Page 30 of Friends That Heal Us
She looks up at me, shaking her head. “It looks great.”
My cheeks rise high with a smile as I say, “Let’s eat then.”
I watch her cut her first bite and bring it towards her lips. I have cooked for her so many times before, but right now I’m nervous as if it’s my first time cooking for her. My eyes stay pressed on her, searching for a sign. Is she going to like it? She likes her steak medium. Is it too rare or overcooked? Did I mess it up?
She grabs her napkin, dabs her mouth. Her eyes flicker to me. “What?”
I lean forward. “Is it good?”
“Yes.” She pauses while setting her napkin down. “Your cooking is always good.”
I let out a small sigh as relief washes over me. I grab my utensils and start cutting my first bite. The second the steak hits my mouth, my taste buds go wild. The smoky-rich taste melts in my mouth. This is damn good. I should never have second-guessed myself.
I clear my voice. “So I have to come clean about something.”
Her eyes slowly lock with mine, and her brows knit together as if she’s bracing herself for bad news.
“It’s nothing bad,” I quickly add.
She lets out a sigh. “Ezzz.” She giggles. “Don’t start with those words. It sounds like bad news, and I can’t take anymore bad news.”
My face winces as my shoulders lift. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes search mine. “It’s okay. What is it?”
“I felt…” My words drift off, and suddenly I’m aware of how quiet the entire house is. She tilts her head, her eyes narrowing towards me. She’s going to think this is really stupid of me to feel this way or laugh. Why did I think it was a good idea to tell her this?
I glance up at her and say, “I had an off feeling when I started using the grill to make the steaks.”
Her brows knit together. “Why?”
I shrug my shoulders and my eyes drift down to my plate. “It felt weird because I was using another man’s grill when he wasn’t around,” I answer with my voice low.
Her expression softens as she leans back in her chair. “Oh. Well, don’t be. It’s mine.”
My mouth falls open in confusion. “What! It’s yours?”
She leans back up, cutting another piece of her steak. “Yes. Zayn hardly ever cooked.” She pauses a moment as if she is deciding whether she wants to continue telling me why. She clears her throat. “He always said only women should do the cooking.”
If my mouth weren’t already open, I’d say it hit the floor. I’m appalled, shocked, and so confused, all at the same time. I don’t know how to feel about that.
It’s so fucked up.
My hands curl into fists down by my side. I’m speechless staring at this beautiful woman sitting in front of me and how big of a coward her husband is.
And yet I’m shocked that I’m shocked.
“I remember you telling me he does the barbecuing,” I say, thinking back to the early morning conversation we had in my kitchen about our spouses cooking for us.
“I was embarrassed at the time to tell you he rarely cooks. So I said he barbecues.”
“But…” I pause, thinking of the right questions to ask. I don’t want to make her seem like I’m judging her for being with a man like that. Even though I judge myself for being with a woman like Rya. “So Zayn didn’t like to grill? That’s what most men like to do if they don’t cook.”
She shakes her head. “He hardly did any cooking. So I bought myself that grill.” Her chin tips towards the backyard where the grill is. She turns back to me and lets out a bitter laugh. “What does that say about me that I stayed with the man?”
My heart drops. I take her hand in mine. “Oh, Vi, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m shocked at how big of a dumbass he is.”
She squeezes my hand slightly. “I know you didn’t mean it like that. I’m realizing so much now in such a short amount of time and I’m baffled by it all—like how I couldn’t see it until now.”
