I'll Take You Away From Him

Chapter 11

“I thought I was just imagining things from hunger. It smells delicious.”

William is standing in the doorway. I got so caught up in cooking, anticipating his reaction, that I didn't even hear him come in.

“I'm almost finished. Sit down,” I say, awkwardly hiding my smile.

It's the first time I’m cooking for a man, and that makes me particularly nervous. I hope he will like it; otherwise, it will be a complete failure.

“With pleasure. I only had time for a coffee in the morning, then I got caught up in things and didn’t even manage to order anything.”

“Want me to make another coffee?”

“I’ll do it myself.”

I managed to brew tea for myself. I hope Will won’t be upset that I took charge here. Anyway, it’s too late to think about that now. But he seems to be okay with it, even pleased that I prepared, as it turns out, a late breakfast.

I’m right on time. Now the main thing is that it turns out good and tasty.

As Will approaches the countertop, he turns on the coffee maker that’s sitting a bit aside. While he waits for the coffee, I take the plates to the table.

I turn back to grab a cup, but I don’t manage to do so. Catching me by the waist, Will pulls me close and leaves a gentle kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you. You know, I can get used to this quickly,” he winked at me with a smile, then let go and took both cups.

Flustered, I sat down at the table. I’ve never been drawn to doing household chores, especially cooking.

I would hang around the kitchen with the cook, but mostly to try to snag something tasty between meals. And she loved to tell me how she prepared things during that time.

Now I remember her with gratitude. It’s a shame she had to look for a new job.

We start eating in silence, but literally a minute later, after finishing his first pancake, Will breaks the silence, praising how tasty it is. I think he wouldn't say that just to be nice, because I like it too.

They’re not burnt, soft, tender; I hope I got the filling right as well. I just have chocolate in mine.

“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.”

We continue eating in silence, Will completely focused on his food, apparently really hungry, as he quickly finishes the whole portion. Maybe I didn’t calculate…

“If you’re still hungry, I can make more,” I offered.

“No. It’s just right. Thank you, someone will be lucky to have a wife like this,” he smiles.

“Yeah, especially considering that lunch has already passed, and we’re just having breakfast.”

“For such a breakfast, it can be forgiven.”

An awkward silence ensues. Will looks at me strangely, deep in thought. Almost as if he’s evaluating or hesitating. I feel uncomfortable under his gaze. Because I have that feeling again, like there’s some kind of tension slipping through the ease, invisible at first glance.

Or maybe it’s due to my anxiety and fear of ruining everything. I know I shouldn’t get worked up about it, worry, but when I like someone so much, I don’t want to lose the chance.

“I’ll have to go for a few hours. Will you stay at my place?”

“Is that okay?” I would gladly. But I’m surprised, to be honest.

He hardly knows me, yet he’s trusting me to stay in his apartment? However, I don’t know him well either, but I trusted him and went with him. Fair enough.

Though he knows where I live, where I study, and that’s already something. It wouldn’t be easy to steal something and disappear, so he couldn’t have mistaken me for some thief.

“Of course you can stay. But you don’t have to cook, even though it’s really delicious. I’ll order something and pick it up on my way back. Just one request: if you happen to change your mind and decide to leave, don’t leave the apartment unlocked. There are spare keys on the shelf; just lock up, and I’ll grab them later.”

I look at Will with wide eyes in amazement and nod like a doll.

He gets up, disappears into the bedroom, and a few minutes later comes out already dressed in a suit, with a briefcase in hand. I’m just finishing tidying up the kitchen, having thought it was better to clean up right away than leave a mess.

“I’ll try to be quick,” Will says, narrowing his eyes and taking in my appearance from head to toe.

I’m in the same dress I wore yesterday, with the apron I fortunately found from him. Otherwise, I would have had to throw the dress away after my culinary experiments.

“A kiss for a good day?” he asked with a sly smile.

I feel that lightness again that was between us yesterday. After tossing off the apron, I walk up to him, press myself against him with my whole body, and a moment later, I feel his strong hand on my lower back.

In an instant, seizing the initiative, he turns my gentle kiss into a deep, passionate, intense kiss that makes my knees weak. He hasn’t kissed me like that before, and I absolutely love it.

When Will reluctantly breaks away from me, my heart races, and there’s a fog in front of my eyes. I struggle to maintain my balance and pull my hands away from him.

After a kiss like that, letting him go is even harder. But Will leaves, no longer lingering or looking back. After closing the door, I lean back against the wall and try to catch my breath.

I will eagerly await his return. A strange feeling rises from within. After all, this role that I unexpectedly had to try on for myself is one I really like. Perhaps I would indeed make a good wife.

But only for the beloved husband.

Still, I hope it will be so.