Chapter 5 #2
And then it struck him and his stomach turned over with unease. She’d made dinner for him, and he’d not turned up for it. He hadn’t even messaged to let her know he’d be too late to eat with her.
He snapped the bin lid shut and stepped away from it, feeling a strange mixture of self-righteousness and guilt.
It wasn’t as though he’d deliberately not turned up for the ‘getting to know each other’ dinner, he’d just forgotten about it.
Work had had to take precedence today; it had been imperative to get on top of the problem before it had snowballed.
He’d explain all that to her tomorrow and apologise for missing dinner.
There was no point in feeling guilty about it though.
They had plenty of time to get to know each other and she’d have to get used to him having to work late without giving her any notice.
That was how his life worked, and he wasn’t about to change it for someone who was fundamentally in his employ.
She’d understand that.
Frankly, he was paying her a hefty chunk of money to understand and accept that.
With that assuring thought in mind he added a splash of milk to his tea then took it through to the sitting room to drink it, determined to enjoy a few minutes of his evening before he had to retire to bed.
* * *
When Soli turned up in the kitchen at seven o’clock the next morning, hoping to catch Xavier before he went to work, she was frustrated to find he’d already been and gone.
Had he done it on purpose, so he didn’t have to see her?
She’d been disappointed and a bit hurt when he hadn’t come home in time to eat the food she’d spent so much time and energy on, but she’d tried not to take it to heart. She’d decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he’d just forgotten about it.
And her.
The uncomfortable twisting sensation that she’d experienced when she’d finally accepted he wasn’t coming home last night reappeared.
She needed to get a grip. There were bound to be a few misunderstandings until they got to know each other better. He was a very busy man who ran his own company, so of course he was going to be working long hours and would be prone to forgetting she was at home, waiting for him.
But the dissenting voice in her head whispering that he was deliberately avoiding her wouldn’t shut up.
She felt wired and restless now, as if there was something portentous in the air.
Perhaps it was the ghost of Xavier’s great-aunt who had come to check up on the state of the marriage and was most displeased with what she saw.
Not that I blame you, Aunt Faith – I’d be pretty annoyed too if I found out he was playing the system to get round my wily attempt to force him to emotionally connect with life.
By eight o’clock that evening she’d just about given up hope of him appearing for dinner again and was about to start making enough food for one when she heard the front door open, then slam closed.
Heart thumping hard, she waited with bated breath to see whether he’d come to try and find her in the kitchen.
When he appeared in the doorway he seemed almost shocked to see her, as if he’d completely forgotten he had a wife.
‘Soli, hi,’ he said, frowning at her.
Steeling herself against a wave of disquiet, she said, ‘Hi. How was your day?’
Oh, man, why did she feel so awkward talking to him? Perhaps because he was still frowning at her as if wondering what she was still doing here.
‘It was fine,’ he said distractedly, glancing around the kitchen.
‘You’re back late again.’ She forced herself to smile graciously then waited to see whether this would trigger an apology for missing the dinner she’d made him the night before.
He ran a hand over his eyes and let out a sigh. ‘Yes. It’s not an uncommon occurrence.’
‘I see.’ So she wasn’t getting an apology, then.
‘How was your day?’ he asked instead.
He still wasn’t looking at her though; instead his gaze ran over the kitchen surfaces where she’d left some of her cake-making equipment.
‘Pretty good, thanks,’ she replied, pleased that he’d at least asked about her, even if he wasn’t entirely engaged in the conversation.
‘Are you planning on making stock for the cafe here?’ he asked abruptly, the terseness in his tone shooting a shiver of discomfort down her spine.
‘No, this is just some of my baking stuff from home. You don’t mind if I keep it in here, do you?’
He seemed to seriously consider this request for a second or two as if deciding whether he’d be prepared to share the space with her. ‘Sure. Why not?’ he said eventually.
‘Thanks,’ she said, slightly discomfited, hoping he wasn’t going to be this possessive about the rest of the house. Clearly, he wasn’t used to having someone invading his territory.
