Page 15 of Princesses & Pastries
We don't really say anything while he does the work that will result in laminated dough, but it's comfortable.
"I'll be back in a moment," he says as he wraps his croissant dough back up. "Will you check the oven's on?"
I nod and head over to the gas oven, assuming that's the one he means, and making sure it's warm. I take a moment to pause by Ember, who is still awake, but seems a lot more relaxed after she's eaten. I reach up and scratch her behind the horns, which makes her push her head against my hand in response. She's a good dragon. And if it were anyone other than Nate, I'd be thankful for the protectiveness she showed to me earlier.
Nate returns to the kitchen without his croissant dough and carrying the tray of scraps that we turned into something. He slides it into the oven and flips a timer, which I'm relieved to realise is only the ten-minute hourglass.
"You still haven't told me what we've made," I say.
"They're palmiers," he responds. "Kind of. They're scrap palmiers. There's a proper palmier recipe, but you might be disappointed by the waiting time on those ones."
I laugh. "I'm not that bad. It's just that when I don't have anything to do but wait, I get a little impatient."
The room soon fills with the sweet smell of baking pastry, and my mouth starts to water in response.
"They're still good though," he promises.
"I'm sure I can find out in a few minutes."
He grins at me and starts clearing up the workbench. It's easy to see how used to the process he's become in the past five years just from the way he's moving. It's not that he wasn't good at all of this before, he was, but I can tell it's different now. He left as an apprentice cook, and he's come back as a pastry chef.
The sand runs out in the timer and Nate heads back over to the oven, carefully removing the tray and bringing it over to me. The palmiers have turned golden brown in colour and I can see the layers of dough where the lamination has occurred, even if the butter was only added last minute.
I reach out to pick up one of the palmiers and blow on it to cool it down.
"You shouldn't eat them yet," Nate says. "They need to cool down first."
"Where's the fun in that?" It's hot, but it isn't too bad. I pull it apart, and I pop half of it in my mouth, letting the sweetness from the sugar and the richness of the butter explode on my tongue. Without thinking, I hold out the other half of the palmier to Nate's lips.
He pauses for a moment, seeming a little taken aback by the offer. I grimace, remembering that the time apart has changed things between us. I let myself believe it hadn't for a little while.
"I'm sorry," I murmur, turning away.
"Evie..."
I shake my head, dipping my head before he can see the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "It's fine."
He sighs. "Can we talk about this?"
"I don't know what there is to talk about." A horrible feeling settles within me. I don't want to have this conversation, but I also don't know how I can avoid it.
He takes a deep breath. "I don't want things to change between us."
"They already have." I bite my bottom lip and think about what he's suggesting. "You were gone for more than five years."
"I know."
"You're still going to be gone." My voice cracks as I say the words. "You'll be going back to Wafeland in barely over a week."
"I know," he whispers.
"I don't want you to." The words I should have said five years ago come out. "I don't want you to leave again, Nate."
"I don't want to leave," he says. "I didn't want to leave then either. Do you think I wanted to stay away for this long?" The pain in his voice is impossible to ignore.
"I know it's not your fault." But that doesn't make it hurt less. I look up, wishing I hadn't, the moment I see the pain in his normally warm brown eyes. "I wanted to ask you to stay," I whisper.
"I wanted you to ask," he says.
