Page 88 of Bound By Flames
Not only does he look way too good, in a this-should-be-illegal to look this good kind of way. But he cares for me, and that…damn it, that adds gasoline to the fire already burning inside me.
The way he defended me? It was hard to stay composed when a man like him has your back like that. I catch myself staring across the table, watching him. He glances at me and smirks like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, and I swear, it’s like he’s turning up the heat on purpose.
Kiara keeps looking at me with a knowing smile.
“Stop this immediately.” I whisper to her.
“You stop this!” She giggles.
She keeps on talking about her tennis competition. Ares is listening to her with attention which makes my heart only pound harder at the sight of him trying to connect with my sister.
“My coach helps me break old patterns. He made me train with other students and—” Kiara says, but suddenly, all I can think of is him.
Him and the promise of us.
Do I have the guts to accept happiness? What would I need to finally be secure in our relationship? Lust? No, lust can be given and thrown away in an instant, and I’d rather hold back than give myself to someone who won’t find the value of it.
“Here, Mrs Malone,” says one of the waiters. We have a lot of staff here. Too much actually, but I guess it’s more of an image thing than anything else. Butlers, bodyguards, chauffeurs, gardeners, maids… A little circus running around with no purpose other than to make my parents drown in their money and illusion of endless wealth. I know for a fact that Ares is twice as rich as my parents, and still, he lives way more simply. I much prefer having Maria and Larry at home. It’s simpler and much quieter.
Did you say home?
I look at the plate the man just laid in front of me.
Nope. No way.
Looking up at my family, I notice they all have been served, like me, a large piece of meat with potatoes, white sauce, and fried vegetables.
Why did she do that?
She knows I can’t eat that.
I hate that my mother still does not care about my eating disorder. It’s not like she has never heard me cry myself out each night after dinner when they forced me to finish my plateor sometimes just make me sleep without eating, depending on their moods.
She never said it, but given her thinness, which jumped to my eyes since I haven’t seen her in a while, she does have an eating disorder too. Only her orthorexia manifests in a completely different way. She thinks in matters of eliminating calories with fitness rather than in a poison kind of way. She can eat a plate like this one as long as it’s not overly processed. Then, she’ll just spend two hours on the treadmill and call it a day.
But I can’t.
“Bon appétit everybody!” she says, clapping in her hand, locking her eyes on me with a devious smirk.
Fuck you, Mom.
“Excuse me,” I ask the waiter behind me, “could you ask Lucius to make me green steamed vegetables with tofu on the side, please? Say it’s Mia. He’ll know what to do,” I command as nicely and calmly as I can, gathering the strength the presence of my husband gives me to stand up for myself. He nods and disappears to the kitchen. Lucius has been with us for years; he’s always been understanding of my habits, but orders were orders, and my parents always had the final word. When it was just me in the house, I could come down to the kitchen, sit on the counter top and he would cook for me in a way I liked, never bothering me with judgment. Not everything was bad here. He reminds me of Larry a lot, actually.
My dad opens his mouth to speak, but Ares’s words cut the silence like a sharp knife. “Don’t even try.”
I smile at my husband, his chest high as he looks at me with a fire burning in his deep green gaze. The dining room is much smaller than in my memory, the painting of abstract shapes and golden sculptures looking surprisingly dull now.
“How long are you guys staying?” asks Kiara, cutting her steak.
“We’re leaving tomorrow morning, but you’re welcome in our house anytime,” Ares says to her, “I’m building a tennis court that should be done soon. You should be the first to try it.”
I had no idea he was building a tennis court.
Did he just have the idea now that he knows she’s into tennis?
“OMG, yes! Mom, can I go soon? Like after the winter break, please, please?” she pleads, joining her hands.
“Kiara, we have guests; don’t get all whiny,” our mother spits back.
