13. Masaccio
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Masaccio
“ A lright - tell me what your problem is?” Dalila insists as soon as we are out of earshot from Leora.
“Huh? What are you talking about? I don’t have a problem.” I shrug, feeling defensive.
“Well, then what’s going on with you? Why are you being such an asshole to Leora? She’s your wife but you don’t even want to hug her—” He says.
I sigh and roll my eyes.
“Dalila, firstly, it’s none of your business - secondly she isn’t a real wife.”
“What the hell. How can you say that?”
Dalila looks upset. She glares at me with her hand on her hip.
“You know what I mean. This whole thing - it’s fake. It’s just for show. The sooner Leora realizes that the better it will be for both of us.”
“Mas - it doesn’t have to be fake. Just because it wasn’t what you wanted, not something you chose, doesn’t mean it has to suck. If you just got to know her - maybe spend a little time with her. She’s a really sweet—”
“No.”
I want her to leave now. I don’t want to discuss this.
I turn to walk towards the front door, but Dalila grabs my arm, pulling me back to face her.
“No. You can’t just walk away like that. Talk to me. What is it you don’t like about her?”
Her question is really straight forward - to the point - and it catches me completely off guard.
What is it I don’t like about Leora?
My mind is racing to find an answer to give to my sister. One that makes sense. Anything. I can’t come up with anything at all.
“Well? What’s wrong with her, Mas? Why don’t you want to spend time with her?” Dalila can tell she’s put me in an awkward position. She can tell I have no real reason to dislike her.
“It’s not that simple.” I say after an awkward silence.
She punches my shoulder, scrunching her nose. “It is that simple dumbass. ” She huffs. “It’s as simple as at least giving her a chance. You can’t just ignore your wife for the rest of your life you know.” She rolls her eyes.
“Ok. Ok, you’ve had your say - you can go now.”
She reaches out and touches my arm. Her eyes are softer now. Caring. “Please Mas, promise me you’ll at least give this a proper chance?”
“Fine. I promise.”
Dalila wraps her arms around my waist and hugs me tight. I can smell sunscreen and strawberries on her. She smells like summer.
Guilt washes through me because in so many ways I know my sister is right.
I haven’t even stopped to ask myself that question - to ask myself what I don’t like about Leora.
I sigh, giving Dalila a one-armed hug, then pushing her towards the front door.
“Go home already.” I say in a teasing voice.
She skips ahead and pushes the door open, then turns to look back at me. She narrows her eyes and tilts her head, throwing me a look that says you promised.
I wave and roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” I say before she disappears out to her car.
Maybe I really do need to give Leora a chance.
It’s so difficult though.
I never wanted this.
I walk through the living room, standing at the patio doors I look out towards the pool - to where Leora is lying in that bikini, her long shapely legs stretched out in front of her - I turn away from the incredible view, not liking the way my body is never in my control around her.
I like to be in control, but she turns me on in an instant and I’m worried -
I’m worried that I’ll sleep with her again and it will just get more intense and awkward.
I head upstairs to my bedroom.
I’ll have to give it some time, think it through and decide the best way to handle this situation.
The next morning, I leave the house before Leora is awake.
I do actually have work to do. But I’ve decided that I will at least have a short conversation with her tonight.
Perhaps ask how her day was. Something normal. Easy going.
I don’t want to over think it.
I’ll just keep it as simple as possible and give myself a chance to get to know her before I decide anything.
We might at least be friends.
That evening when I get back Leora has made another candle lit dinner.
Walk into the house and smell the Bolognese straight away.
One thing I can vouch for is that her cooking is incredible.
“Mas.” She sounds excited as she rushes over to greet me. “How was your day? Did you get everything done that you needed to do?” She wraps her arms around my waist, and I force myself to hug her back even though it feels stiff and formal.
“I had a good day, thanks. How was yours?” I sound a bit robotic. Why am I so terrible at this?
“It was super. Come on. I’ve just finished setting the table and the foods about to come out the oven. You have perfect timing.”
“Can I help with anything?” I ask, following her to the kitchen. She turns around and chases me away. “No, I’m making dinner for you - you’ve been at work all day. Go sit down. Relax.”
I nod. Feeling awkward. Getting chased out of my kitchen is not something I appreciate.
I suppose she is trying to make a nice gesture. That’s all.
I head through to the dining room, grabbing a drink on the way.
The room is set up with those same candles flickering like a festive little party.
I sit down, not relaxed at all, taking big sips of my drinking hoping the alcohol will help me through this dinner.
Leora comes through carrying a dish of bolognas with crunch cheese grilled on top. Damn it smells so good.
She sets it down on the table.
I don’t wait to let her dish up for me because I don’t want her to do me anymore favors than she already has. Just now she will be expecting things in return.
Standing up I take the spoon and dish up for her, then myself.
“Thanks.” She grins, taking a seat.
We eat in silence for a while - me trying to figure out how to start a conversation with someone I don’t know at all - who is living in my house - her with a watchful eye on me.
“Do you like it?” She asks.
“It’s incredible.”
I eat faster than I should because while I am enjoying the food I am not enjoying this shared moment. It’s too much.
I asked her how her day was and that was pretty much all the conversation I can handle with her.
She is now chatting away about the recipe and how her grandmother handed it down to her father and he taught her when she was young and how much she loves cooking like it’s an act of love - and on and on and on.
Watching her while she twirls spaghetti onto her fork, looking down at her plate, I notice again how beautiful she is. Her face is lit up with enthusiasm as she shares this story with me, even though I am not really listening.
She’s animated and cheerful.
She makes it look easy - to make conversation - to be relaxed.
I sigh and lean back in my chair.
“Thank you, Leora, that was good. I am going to head up and shower and then call it a night.”
“Oh, wait, um - before you go—”
She reaches under the table, to the empty chair next to her, and pulls up a box.
It’s wrapped in black satin paper with a black ribbon around it.
It’s not big. But it makes me incredibly uncomfortable.
“I bought you a present.” She smiles, handing it over the table to me.
I stand up and take it from her, letting my arm hang at my side, gripping the gift in my hand.
I never know how to react when someone gives me a gift.
“Thank you - good night.” I turn away from the table and hurry from the room.