Elena's POV:
The morning light filters across the table, warm and soft, but my body is anything but calm.
I stab my fork into the food and sigh. Last night keeps replaying in my head like a fucking broken radio.
What happened wasn't even something so big, so I don't know why I can't get it out of my head.
His hand on my skin. The tingling feeling that spread throughout my body at his touch. His breath ghosting my chin, hot and heavy. And the brush of his thumb on my lips.
Arggghh!!!
My stomach twists. The same way it did last night. I don't know why my body keeps fucking betraying me in front of this man, like get a grip already!
He barely touched me, but I could already feel the warmth between my legs.
I shake my head, no. I can't dwell on this. It was just a stupid moment that felt way too intense, considering how little of an action it was. I'm probably ovulating. I'm sure that's what it is, cause there's no way I'm behaving like this just cause someone touched my fucking face.
I really need to keep up with my Flo app, dammit!
I stuff more food into my mouth, chewing aggressively. Just when I think I've pushed the thought out, another memory pops up.
The soup was good
Warmth spreads throughout my face as I remember his words.
He ate the soup.
For the first time yesterday, he finally took something I offered him. And he finished it, too. And he said it was good.
Somehow that little compliment had done a number on me yesterday for some inexplicable reason.
It just felt good hearing it from him. And I hate that it did.
I groan loudly, palming my face with both hands.
Forcing my attention back to my food, I clear my plate in a swoop.
When I'm done, I take care of my plate alone. There's no way I'd leave it for Lucia.
I turn off the TV with a sigh. This is not working. Every day, it's the same fucking routine. I wake, eat, bum around, then sleep. Who lives like that? I'm not doing anything productive, and it's eating me up. I've never been more bored in my life.
Should I get a job? At least it'll keep me busy, and get my mind off things. Off a certain someone, most especially.
But would Adrian even agree to let me get a job, though? That's the most important question.
I mean, would he really let his "wife" work?
He'll probably be thinking about what people would say.
An idea pops into my head. What if I cook for him again? It seemed like he liked my cooking yesterday, even though he feigned nonchalance. I'll just use it as a peace offering of some sort.
Okay! That's what I'll do.
I get up immediately and head for the kitchen to cook up something small, but nice.
Once the gas comes off, I hear footsteps emerge from behind me.
He's back.
My heartbeat increases with every step he takes towards me.
"What's this?"
I grab a bowl and scoop some food into it before turning to face him.
"Uhh…food. It's nice. And it's still hot, so it's best if you eat it now."
His jaw flexes. "I didn't ask you to make me food."
"I know that. But I was making something for myself, so I thought to make some for you, too."
"I don't need you doing that, Elena," his voice is sharp. I swallow.
"It's just food, Adrian. You ate the soup last..."
"So?"
I blink, stunned.
"I only ate it because it was convenient, and I wouldn't want it to go to waste, but that doesn't mean that it's going to become a routine."
"Lucia cooks enough food for the both of us, so I don't know why you bother with this."
My heart dips.
"I just thought to do something nice, that's all. And there was nothing else in this house for me to do, either."
"You don't have to be rude," my voice cracks a little, and something flashes in his eyes for a second.
"I'm not being rude. I'm just being plain. You don't need to do things for me. Especially things I didn't ask for."
"Fine," I grit, then turn and pour the food back into the pot. Agitation swarms me.
I'm going to say it now. He's already rejected me, so it's better I just put it out there at once. What's the worst that could happen?
"I'm tired of this house," I say with my back to him. "It's just big and empty, and I'm tired of lazing around all day, doing nothing."
"I've told you, you're free to do anything in the house. No one's stopping you."
"That's the thing. There's nothing in this house. Do I swim all day, or work out, or watch movies, or what? Those aren't things I want to be productive."
"So,..what are you trying to say?" He drawls.
I inhale a deep breath, then turn and face him again. "I want to get a job." I lift my chin up stubbornly, hoping he'll see I'm serious.
But then, what he does next surprises me deeply.
He throws his head back and laughs. Loudly. A deep, rich laugh that comes from his stomach and vibrates in his throat, echoing through the space.
Something about the sight twists something in me. Something pleasant. I think this is the first time I've seen his teeth. Or his smile. But he looks fucking good when he laughs.
"You're joking," his face morphs back to his usual expression. Indifference. And a wave of disappointment washes over me.
"I'm not," I bite out.
