Chapter 22: Chapter 22
We saunter into the beauteous kitchen and embark on making breakfast. He is making the sausages and bacon, while I am making tea. It is what we agreed on before leaving the bedroom, and we get down on it, spicing our moment together with a few teases and flattery. I must confess that I am enthralled by some of the changes he has embraced over the years, like this-cooking. He was always of the affirmative opinion that kitchens were for women back then.
I can still vividly recall that my first task every time I went to his house those days was to clean his used dishes from days ago and collect pizza boxes from all corners of the house. He was a messy, sweet jerk back then. And now he is all cool and willed to do this. If I hadn’t witnessed him doing this, I most definitely would not have believed it coming from someone else’s mouth. This is probably the only thing marriage has done to him aside from robbing him of his jovial nature.
“Someone can’t take their eyes off me, huh?” He says this without looking at me as he takes off the mittens, placing the ready bacon and sausages on the tray. I presume he was watching me study him from the corners of his eyes all this time. It is none of his fault, though. I was so obviously staring.
That reminds me... My tea must be ready. I should take it out now, and I was about to do so until he turned to me with a bewitching, mischievous grin as he started towards me. I forget what I was supposed to do, and he decides to mess with my brain.
“Why? Am I that magnetic?”
Damn! That goes without a doubt. These features—who wouldn’t they charm? Well, aside from his stony, feeling-less wife, But hey, I am innocent of his accusations. I was just thinking of this new, enchanting version of him. I wasn’t drooling over him.
“I am just blown away by the idea of you in here and doing this. This wasn’t you back then?” I say, exchanging glows with him as he drapes his arms around my waist and pins me to him.
“I know. This is one of the prices I had to pay for leaving such a beautiful soul like you and marrying an obstinate psychotic bitch.”
Ouch! That is so deep. And for a moment that is too long, he gets engrossed in deep thoughts, staring into space while his grip on me tightens up with every passing second while I stare at him in sympathy.
The kind of hell he has been going through in this sham marriage is taking a toll on him. He is perhaps thinking of the pain this arrangement has brought on him and everything he could have been by now if only he wasn’t constrained to marry Mitchell. Thinking about it, I can’t help but wonder what these two would do to each other if given a chance to unleash all the bitterness and resentment they feel for each other. They might end up killing each other.
“Hey. I am here now.” I say just to pull his thoughts back to reality and wipe off the gloominess cloaking the beauty of his features, but at the same time I cannot curb the urge, the longing to belong here with him. The desire to bring back happiness and joy in his life The desire to make him complete and content He deserves that more than anyone else.
“And you have no idea what your presence means to me, Lynn. You are my light and my source of strength in this darkness.” He says this, dragging his beautiful orbs to scan my eyes and feeding me his sweet pheromones as if compensating me for being here.
But then, who is indebted to whom here? I undoubtedly owe him my life. He practically rescued me from the cliff of death. If he hadn’t shown up that night, I would have joined my family in death. That alone was enough to make me indebted to him for life, but as if that were nothing to him, he went the extra mile and paid off my debt. And then all this happiness and pleasure he is showering me with, fused with the fact that he is the reason I have the will to live again, shouldn’t all that make me more indebted to him than he is to me?
“By the way.” Our eyes lock as he starts again, pulling my thoughts back from wandering too much. “I spoke to the bank.” He states that he is confusing me.
The bank? Which bank? And, hang on... I do not remember us agreeing to him paying me for being his surrogate, did we? I know I said I would enlist the things I want as payment for this, but with all that he has done for me and all that he has promised, I don’t have anything else to ask for. Honestly, I don’t. It will be so selfish of me.
“The bank?” I query.
“Yes. You won't be losing your house anymore!”
His words hang in my head, my brain failing to digest what I think I heard. I don’t think I heard that right.
“I do… I don’t understand.” I state, my eyes parked in his, that I don’t understand a detail of what he uttered, and he does me the honor of pulling me into more bewilderment.
“I settled your loan. They will return the title deed this coming week.”
My mouth hangs agape! What?!
Somebody tell me that he hasn’t done enough. Someone, please tell me how I can ever repay him for all these With this, I owe him my life and everything I own. All that I am made of.
“You didn’t have to do that, Liam. Look, if this is because I agreed to be your surrogate that you are doing this, then please stop, okay? You have already done more than enough, please.” I plead, and he cups my face, placing a finger on my lips to perhaps stop me from ranting further.
“Didn't I tell you that I can never repay you for this? Nothing that I do will ever be enough to compensate you for this, Lynn. No amount of money can buy a life. So, no. I didn't do anything for any of this. And you are still the one to decide what you want me to do for you because of this huge sacrifice you are making for me. I am still waiting for that list you said you would write.” He says this, a small grin flickering on his lips.
Sweet. Incredible. Amazing. But all baffling.
“Then why?” I implore.
“You have lost so much, Lynn. I know I cannot bring back a lot of things that you have lost, but I don’t want you to lose anything else now that I am with you. So, anything I can afford, Lynn, I will gift you without a second thought. I want you to be happy again.” He sweetly and genuinely states this, leaving streams of tears flowing down my cheeks, and not even his attempts to dry them are yielding fruit. They just keep flowing, and I can’t control them.
Isn't he being excessively sweet? This is all so overwhelming. It is giving me hiccups.
“Hey! Please,…” Before he can shush me, a strong spark pushes me toward him, and I find myself slamming onto his chest, encompassing him in a choking hug. And he wastes no time to envelop me with his loving arms as I soil his shirt with tears.
I just need to let this all out. And believe me, these are not tears of sadness. No! They are tears of joy and gratitude. And this is the best way I can find to explain how intoxicated I am with his goodness. With his care and love, with his affection, and in everything he is doing.