Page 22 of Always Been You

Walking into the living room, I take off my suit jacket, laying it over the back of a chair before I loosen my tie, and roll the sleeves of my dress shirt up to my elbows. Liv is in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove stirring something. She is moving to the music and is completely oblivious to the fact that I have walked in. I cross my arms over my chest, lean against the back of the couch, and take her in.

In a pair of black leggings, a loose-fitting tank top, and her hair pulled back in a ponytail she moves like she has no carein the world, swaying her hips as she stirs the pot in front of her, and bobbing her head to the music. It’s nice to see her happy and enjoying something. Spinning around to move to the sink, she lets out a scream and clutches her chest. I try my hardest not to laugh at the reaction.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me,” she exhales, dropping the spatula in the sink.

“I didn’t mean to,” I say, smiling at her. She stares at me for a second before saying, “Well, I made dinner. I’m just going to drain the noodles and it’s done. Why don’t you wash up and I’ll finish this, and we can eat.”

“Yes ma’am,” I joke with her and push myself off the couch before heading down the hall to the washroom. I wash my hands before heading back to the kitchen. Olivia has set up the dining room table with plates, cutlery, and the food she has prepared. I don’t usually eat at my dining room table, only when my family comes over and that’s not often as we usually go to my parents’ place.

“Do you want a beer?” Olivia calls from the kitchen.

“Yeah, that would be great, thanks,” I call back.

I sit down at the table as she returns with a beer for me and a cooler for herself. She settles down beside me at the table, takes a sip of her drink, and seems to fiddle with the label. The room seems a little awkward as this is the first time we have sat down and shared a meal in my place since she moved in. Things have never been awkward between us before and I don’t like it.

“Thank you for cooking, Olivia. It looks amazing,” I say, breaking the silence between us.

She reaches for the salad bowl that’s on the table and passes it to me. “Don’t worry about it. It’s the least I could do since you’re letting me stay here with you.”

“You don’t have to cook for me, Olivia,” I say. “I appreciate it, though. I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal, probably when I was at my parents’ for family dinner.”

I can cook, and my mom made sure that I could take care of myself, but I often find myself ordering takeout or going to a bar after work to watch whatever sports game is on that day instead of cooking for myself. I never really enjoyed cooking for only one person. I put some salad on my plate before handing the bowl back to her and then grabbing the pasta in the centre of the table.

“It’s nice to cook for someone else besides myself,” she says as she follows suit with the salad and pasta.

I take a bite of the pasta; the flavours erupt on my tongue, and I let out an appreciative moan. I don’t remember her being such an amazing cook. Her cheeks pink at the sound of my moan, “This is amazing,” I say to make sure she understands how much I am enjoying this.

“It’s not bad,” she mumbles while using her fork to push her pasta around her plate like she is embarrassed.

“It’s more than okay,” I tell her.

She remains quiet. “So, how was your day?” I ask.

“It was good. I went to my place and cleaned, handed my keys back to the landlord, got my security deposit back, and spent some time with Gi. Came back here and I read a book on the balcony. That view you have is amazing,” she says, looking at me with a soft smile.

“That sounds great. How is Gi? She just got back to town, right?”

“Yeah, she got in on Wednesday. Matt and I picked her up at the airport and had lunch with her. She’s doing well, and adjusting to being back. The weather is different and everything.”

“I can understand that. I’m glad you enjoy the balcony, I enjoy that view. I sit out there when I have issues sleeping, the sound of the traffic below, people going about their lives, it’s nice.” She nods at me as she listens.

“I did enjoy it. I think I’ll be spending a good amount of time out there. How was work?”

“Had a few meetings, nothing special.”

We finish eating with some easy, casual conversation. When we finish, I stand and collect the dishes and make my way to the kitchen with them. She follows behind me and tries to help, but I stop her.

“You cooked; I clean. That’s the rule.” She stares at me for a second with her lips parted, like I just told her something scandalous.

“Thanks,” she says before grabbing the remaining items off the dining table.

“What are you going to do now?” she asks me as I put the last of the leftovers in the fridge.

“I was going to watch something on Netflix. Wanna join me?” I ask.

“Sounds good,” she says. We wander over to the living room and settle onto the couch, on opposite ends. She grabs the blanket off the back of the couch, and we pick a new show that neither of us has watched and settle in. This feels easy and comfortable sitting and watching TV with Olivia after a day at work and sharing dinner. I could get used to this, and that scares the shit out of me, because what will I do when she moves out into her own place?

The next fewweeks pass quickly as Josh and I get used to living together. Josh has hockey games on Tuesday and Thursday this week, but on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I cook dinner, and we eat together when Josh gets home from work. After we eat, he cleans up and then we settle down on the couch together and watch our show. That’s weird, calling it our show, but neither of us watches it without the other, so it is our show.

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