We stare at each other for seconds, none of us saying anything. Then—
"No."
"What do you mean, no?"
"It means you're not getting a job."
"But why?" I frown.
"You don't need one, Elena," he says with visible irritation, like the idea of it alone is absurd.
"I didn't say I needed one. I don't need to need a job, to want to work."
"Yeah,...that's not happening."
"Adrian," I call out, trying to keep my composure, and not lash out. "I'm serious about this."
"And who says I'm not?" He puts a hand in his pocket. "I'm not letting you work, Elena. You're my wife. If you need money, ask. If you want to go shopping, say it, and I'll assign guards to you. You're not confined to the four walls of this house."
"Money is not the problem here, Adrian, you're not listening to me."
"I am," he breathes. Then stares at me with narrowed eyes, as if trying to study me or get something out of me.
"But if you really insist on wanting to work, then I can clear up a position for you in one of my companies, so I can keep an eye on you."
Absolutely not. That'd be worse. I'd be around the man all day.
"No. I don't want your charity job."
"It's not a charity job," he says with sarcasm. "But since you don't want it, then it's fine.
But you're not working. That's the least I can do for you."
He's about to leave.
"Adrian..." I rush out, stopping him. "I don't want to work for you. I want to be my own person, do something I like."
His gaze narrows expectantly.
"And what is it that you like?"
Fuck! What do I like? I think for some seconds. Right!
"Baking!" I blurt.
He blinks. Slowly. "You…want to bake?"
"Yes. Is there anything wrong with that?" I straighten my shoulders.
He looks at me like I just said the dumbest shit. "You," he points a finger at me. "Want to work in a public building, behind a counter, along with strangers, serving people?"
I send him a questioning look. I mean, isn't that the whole point of it?
"Is there anything wrong with that?"
"There is everything wrong with that."
I fold my arms over my chest, and I swear I see Adrian's eyes dart down to my breasts for a fraction of a second.
I swallow before I speak. "It's just baking. It's not that deep."
"It's unsafe."
"Oh my God, Adrian," I groan, rolling my eyes.
"It's not unsafe. Okay, what's the worst that could happen? A kidnapping? Or is someone going to poison one of the ingredients or something? It's just work, literally."
"Trust me, there are a billion ways for someone to hurt you, Elena. Especially outside of these walls. In here, I can at least keep an eye on you for your safety, but I can't do that when you're out of my reach."
"I can promise you, nothing is going to happen. You're just being dramatic."
"I'm being realistic," he hisses.
We stare at each other for seconds, but he doesn't say anything. "So that's it? You still won't let me?"
Still nothing.
"Fine! Whatever," I mutter under my breath, then take off my apron and slam it on the counter. I head for the stairs, but as I walk past him, an arm darts out, clutching my wrist and pulling me back.
"Where are you going?"
"To bed," I grit.
"We're not done talking," his grip tightens slightly.
"Ohhh…we were?" I ask, feigning surprise. 'Cause last I checked, he wasn't fucking talking.
He inhales deeply before he speaks. "You don't know what you're asking. You don't understand..."
"I understand perfectly. You say that I'm free to do what I want, but I know that I'll never truly be free with you, because the one thing I want for myself, you won't give me." I push back the anger, threatening to escape me.
He lets go of my wrist and runs a hand through his hair. The action stirs something low in my stomach.
My God, Elena! This is a serious moment!
"We'll talk about this later," he says.
"You mean, when I've given up?"
"I mean when you're calm."
"I am calm," I retort sharply.
"Just go to bed, Elena. We'll talk," he breathes, probably irritated with me. To be fair, I was going. He's the one who stopped me.
I narrow my eyes at him. "Promise?"
His brow lifts slightly, "Don't push it."
"You need to promise, Adrian, or I'm not going."
He sighs, and runs his hand through his hair again. If he keeps doing that, he's going to go bald fast.
"Fine. I promise."
A smile creeps on my face, but I turn my expression neutral again quick, victory humming in my chest.
I feel like I've won the argument tonight.
"Now,.. go to bed."
"Are you sure you don't want something to eat? I could still scoop up a little something for you," I urge, amusement dancing in my chest.
"Elena..." he pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Fine, I'm going!" I walk out before he'll change his mind, but I see his lips hunch upward slightly. An amused smirk. I hide my own smile as I head for my room.
The weight of his stare on my back follows me till I'm out of his sight, and somehow…I like it.