Chapter 4 Two Seconds

It was her third day in the house. The late afternoon sun cut through the windows, catching steam from the cast-iron pot. Aurora stood at the stove. She was working on a braised dish. She knew the technique in theory. She was finding the rhythm in practice.

Lily sat silently behind her. The five-year-old had her notebook open. She was completely silent, moving a pencil across the paper.

Aurora was intensely aware of the child. She was also aware of the man in the doorway. Julian had been watching her for thirty seconds.

She pretended not to notice. She kept her focus firmly on the reducing liquid. She stirred the meat slowly, forcing her shoulders to relax.

He stepped into the kitchen. The room immediately felt smaller. He simply walked to the island and observed her.

"You have the heat right," Julian said.

It was the first time he had spoken since breakfast. In the rest of the house, his words were measured. In the kitchen, his voice took on a different resonance. It was direct. It was the voice of a man who owned his environment.

"But your angle is wrong," he added.

Aurora looked at her right hand. She was gripping the heavy wooden handle tightly.

"I have it," Aurora said.

"Your wrist will know in about four minutes if you keep holding it that way," he replied. He was simply correct.

Aurora shifted her grip. She tried to angle her elbow differently. It felt awkward. She was overthinking the movement now because he was watching.

"Like this," Julian said.

He stepped up directly behind her. He reached around her right side. One hand closed over her wrist. His other hand covered her fingers on the handle.

It took exactly two seconds. For two seconds, his chest hovered millimeters from her back. For two seconds, his hands were entirely wrapped around hers. His palms were incredibly warm. They were rough, precise and completely unyielding.

Aurora went completely still. Her body stopped moving before her brain made any decision. The air in her lungs vanished. The scent of braising meat was overpowered by the clean scent of cedar radiating from his shirt.

Two seconds. Then he stepped back. The sudden absence of his heat was jarring.

"There," Julian said.

"Thank you," Aurora replied.

Her voice was completely level. She had absolutely no idea how she managed to produce a normal human sound.

Julian stayed in the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and talked about the braise. He discussed the acid balance. He suggested a different technique for reducing the stock. He spoke with the unguarded openness he only ever displayed when talking about food.

Aurora responded in the exact same professional register. She nodded. She stirred the pot with her newly corrected grip.

They operated as if two seconds ago had never happened. Nobody acknowledged the sudden tension that had just spiked the room temperature. The silence beneath their conversation was deafening.

Julian picked up a clean tasting spoon. He held it out to her. Aurora scooped a small amount of liquid and offered it.

He tasted it. He considered the flavor profile for a long moment.

"You need to adjust the salt in the next stage," Julian said. "Otherwise, it is correct."

He set the spoon down. He looked at the pot, then up at her.

"You know what you are doing," he said. It was not a compliment. It was a factual observation.

"I went to culinary school for a year before the magazine hired me," Aurora said.

"I know," Julian replied.

Aurora stopped stirring.

"How did you know that?" she asked.

Julian looked back at the simmering dish. He handled the next words with the specific, agonizing care he applied to everything involving the past.

"Miya mentioned it," he said. "She was proud of you."

The kitchen went very quiet. The only sound was the bubbling liquid. Aurora stared blindly at the stove. Julian was the only person alive who could tell her that her mother had been proud of her. She did not trust her face right now.

Julian reached for his jacket resting on the chair.

"I will be at the restaurant until nine," he said. "I will text if I am later."

He walked to the back door. He stopped at the threshold. It was his usual position for things he decided to say on the way out.

"You are good in a kitchen," he said. Then he left.

The back door clicked shut. Aurora stirred the braise for several minutes in the empty room. She was not going to think about two seconds. She was not going to think about the fact that Miya was proud of her. She thought about two seconds and the precise weight of his very warm hands.

Behind her, a wooden chair scraped loudly against the floorboards.

Lily stood up. The five-year-old walked to the counter and slid her notebook across the wood. Aurora looked down.

It was a drawing of the kitchen. Two figures stood at the stove. The taller figure was standing right behind the smaller one. It was the exact position Julian had been in.

Underneath, it read: Daddy showing Rora.

Aurora looked at Lily. Lily looked back with dark eyes. Then she took her notebook and walked away.

She drew it while it was happening. She was at the table the whole time.