29. Alex
Alex
Idon’t know what the thing is she is doing with the knife, but I am impressed all the same.
The way she maneuvers through my kitchen like she has cooked in it a million times warms something in my chest. Her skills are way above those of someone who didn’t get the chance to finish culinary school.
Convincing me to buy a full fish, I watch as she shows me the reason why.
“You know you don’t have to sit here,” she says without looking at me.
“I like watching you.”
Turning around and rubbing her hands on her new apron, she goes for the bottle of wine I selected. Popping it open, she pours both of us a glass.
“At least talk to me then.” She takes a sip and then scrunches her face before putting the glass down. She smacks her lips like she can dislodge the taste from her mouth, then turns back to filleting the fish.
“Okay, do you like wine?” I take my own cautionary sip, wondering if it’s gone bad. When the deep, sweet flavour hits my tongue, I bite back a laugh.
“Nope, but it’s kind of a requirement for a chef. I took a sommelier class in my first semester to try to learn how to pair wines with food. I realized I have the palate of a five-year-old, but I am trying to get a better one.” Fighting her way through another mouthful, she doesn’t wince this time.
“Do you prefer red or white?” she asks me.
“Doesn’t matter, I am getting to know you tonight.”
She looks over her shoulder at me, her eyebrows lifting.
“You have refused to quench my thirst for knowledge about you. Let me have my fill,” I say.
I put my two hands together in a plea. She sighs and then faces the food again, conceding.
“I know a lot of the big stuff, like what drives you and what has shaped you, but I am curious about the things that light you up. Like you enjoy cooking, but if you could, what other hobbies would you have?” Battling the urge to stand up and walk over to her, instead, I drink the wine to keep my hands busy.
“I don’t know, and I don’t think it matters. I won’t have any time soon to do anything more. But I guess if given the opportunity, I would probably read more. Especially poetry. I looked some up after that one dinner with you, and it’s beautiful. It makes life seem beautiful.”
In this moment, I wish that I were capable of writing sonnets. Words wrapped in images to speak about her virtues. Her capacity for beauty deserves to be written about.
“I also think maybe, if you want, that you could teach me how to paint?” She doesn’t face me as she asks, but the way she shifts from foot to foot tells me exactly what she is thinking.
Now, that I can do. I may not be able to say it, but I can always show her how I see her.
“Of course.”
I continue to ask her questions, and gulp down the information greedily.
By the time she puts the plated sweet chili snapper in front of me, I am starved for both it and her.
After I snap a picture to send to Carter, I can’t talk through the first few bites, my mouth too busy devouring the impeccable meal.
Every time I think I have fully tasted something, a new flavor emerges from each chew.
Waiting to see what I have to say, she watches me quietly.
“You need to open a restaurant.”
She hides her mouth behind her hand.
“I’m serious. I’ll fund it, you just continue to cook amazing meals like this.”
“Stop.”
“I am being honest, Chanice. People deserve to taste this food.” I take another bite, half to drive the point home and to also just have more of it in my mouth. Finally tasting her own meal, she shuts her eyes and moans.
“This is the first time, in a long time, that I have had the ingredients to create like this.” Her eyes are shining brighter than ever before, and she can’t keep her lips together.
This whole night, I have been trying to learn who she is, and through this dish, she showed me. It’s like what she said when she went into my bedroom that first time. This isn’t just something she does.
I don’t talk for the rest of the meal. It’s not until the dessert of lemon tarts that I can finally bridge the topic that has been on my mind.
“So I have a charity auction I have to go to midway through December in a few weeks.”
“You go to a lot of charity events.”
“It’s a part of the job. I would like you to go to this one with me.”
Her eyebrows lift up, and she turns in her seat facing me. There is a twist to her lips that doesn’t exactly fit the reaction I thought she would have.
“It would be the experience we talked about. Fancy food, designer dress, us dancing the night away.” Trying to sell it, I hope that she will say yes.
