wasn’t there before.
Maybe tonight won’t be so much of a waste after all.
I’ve been hard and closed off for most of my life. The scar on my face took away all my motivation to socialize. I honestly thought I’d forgotten how to.
Brenna is making it easy for me.
I may not be the future she envisioned herself with, but I’m the future she has. It’s my duty as her husband to make sure I can take care of her to my best abilities.
That starts tonight.
I’ll find out more about her. Dive deeper into her and pull out some of the hidden parts.