Page 55 of Honey Bun
I found ingredients for chicken and pasta. In my old life, this would have been a feast, but I was sure it was too simple for the man in his bedroom. I fried the chicken and boiled water. When the noodles cooked, I heard his footsteps. I glanced at the sky and hoped he would accept my apology.
He walked in, and before he could ask, I pointed to the oven. “So, I’m cooking dinner.”
He looked sexy as fuck in those blue cotton pajama pants, and his muscles were all on display. My heart whispered that he was mine.
He said, “You are?”
Unlike him, I was broken, and I wasn’t what he needed. I tensed and forged ahead. “You said you wanted to talk, and since Aurora will be home soon, I figured we can do that over a small dinner that doesn’t need time to arrive.”
He laughed and came closer. My pulse quickened as he kissed my cheek. “I don’t remember the last time I ate home cooking.”
My gut twisted. I wasn’t sure I should apologize. I felt bad, but nothing had changed. I was inadequate at giving him the same pleasure he gave me, and he deserved far better. “I’m not the best chef. I just thought it was easier this way if we… talk as you wanted. So, what was it you wanted to talk over dinner about?”
If I focused on him, we’d be fine, and I could stop this tension in me that wanted to scream.
He stepped back. “Want a glass of wine?”
“Yes. That sounds great.”
He opened the refrigerator and found a sauvignon blanc, my new favorite. He poured for us and handed me a glass. “So, here’s to new beginnings.”
We clinked glasses. Maybe he knew. I ignored my tension and forced myself to talk. “I spoke to Jeff about why it took him so long, and he said he wanted to be clear that Bob wasn’t ever going to try to fight me later. The divorce was simple since I didn’t want anything, but custody can be altered, and he didn’t want the courts ever granting Bob rights. I can’t lose my daughter, and honestly, it’s been one of my fears that Bob might show up and destroy this life we’ve just started to enjoy.”
I’d said his name, and I hadn’t exploded. I’d been afraid of my ex’s name, as though if I said it, he’d just show up.
Arman smiled. “So you like being in Manhattan?”
I let out a breath. He hadn’t even noticed my fear. I sipped the wine. “I am enjoying planning this wedding.”
He took out silverware, and I grabbed the plates, and we set the table together. “Good. You always had ideas on how to bring people together while having fun.”
We had a synchronicity and a common desire. I shook my head and told myself we weren’t anything. “That’s not a talent.”
He stopped and stared down at me. “You do better than the professionals I’ve hired.”
Planning parties and activities while keeping adults entertained wasn’t that hard. It wasn’t that different from planning for teenagers. “Yeah?”
He came closer, and my muscles tensed. “I can show you receipts, but that wouldn’t convince you.”
Heat rose in my face. “I don’t need receipts.” I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But he didn’t need to be nice either. The timer chimed. I stepped back. “Dinner is done.”
He followed me into the kitchen. I opened the oven door but realized I’d forgotten my oven mitts. I turned and saw he’d already put them on. He reached in and took out the pan. “This looks pretty good.”
I placed the pad down between us so as not to ruin his table. He then put the pot on it. I said, “Well, it’s not your mom’s lamb stew.”
He winked. “Ghormeh sabzi is one of my favorites, but I only get it these days when I’m visiting her.”
That wasn’t fair. He was so perfect. I needed to do more nice things for him. We took our seats, and I said, “I’ll ask her for the recipe. You shouldn’t have to eat your favorite food only when visiting parents.”
We sipped our wine and waited for the food to cool. No words were said, but I was okay. Then my phone rang, and I ran and grabbed it.
Arman called behind me, “That must be Aurora.”
I walked back to the table and waved for him to stand up. “I’ll invite her up here if that’s okay.”
“Sounds nice.” He rushed into his bedroom with me. We had to get dressed before my daughter saw us.
I vowed to myself to find more things to do for Arman. It wasn’t fair how much he’d helped me already. If I couldn’t give him the ultimate pleasure he gave me, there were other ways to help him be happy, and I was determined to find them.