“I thought you forgot about that.”
“I didn’t.”
She gets up to take our plates, and I stop her, moving to put them in the sink for us.
“I don’t have anything to wear.” Starting to put away the leftovers, I can tell she is trying to keep her hands busy.
I stop her, turning her to face me. “Think of a better excuse, because you know I am going to buy you a dress, or suit. Whatever you want.”
“What if my job is catering the event? Either I would have to work, or I would awkwardly be served by my friends. I sort of hope it is doing the job, because I definitely need the money.” Rubbing her hands up and down her face, she sighs.
“I got another job that pays better, but it doesn’t start for a month, and I need to make that extra money. ”
“I’m hoping the rules have changed now that we are dating, so let me contribute.” I put my hands on her waist.
“They didn’t change.” She buries her face into my chest, exhaling against my shirt.
“Just hear me out. I pay for a place for you and the kids, and you can take the opportunity you told me about in the kitchen. That way, you don’t have to worry as much about money, you can pursue your dreams, and have a bedroom.” I laugh a little at that, trying to keep the conversation light.
“No.” Pushing me back, she steps around the island, putting space between us.
I stop for a moment, battling with what to say. I know I can support her in other ways, and I have been, but how can I not offer up this solution to all of her problems?
“Why not?”
She levels me with a gaze that is equal parts sassy and tired.
“Despite the many reasons I have already given you, if we break up, then me and the kids will be homeless without notice. It’s too much of a risk to rely on you financially. A man is not a plan.”
“Do you really think I would just throw you out or stop paying?”
She shrugs, and I try not to feel offended.
“People change. What if I do something to hurt you, and you become petty? Even if you don’t, what reason would you have to keep paying if we broke up?” Even though she doesn’t really like the wine, she pours a glass and downs half of it. The last thing I want to do is stress her out more.
“What if I pay for the full year upfront? I can do that every year you live there, so no matter what, you have the place even when we break up.”
Her eyes widen, and she steps back, throwing her hands up. “That’s crazy. That’s so much money.”
“That’s a compromise for what I really want to do, which is to outright buy you a place. In your name, of course.”
She laughs now, clearly on the verge of hysterics. “This is insanity. You know that, right?”
“Think about it. Even if you stay for only a year, you have time to save up for rent, and a safety blanket. You can get to a point where you don’t need to take the offer unless you want to.
” Tired of being so far apart, I move around the island and pull her into my arms again.
“Say, yes.” Kissing her forehead, I let the smell of coconut wafting from her hair sink into me and settle my own nerves. My hope for her is making me nervous.
“Sometimes I feel like you do way more for me than I do for you.” She sighs the words, and I can hear the worry in her voice.
“I was prepared to be miserable for the rest of my life until I met you. You don’t know what you do for me.”
Her eyes meet mine, a resolute look in them. With a simple nod, she finally agrees to let me help.
“Now that we have that out of the way, you don’t have a reason not to go with me to this event.”
“Fine.” She throws her hands up and stomps back towards the kitchen, but before she can get in there, I wrap her in my arms and drag her towards the bedroom instead.
After tasting almost every part of her skin, I get to hold her naked body flush to mine. She is so soft and silky, and the heat radiating off of her makes me never want to let go. Tonight I don’t have to.
She turns in my arms to face me, her fingers trailing from my brows to my nose. Stopping at the part where it curves in a way it shouldn’t, she looks at me with the question in her eyes. It’s one I get all of the time. A boxer’s nose on a private school kid doesn’t add up.
“My sister’s ex-fiancé hit me, surprisingly hard.” I chuckle. “Granted, I hit him first a few times, enough to leave my own damage, but I didn’t think he would get one in.”
“Why did you fight?”
I sit up on one elbow and lean back a little to see her more clearly. This is a story I want to watch her take in. “My sister Olivia is disowned from our family. She left her soon-to-be husband for her assistant Mei, a week before the wedding.”
