Chapter 12

Maria

I couldn't think of a way to answer Declan’s question: Is cooking just a hobby? I don’t know. I mean, I work at a restaurant part-time and at a bakery part-time, but that was all so I could support Chloe and me growing up.

After our parent died, it was just me and my sister, I had to play the role of a mother but what I didn't know is, being a mother is not just being there, it’s the cooking, the staying up late, the worries about bills, it’s the selflessness involved. Those were things I wasn't prepared for but I had to do.

Chloe is just two years younger, but she was really a kid, and she still is. She still acts like a kid even if she is a grown-up, and I guess I spoiled her.

Leaving her to relax while I did everything, waking up early to cook for her.. For us, washing our clothes, packing lunch, and making sure she is mentally, physically, and emotionally okay.

For cooking, I picked it up along the line, honed my skills because Chloe was a critic, as much as we didn't have enough, she’d nag and cry if I made a bad meal so at first it started off as making sure Chloe likes the meal and doesn't complain, i’d watch videos online, lots of them and practice till I was good, till I enjoyed making good food, till I could use it to work and pay for our life and college.

But not once did I think deeply about cooking.

Is it just a means to survive? I don’t know… I don’t know anymore. Cooking reminds me of Chloe, it reminds me of our dead parents, it reminds me of the sacrifices that I made growing up to build a life for me and my sister.

“I’m no chef… I just enjoy cooking.” That was what I answered with and I have not been able to face him since then because I was embarrassed. After all, it wasn't the truth… It’s half the truth and Declan deserves more than a half truth, he has been so kind to me, so open, so encouraging and supporting, and not telling him the truth just makes me feel ungrateful.

I can’t look at him the way I should knowing that he asked me a sincere question and I lied. Well, half truth.

It’s been three days, the only way I know he hasn't abandoned me or that he was sure I was still in the house was the sound of the TV downstairs and my scent in the living room.

He always leaves for work early and returns not late but past 8 and on other days 10, I wonder what he does.

But you know what… fuck it… I’m done hiding.. There is nothing to hide.

So this morning I woke up very early, took my bath, and went down to the kitchen. I put on the apron and went to the wall in the food store that he pointed to that night.

And I stood, jaw agape, It wasn't a store, it was hardly a store, he barely had anything in here. It’s huge with empty space, the only things he has in here are pepper, rice, oil, and just the basics.

What am I supposed to do with that?

Ugh…I really wanted to make him breakfast before he leaves for work.. That’s the only way I know to make it up to him.

Just then I caught sight of flour and some eggs. Okay… A pancake would do and a warm black coffee.

I measured out the flour, picked several eggs, and dashed out of the store. According to my calculations, I had less fun forty minutes before Declan leaves for work which means I have about twenty minutes to get this done, ten minutes to get him down, and ten minutes for him to eat before leaving.

So I got to work, I made a real nice fluffy pancake, there were no bacon or sausage but he had some chicken breast… jeeez when was the last time Rose went shopping? I grabbed the chicken breast, spiced it, then fried it with some garlic and light oil.

Heading to the coffee machine, I got it started, pulled out his favorite mug because ever since I moved in, that man had only used one mug even though he has like a hundred of them.

I brewed his coffee, got it all set up, and took them to the kitchen.

Okay… Now it was time to get him down to eat…. How do I do that??

What do I tell him? I have never been to his room before, I have never been to the side of his room not to mention knocking or asking him to come down for breakfast.

Oh shoot, what if he doesn't he breakfast? What if he is mad at me and doesn't want to eat what I cook?

Ugh… shut up, Maria, stop overthinking and just go upstairs, smile at him, and let him know you made breakfast and would like him to come down and wait before he leaves for work.

Yea.. That sounds really nice and perfect… Wait.. I should practice.

‘Uhm, good morning,’ NO! Too sweet

‘Hi?’ HI??? HI???

Ugh.

‘I made breakfast.’ ugh this sucks.

Why do I even feel weird asking him to come eat? What is wrong with me!!!!

“Good morning, Maria.”

“Good morning, Declan,” I answered with my back turned and that was when it shook me, the man I had been contemplating going up and meeting, the man I woke up early to cook for was standing behind me.

I should turn.

Should I turn?

I slowly turned to see him, his head tilted to the side, probably checking to see if I was okay. And there he was, standing elegantly, bold in his white shirt, black suit on it, his black tie, slim yet complements him, his watch, clinging to his wrist and his veiny hands slid into his pocket. His throat bobbed as his eyes settled on mine, his Adam's apple, flexed before my eyes.

God, isn't this man like fifty? How on earth is he this hot and mesmerizing and that cologne.. Oh my goddess… It’s everything, he smells so good I wanted to sniff him. I knew I had grown weak, just standing there looking at him.

“Ria, I have an emergency at work… I have to go.” His soft yet deep voice yanked me out of my trance. My eyes flickered, returning to reality.

Jeez, how long did I stare for?

Wait, an emergency at work? Does that mean he can’t eat?

“Oh.. Uhm.. Ok.” I stuttered, forcing a smile and waving like a robot because jeez I wanted him to eat the food I made.

He halted, his eyes roamed around the table where the food was placed, he looked up at me and smiled, “I have to go.” he repeated.

“Yeah, i’ll see you… When you get home.”

He nodded and left, leaving the food I had made on the table.

My efforts, down the drain.