Page 51 of Keeping Skylar
“You do realise you’re setting the bar ridiculously high, right? I’m going to expect this every night from now on.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “Well, lucky for you, I actually love cooking.” I wink as I reach for the cutlery and slice into the salmon. “It’s just a small thank-you dinner for letting me stayat your place,” I add, popping a piece into my mouth with a satisfied hum.
I watch as she cuts a generous piece of salmon and lifts it to her mouth. The moment she takes her first bite, her eyes flutter shut, and she lets out a soft, involuntary moan of delight. I can’t help but grin at her reaction.
“Oh. My. God. Heath! This is the best thing I have ever tasted in my life. And no, I’m not saying it to be polite. It’s the honest truth,” she declares, and takes another bite of her salmon. “Hannah wasn’t lying when she said you’re an incredible cook.”
I laugh, and take a small sip of my drink. “I’m glad you approve. I love cooking, but it doesn’t compare to the joy and satisfaction I see on people’s faces after they’ve taken their first bite of my food.”
“It’s insane how delicious this is. Are all these your own recipes?”
“Yes and no. The ones that are not my own, I usually make with a slight twist.”
She takes a sip of her mojito and her eyes widen. “Good lord! Even this cocktail tastes amazing.” She moans as she gulps down more of her drink.
“You’re too good for my ego, you know that, Skylar.”
She gives me a small, shy smile. “Can I ask where this love of cooking came from?”
I chug down half of my cocktail as I prepare myself to reveal one of the happiest and darkest periods of my life. “I started when I was eight. My Aunt Julia, who often babysat Hannah and me when we were younger, was always cooking things from scratch. We spent a lot of time in the kitchen, helping her prepare meals. I fell in love with it instantly, while Hannah, on the other hand, preferred to sneak away and snack on the ingredients.” The last part causes Skylar to laugh.
I smile at the memory of Hannah sneaking pieces of food in her mouth when our backs were turned. Little did she know, Aunt Julia was always watching.
“Anyway, it was through my aunt where my passion for cooking stemmed from. She taught me how to make a variety of cuisines and desserts. I was always looking forward to our cooking lessons together.”
“I’d love to meet her one day. I’m actually surprised Hannah has never mentioned her,” she casually informs me.
My eyes instinctively shut as memories of the most traumatic time of our lives flood my mind,the moment when everything changed forever. When I open them again, Skylar is watching me closely, her brow furrowed in concern, a silent question in her eyes.
“She passed away when Hannah and I were sixteen. She was killed in a head-on collision with a drunk driver whose licence had been suspended for a year. Both of them died on impact. She was only thirty-four.”
I remember that day as if it were just yesterday when we learnt about my aunt’s passing. After her funeral, I completely shut down, refusing to speak to anyone, not even Hannah. In the weeks that followed, I spiralled out of control, getting into all kinds of trouble; skipping school, stealing, underage drinking, sex, and drugs.
My parents were so concerned that I’d end up in juvenile prison that they signed me up to a youth cadet program in hopes of getting me back on the straight and narrow.
What I didn’t realise at the time was how much the program would end up saving my life. My parents at least gave me the freedom to choose which cadet program I wanted to take part in. Aunt Julia and I shared a deep love for the sea, in addition to our passion for cooking, so it was an obvious choice for me to join the navy cadets.
Skylar hasn’t taken her eyes off me, her face reflecting a mix of sadness and sympathy.
In an effort to lift the sombre mood, I raise my glass for a toast. “Here’s to Aunt Julia, the finest cook I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”
She gives me a warm smile and gently clinks her glass against mine before chugging down her cocktail. “Wherever she is now, I just know that she’s proud of the man you’ve become,” she says, and I feel an overwhelming urge to hug her.
“Means a lot to me to hear that. Thank you, Skylar.” I smile. “Enough about me. What’s your story?”
Her expression quickly shifts, a look of discomfort crossing her beautiful face, and I inwardly chastise myself for asking such an intrusive question.
“Sorry, that was a little too forward. You don’t have to answer that,” I apologise.
She shakes her head and sighs. “No, it’s okay. It’s just ... I haven’t really talked about it in months—except with your sister, and even then, only in bits and pieces. But I feel I owe you a story, considering you just shared a very deep and personal one with me.”
“Only if you’re ready, Skylar. There’s no rush,” I assure her.
After gazing at her empty plate for a few minutes, she finally musters the courage to speak. “I moved here three and a half months ago from Sydney, after walking away from my husband who I’d been with for ten years. I found out he’d been having an affair with someone I thought was a good friend. They betrayed me in the worst possible way by sneaking behind my back and falling in love. And I ... I stayed for a little while, pretending everything was fine—until I finally found the strength to leave.”
Fuck!That was not what I was expecting to hear. You’d have to be a complete idiot or out of your mind to cheat on someone like Skylar. To me, she seems like the perfect, ideal woman, someoneyou’d go above and beyond for to keep in your life. I may not know who her ex-husband is, but one thing’s crystal clear—he’s a complete fuckwit!
“I read every text message, saw every photo they took together, and listened to every lie he told. But what finally gave me the courage to leave for good was walking in on them—having sex in the home I shared with my husband.”