She gasps, but then a hint of a smile pokes through. “Damn,” she says.
“Yeah, well, her being a good girl who never ran around with boys had less to do with her caring about her reputation and more to do with the fact that she is a lesbian.”
This causes her to laugh.
“She told her fiancé first, thinking it was the decent thing to do. Even though he is a piece of shit. Well, he hit her, and only stopped because she was able to lock herself in the bathroom. That’s when she called me.”
Her forehead tenses, and I imagine her thinking about Imani or Gabby being in that situation. Every day, she fights to keep them safe, and much like I did, she would dread the moment she wasn’t able to. She grabs my free hand and squeezes.
“When I knocked, he thought I had come to reason with her. I punched him so hard that he hit the floor. I did it a few more times before I realized he wasn’t fighting back.
After he stood up, I thought he was going to leave, but when I went to step past him, he hit me.
After that, I lost control. It wasn’t until Liv called my name that I stopped.
” Reliving that moment, all I feel is pride.
“I got my sister and left, thinking that was going to be the end of it. She wanted to set my nose, but by the time I got her calm, it was no longer a priority.”
“Wait, that wasn’t the end?”
I shake my head and take a big breath. “Our parents came after speaking to him. I’ve never had a high opinion of them, but it hit a new low when they told her to go back to him.”
“What?”
“Mhm. That was the moment I realized they didn’t care about us at all.
” I close my eyes, the memory still so fresh, even though it was years ago.
That heart-stopping minute when our father turned to her and told her she was still supposed to marry him.
A man who put his hands on her. A man she didn’t love.
I think that was the moment that broke my own perception of our life.
It shifted the way I saw everything, and it’s the reason I can’t see things any differently.
“They looked at us like we were the disappointment. I still don’t think my sister understands how fucking little they showed they loved us that night.
Everything they did after that was just another nail in the coffin that held my feelings for them.
My father was dead to me long before we buried him, and I only speak to my mother because Liv asks me to.
I refused to fix my nose to remind them, and everyone else, about the reality of that whole situation.
They can pretend she doesn’t exist, but they have to face it when they look at me. ”
My jaw hurts from how much I’m clenching it. It’s not until she runs her fingers down it that I even begin to relax.
“I thought you were sexy before, but now you’re damn near irresistible.” She kisses my nose, trailing from the tip to the crooked part. When she’s done, she asks me about my sister.
I tell her all of my favorite stories of Liv, from the riot she caused at her boarding school due to the food options, to the time she learned Italian just to be able to converse to get better deals than our mother while shopping in Milan.
Everything I say paints a picture of the funny, patient, and loving woman who deserves more than what others have deemed her worthy of.
I see with each word Chanice growing fond of her, and it just makes me love this woman even more.
“It’s crazy how such bad parents can produce such good kids,” she says, resting her head on my shoulder. “Our siblings are so lovable, and yet we have to constantly remind them that they are worth more than the low-rate affection they have been given.”
“You know you deserve more, too, right?” I ask.
“I’m starting to,” she says, looking into my eyes.
Wrapped in the sheets that are messy from our lovemaking, surrounded by the raw truth of our childhood, I need her to know how much she means to me.
“In case you ever question it, please know that I love you,” I whisper the words against her forehead.
I feel her stop breathing before she lets out a big breath and a watery laugh.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“Alex.”
“Chanice,” I lift up so I am looking into her eyes.
“You are the strong, undefinable, light that has been missing from my life. Everything was black and white until the color of your presence reminded me of the beauty of this world. I love you as you are, including your scars. I love how much you love your siblings. I love how hard you fight in life. I love you.”
She sighs again, and her eyes close, tears pooling in the corners. I flip her onto her back and say the words as I trail down her body. When I get to the center between her legs, I spell the words out with my tongue.
When she comes, I hope it’s with a new understanding of how I feel about her.