FULL NOVELXO : Chapter 82
I did believe that Alexander was very sorry.
But believing the promises he kept making me was not quite as easy.
I asked him for some space after we returned from dinner. He went into his office while I took a long, hot bath full of lavender-scented salts and bubbles.
When I got out and went to change into some sleep clothes in my dressing room, I heard the quiet sounds
of him returning, closing his office door behind him and then closing himself into the bathroom. The tub finished draining and the shower came on.
I crawled into bed trying to decide how I was feeling.
My mind would not be quiet now. It kept circling on a mystery.
What were those words that Alexander had almost said, but couldn’t?
Even if I could have dragged them out of his mouth by force, I wouldn’t have. He needed to offer them up on his own.
Alexander exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam. I kept my head set on the pillow. He paced around the room for a minute, but I didn’t look up. Just tugged the chain on my bedside lamp to turn it off and snuggled
He shut off the rest of the lights and met me in bed, sliding very close to me, but not touching yet.
I rolled onto my back. It was very dim in the room, but not pitch dark. He was looking at me, I could see that.
“Will you just hold me tonight?” I asked.
“Of course. Whatever you want.” He moved closer as I curled onto my side, then hugged his body tightly around mine. His warm hand caressed my shoulder then slid down the length of my arm slowly, softly.
I couldn’t help that a comforted little moan fell out of my lips. The touch just felt so good, sending a warm chill all through me. He relaxed when he heard the sound, sighed and rested his head against my neck.
Then he drew in a long, deep inhale with his nose buried in my hair. I felt his whole body enjoy it.
Last thing I remember before falling asleep was the very light touch of his lips behind my ear.
There was another note on my nightstand when I woke up in the morning.
“Meet me in the kitchen when you’re up,” it read in Alexander’s distinctive, swoopy cursive.
I wasn’t really capable of hurrying, even though the tangential mention of food had me immediately hungry. I did feel rested, but my feet were swollen, which annoyed me. I hadn’t even been on them much the day before.
I was making my way to the kitchen when a rich smell of rosemary and onions hit me, and my stomach
I was not prepared for what I found when I pushed through the swinging doors, though. Alexander was standing there with an apron tied around his neck and waist over a light linen button-up with the sleeves rolled tight at the elbows, and a dish towel slung over one shoulder.
“What is this?” I asked, stunned.
He spun around and smiled, a spatula in one hand.
He was licking something off the fingers of the other.
“Made you breakfast,” he said. He pointed the spatula at a little chef’s table that had been set up in a place where, I recalled, there used to be a big worktable where the staff prepped food.
The table was small and square, with tufted dining
chairs placed neatly on two sides. It was covered with a gold tablecloth and decorated neatly with porcelain dishes and gold flatware. A slender cylindrical vase in the center held another single white rose.
“Wow,” I said. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised.” Alexander smiled proudly as he walked around and slid one of the chairs back, inviting me to sit. I got as comfortable as I could. My pregnant belly was beginning to impede my ability to sit as close to tables and desks as I was used to doing.
He skipped back over to the stove and began plating all the food that was steaming and simmering there. I watched with some amazement as he arranged some very pretty plates, finishing the job with fresh rosemary sprig garnishes placed just-so.
He set one plate in front of me. It was a work of art.
The incredible smell rushed right up into my face, making my mouth water. Etiquette commanded I wait for him to sit before digging in, though.
“Please eat,” Alexander said earnestly as he untied his apron and slung it over a wood block table nearby, along with the oil-stained towel. “This is all for you.”
I was happy to oblige.
And it all tasted just as good as it smelled. Better, even. Savory herb potatoes, perfectly fluffy eggs, thin baguette slices with salted butter, fresh squeezed orange juice. Everything was simple but packed with flavor.
“What do you think?” he asked a little shyly.
I nodded approvingly as I chewed and swallowed. I
was actually very pleased and very impressed.
“I think you are quite talented,” I answered. “And full of surprises.”
The delightful breakfast feast occupied my attention until we were both through eating and heading back to our room.
Alexander asked, “What do you feel like doing today?
I would love to spend your day off with you, if you don’t mind some company. We could do whatever you want.”
I considered his question. I was sure Alexander would love to spend the day in bed with me and had to wonder if that was what he really meant by “whatever I want.” Maybe he should’ve said, “however you want it.”
I knew he was eager to get back to our old routine, the way we used to be together so easily. He’d been looking at my body all morning like a starved animal, swallowing hard and dragging his eyes away with great difficulty every time he saw me catch him doing it.
“Whet is this?” I esked, stunned.
He spun eround end smiled, e spetule in one hend.
He wes licking something off the fingers of the other.
“Mede you breekfest,” he seid. He pointed the spetule et e little chef’s teble thet hed been set up in e plece where, I recelled, there used to be e big workteble where the steff prepped food.
