13. Nathan
Music plays softly in the little cabin, and a gentle wind whispers around the house. As I lean against the kitchen counter, a smile spreads across my face.
It’s weird, but I feel so… good. So relaxed.
When I first got to Montauk, I was freaking out about all the meetings I would be missing. But now, only a few days later, I don’t even really care.
It’s been days since I last thought about work, and I’m starting to see that there’s more to life than just boardrooms and presentations. The tension in my shoulders has disappeared, replaced by an unfamiliar yet welcome feeling of relaxation.
Even in the stressful circumstances, I’ve noticed myself smiling more over the past few days than I have in years. And I know that a big part of it is Maria. She’s so resilient, smart, and captivating — the kind of person who can make you forget your troubles without even trying. But as much as I love being around her, I know we could never be together. Not truly.
That doesn’t mean I can’t show her how much I value her, though. How much she means to me.
I’ve already decided that once this whole mess blows over, I’ll be giving her a significant raise and some kind of special gift — maybe a new car, or a luxurious vacation somewhere.
But for now, I can only do small things for her. Which is fine. I have to start somewhere.
“Maria?” I call out as I step towards the living room, eager to take matters into my own hands. “I want to make a special dinner for us tonight. What do you think?”
“Really?” She turns around from the shelves she’s been dusting. Even though we’ve cleaned the place from top to bottom, there’s not much to do around here, so the whole cabin is sparkling clean. “What kind of special dinner?”
“Seafood, of course.” I lean against the doorframe. I already picked up the ingredients when I went shopping this afternoon, and I’m looking forward to (hopefully) impressing her. “Why don’t you go relax while I cook? I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”
Her lips twist. “I could use a bath.”
I try my hardest to not imagine her in said bath. Instead, I smile and nod. “Take your time. There’s nothing for you to do out here.”
As she heads off to the bathroom, I get to work on the lobster risotto. I’m determined to impress her with both the taste and presentation, pouring my heart into every ingredient and stir. With each step, I imagine her delight, and it fuels me along.
To set the perfect ambiance, I light candles and place them strategically throughout the kitchen. The soft, flickering glow casts enchanting shadows on the walls, adding warmth and intimacy to the space. I turn on some music, selecting a playlist of soothing tunes that will blend seamlessly into the background of our conversation.
With the decorations complete, I step back and survey my handiwork. The kitchen has transformed into a soft haven, and I can’t help but grin. For the first time in a long while, I’m on top of the world.
It’s not lost on me that the setting is, uh, romantic, for lack of a better word. But there’s nothing wrong with that. Maria and I are still friends at best. Lighting a few candles doesn’t mean we’ll be falling into each other’s arms.
Shaking off those thoughts for now, I focus on putting the finishing touches to our dinner. One way or another, tonight will be a night to remember.
The sound of the bathroom door opening catches my attention, and I turn to see Maria making her entrance. Gone are the jeans that have been her uniform for the past few days. Instead, she’s wearing a slinky black dress that hugs every curve, accentuating her natural beauty. Her hair is effortlessly pinned up, exposing the delicate line of her neck. The sight leaves me momentarily breathless.
“Wow,” I blurt out, my jaw dropping involuntarily. She blushes at my reaction, looking down at the floor briefly before meeting my gaze again.
“Perhaps this dress is too much for dinner?” she asks, uncertainty clouding her eyes. “It was my mom’s. I found it in the trunk, and I just thought I’d try it on, and… well…”
“You look beautiful, Maria. Truly stunning. It’s not too much at all.”
“Thank you,” she replies, her smile tentative but genuine.
We sit down for dinner, and her eyes widen as she takes in the lobster risotto. “This looks amazing.”
“Wait until you taste it,” I say, feeling a surge of pride as I watch her take her first bite. Even though I don’t cook much, there are a few dishes that I have down to a tee.
Her eyes close as she savors the flavors, and when they open again, they’re filled with appreciation.
“Delicious,” she declares. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“Believe it or not, the housekeeper who practically raised me taught me most of what I know.” The memories of all those hours in the kitchen come flooding back. “My father and mother weren’t around much when I was growing up, so I ended up spending more time with the staff than them.”
Maria’s expression falters, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “That must’ve been hard for you.”
I shrug, trying to brush off her concern. “It wasn’t all bad. I learned how to cook, after all.” I chuckle, attempting to shift the conversation to happier topics. “And speaking of which, do you have any favorite dishes? Maybe I could try making one for you sometime.”
Her face brightens at the change in direction, and we dive into a lively discussion about our shared love for food — exploring new recipes, the joy of discovering unique flavors, and the comfort that comes from a home-cooked meal. It’s yet another topic that I didn’t know we had in common, and I wonder just how deep this rabbit hole goes. Are the two of us more alike than dissimilar?
As we laugh and talk, I can’t help but be grateful for this moment. A connection is forming between us, something deeper than friendship but still fragile. And it’s a connection worth nurturing, even if we can never truly be together.
As we finish our meal, a slow song begins to play on the stereo. Maria’s face lights up as she recognizes it.
“Oh, I love this song,” she says, her eyes shining.
“Really?” I’m unable to resist the magnetic pull of her enthusiasm. “Well then, we have to dance to it.” My heart races in my chest, and I know I shouldn’t be getting this close to her. But something inside me pushes any lingering caution aside.
“Are you sure?” she asks hesitantly.
“Absolutely.” I extend my hand towards her. She hesitates for just a moment before placing her delicate fingers in mine.
We move to the open space near the kitchen counter, our bodies swaying gently to the music. I can feel the heat radiating between us as we draw closer, our breaths mingling with each passing moment. Her brown eyes hold mine captive, and before I know it I’m lost in their depths.
“Maria,” I whisper, my voice cracking under the weight of emotions threatening to spill over. An involuntary shiver runs through her at the sound of her name, and it’s all the encouragement I need.
The world around us fades away as our lips finally meet in a tentative kiss, testing the waters of uncharted territory. It doesn’t take long for the kiss to deepen, fueled by the passion simmering beneath the surface. We press close to each other, the rhythm of our hearts aligning as if they’ve been waiting for this moment all along.
She moans against my mouth, and I’m done. Just scattered to pieces, every last bit of restraint I had now gone.
I scoop Maria up into my arms, her legs wrapping around me instinctively. We share a look that holds a thousand words, conveying a mutual understanding of the gravity of what’s happening between us.
My feet carry us out of the kitchen and across the living room, led by the undeniable force pulling us together. As I push open the door to the nearest bedroom, a part of me knows that nothing will ever be the same between us after tonight. And yet, as I lay her down on the soft sheets and our eyes lock once more, I’m left feeling that this is exactly where we’re meant to be.