Perhaps a goodwill gesture would make him more tolerant of her presence here.
‘You know, I make a mean chocolate fudge cake. It’s a particular favourite in the cafe. I can make one for you, if you like. It’s yummy.’
She looked at him expectantly, hoping for some spark of interest.
‘No. Thanks. I’m not a big fan of desserts.’
The pleasure she’d initially felt at the thought of spending time with him tonight was rapidly draining out of her.
‘Oh. Okay.’ She forced an undaunted smile, despite the sting of rejection she felt. ‘No problem.’ She swallowed. ‘Have you eaten supper? I can make us some chilli. I’ve got all the ingredients right here.’
‘No. Thanks,’ he said again. ‘I had a late lunch and I’ve got a few calls to make to the US, so it’ll be a while before I’m done. You go ahead and eat without me.’ He gave her a curt nod, then turned to leave the room.
The last dregs of her optimism drained away, leaving her totally deflated.
His business-like attitude towards her was seriously denting her excitement at living here with him. It was becoming starkly clear that he didn’t want to spend any time with her and that he was deadly serious about keeping their relationship emotion-free.
Turning to stare down at the chopping board and the pile of ingredients for the food she didn’t really feel like eating any more, she was just about to pick up the knife to start chopping enough onions for one portion, determined not to let him totally disturb her equilibrium, when she realised he was still in the room.
When she turned to look at him, she saw he was leaning against the doorjamb, watching her with a thoughtful expression on his face.
‘I’m sorry I forgot about our “getting to know each other” dinner last night,’ he said when he noticed her questioning eyebrow.
He didn’t exactly sound sorry though. In fact, from the tone of his voice she got the impression he was actually quite irritated about having to explain himself.
‘There’s a good chance I won’t be around at regular times in the evenings so don’t worry about making food for me. I’ll eat when I get in,’ he went on when she didn’t react right away.
So, she was going to be eating on her own every evening?
How horrible. She hated the thought of sitting in this huge empty house all on her own, night after night, not having anyone to talk to.
She was so used to being around people all day in the cafe and then chatting to her mum and sister over their family meals, it made her spirits sink to think she’d miss out on all that life while she was here.
For a whole year.
Her stomach knotted at the thought of it.
‘You know, this house is such a big, lonely place for one person. Perhaps your great-aunt wanted you to get married and raise a family here so you’re not on your own all the time,’ she muttered, unable to keep her agitated thoughts to herself any longer.
She saw his shoulders stiffen and the air felt suddenly leaden with tension.
‘Yes, well, she’ll have to be forever disappointed in me for not having children, I’m afraid,’ he said tersely.
‘You don’t want kids?’ She was surprised to hear that.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because they’re an inconvenience. They mess up your life.’
The bluntness of his tone bothered her.
‘You really believe that?’
‘Yes.’
But she could have sworn she saw a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. Just for a second.
‘That’s sad.’
‘Sad? Why?’ He was scowling at her now as if she was talking utter nonsense.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I guess I can imagine you being a great dad.’
He looked at her steadily for a couple more beats and she got the feeling he was trying to decide how to handle this without it turning into a big deal.
‘Well, thanks. But I don’t think I’m the sort of person who could give a kid the kind of love they need.’
‘Because your parents didn’t give it to you?’ she blurted without thinking, her frustration at his aloofness getting the better of her.
Exasperation flashed across his face, but he covered it quickly. ‘I’d rather not talk about my parents.’
‘Okay. Sorry.’ But she didn’t feel sorry, she felt annoyed with him for being so obstructive.
Was he going to treat her like this for the entire year?
Perhaps he’d hoped she’d squirrel away in her downstairs bedroom like an animal in a cage, never asking any awkward questions or getting in his way and only showing herself when he summoned her.
He must have seen the irritation on her face because he blinked in surprise. ‘Anyway, I have a lot to do this evening,’ he said, to her mounting ire. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
Before she could utter another word, he strode out of the room, leaving her alone.
Again.