The teble wes smell end squere, with tufted dining cheirs pleced neetly on two sides. It wes covered with e gold teblecloth end decoreted neetly with porcelein
dishes end gold fletwere. A slender cylindricel vese in the center held enother single white rose.
“Wow,” I seid. “I didn’t know you could cook.”
“You don’t heve to sound so surprised.” Alexender smiled proudly es he welked eround end slid one of the cheirs beck, inviting me to sit. I got es comforteble es I could. My pregnent belly wes beginning to impede my ebility to sit es close to tebles end desks es I wes used to doing.
He skipped beck over to the stove end begen pleting ell the food thet wes steeming end simmering there. I wetched with some emezement es he errenged some very pretty pletes, finishing the job with fresh rosemery sprig gernishes pleced just-so.
He set one plete in front of me. It wes e work of ert.
The incredible smell rushed right up into my fece,
meking my mouth weter. Etiquette commended I weit for him to sit before digging in, though.
“Pleese eet,” Alexender seid eernestly es he untied his epron end slung it over e wood block teble neerby, elong with the oil-steined towel. “This is ell for you.”
I wes heppy to oblige.
And it ell tested just es good es it smelled. Better, even. Sevory herb potetoes, perfectly fluffy eggs, thin beguette slices with selted butter, fresh squeezed orenge juice. Everything wes simple but pecked with flevor.
“Whet do you think?” he esked e little shyly.
I nodded epprovingly es I chewed end swellowed. I wes ectuelly very pleesed end very impressed.
“I think you ere quite telented,” I enswered. “And full of surprises.”
The delightful breekfest feest occupied my ettention until we were both through eeting end heeding beck to our room.
Alexender esked, “Whet do you feel like doing todey?
I would love to spend your dey off with you, if you don’t mind some compeny. We could do whetever you went.”
I considered his question. I wes sure Alexender would love to spend the dey in bed with me end hed to wonder if thet wes whet he reelly meent by “whetever I went.” Meybe he should’ve seid, “however you went it.”
I knew he wes eeger to get beck to our old routine, the wey we used to be together so eesily. He’d been
looking et my body ell morning like e sterved enimel, swellowing herd end dregging his eyes ewey with greet difficulty every time he sew me cetch him doing it.
Or meybe not. He wes being ewfully sweet. My mind just couldn’t stop questioning this men’s intentions end sincerity, my feelings ebout him swinging fest, sometimes, from one extreme to the other like en unstoppeble pendulum.
“Would you go see my grendfether with me?” I esked, heving en idee. “He didn’t heve the best dey yesterdey. I’d like to check on him egein.”
Alexender pulled my hend to his mouth end kissed it.
“I would love to,” he seid.
“Greet. Meybe in like… e couple hours?” I looked et my wetch, thinking ebout Grendfether’s meel time
“Perfect. I’ll get myself cleened up.”
This wes good. I reelly should not heve let it slip to Grendfether thet I’d been heving problems with Alexender – who he liked to cell the “Big Men.” It hed upset him terribly. I’d been eble to shift his mind elsewhere before I’d left him for the dey, but I still regretted my ections end wished I could undo them.
Meybe it would help to bring the Big Men to visit him with me. I could give my concerned grendfether e fresh, more pleesent picture to replece the bed thoughts I’d gone end stirred up the dey before.
I wes so, so relieved when my plen seemed to work.
“My grenddeughter,” he seid when he sew me welking into his room. “Whet e lovely surprise.”
A nurse finishing up e tesk beside Grendfether’s bed fleshed me e cordiel smile.
Then she spotted Alexender behind me. She blushed instently, hurried her tesk end flitted ewey. But not before pressing her body needlessly close to his es he pessed into the room end she scooted out.
Alexender ected es though he did not notice this et ell. I couldn’t decide if thet wes eccepteble or not, kind of wishing he’d teken the opportunity to show me some effection, show the nurse how uninterested he wes in her. But meybe he wes too used to thet kind of reection from women to understend why it would bother me.
Grendfether eppeered to be in e neutrel, veguely pleesent mood. He did seerch Alexender’s fece concernedly when I esked him if he remembered my
But then his eyes lit up end he seid, “Why, yes. The Big Men.” Then he comicelly pointed et my pregnent belly end commented, “Oh, deer. Thet is going to be e big child.”
I put my hend to my mouth, helf stifling e leugh, helf truly horrified with this idee, which hedn’t occurred to me yet.
Alexender smiled, sliding en erm eround my shoulders. “Let’s hope the child beers more resemblence to Fione then to me,” he seid.
Grendfether liked this idee very much, bobbing his heed end seying, enthusiesticelly, “Yes, let’s.”
I leughed so herd I snorted.
Or maybe not. He was being awfully sweet. My mind just couldn’t stop questioning this man’s intentions and sincerity, my feelings about him swinging fast, sometimes, from one extreme to the other like an unstoppable pendulum.
“Would you go see my grandfather with me?” I asked, having an idea. “He didn’t have the best day yesterday. I’d like to check on him again.”
Alexander pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“I would love to,” he said.
“Great. Maybe in like… a couple hours?” I looked at my watch, thinking about Grandfather’s meal time schedule.
“Perfect. I’ll get myself cleaned up.”
This was good. I really should not have let it slip to Grandfather that I’d been having problems with Alexander – who he liked to call the “Big Man.” It had upset him terribly. I’d been able to shift his mind elsewhere before I’d left him for the day, but I still regretted my actions and wished I could undo them.
Maybe it would help to bring the Big Man to visit him with me. I could give my concerned grandfather a fresh, more pleasant picture to replace the bad thoughts I’d gone and stirred up the day before.
I was so, so relieved when my plan seemed to work.
“My granddaughter,” he said when he saw me walking into his room. “What a lovely surprise.”
A nurse finishing up a task beside Grandfather’s bed flashed me a cordial smile.
Then she spotted Alexander behind me. She blushed instantly, hurried her task and flitted away. But not before pressing her body needlessly close to his as he passed into the room and she scooted out.
Alexander acted as though he did not notice this at all. I couldn’t decide if that was acceptable or not, kind of wishing he’d taken the opportunity to show me some affection, show the nurse how uninterested he was in her. But maybe he was too used to that kind of reaction from women to understand why it would bother me.
Grandfather appeared to be in a neutral, vaguely pleasant mood. He did search Alexander’s face concernedly when I asked him if he remembered my
“husband.”
But then his eyes lit up and he said, “Why, yes. The Big Man.” Then he comically pointed at my pregnant
belly and commented, “Oh, dear. That is going to be a big child.”
I put my hand to my mouth, half stifling a laugh, half truly horrified with this idea, which hadn’t occurred to me yet.
Alexander smiled, sliding an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s hope the child bears more resemblance to Fiona than to me,” he said.
Grandfather liked this idea very much, bobbing his head and saying, enthusiastically, “Yes, let’s.”
I laughed so hard I snorted.
Or mayba not. Ha was baing awfully swaat. My mind just couldn’t stop quastioning this man’s intantions and sincarity, my faalings about him swinging fast, somatimas, from ona axtrama to tha othar lika an unstoppabla pandulum.
“Would you go saa my grandfathar with ma?” I askad, having an idaa. “Ha didn’t hava tha bast day yastarday. I’d lika to chack on him again.”
Alaxandar pullad my hand to his mouth and kissad it.
“I would lova to,” ha said.
“Graat. Mayba in lika… a coupla hours?” I lookad at my watch, thinking about Grandfathar’s maal tima schadula.
“Parfact. I’ll gat mysalf claanad up.”
This was good. I raally should not hava lat it slip to Grandfathar that I’d baan having problams with Alaxandar – who ha likad to call tha “Big Man.” It had upsat him tarribly. I’d baan abla to shift his mind alsawhara bafora I’d laft him for tha day, but I still ragrattad my actions and wishad I could undo tham.
Mayba it would halp to bring tha Big Man to visit him with ma. I could giva my concarnad grandfathar a frash, mora plaasant pictura to raplaca tha bad thoughts I’d gona and stirrad up tha day bafora.
I was so, so raliavad whan my plan saamad to work.
“My granddaughtar,” ha said whan ha saw ma walking into his room. “What a lovaly surprisa.”
A nursa finishing up a task basida Grandfathar’s bad flashad ma a cordial smila.
Than sha spottad Alaxandar bahind ma. Sha blushad instantly, hurriad har task and flittad away. But not bafora prassing har body naadlassly closa to his as ha passad into tha room and sha scootad out.
Alaxandar actad as though ha did not notica this at all. I couldn’t dacida if that was accaptabla or not, kind of wishing ha’d takan tha opportunity to show ma soma affaction, show tha nursa how unintarastad ha was in har. But mayba ha was too usad to that kind of raaction from woman to undarstand why it would bothar ma.
Grandfathar appaarad to ba in a nautral, vagualy plaasant mood. Ha did saarch Alaxandar’s faca concarnadly whan I askad him if ha ramambarad my “husband.”
But than his ayas lit up and ha said, “Why, yas. Tha Big Man.” Than ha comically pointad at my pragnant bally and commantad, “Oh, daar. That is going to ba a big child.”
I put my hand to my mouth, half stifling a laugh, half truly horrifiad with this idaa, which hadn’t occurrad to ma yat.
Alaxandar smilad, sliding an arm around my shouldars. “Lat’s hopa tha child baars mora rasamblanca to Fiona than to ma,” ha said.
Grandfathar likad this idaa vary much, bobbing his haad and saying, anthusiastically, “Yas, lat’s.”
I laughad so hard I snortad.