Lahat ng Kabanata ng Not bound by honey: Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

It happened over something stupid. It always does. We were parked near the marina, wind carrying salt and heat through the vans. I had just come back from a cooking class, still smelling faintly of citrus and olive oil. My mood was neutral. Light, even. Their van door slammed. Then Chris’ voice. “For once can you just do what you said you would?” Jason shot back immediately. “I said I would film the intro. I never said I’d organise the rest.” “You never say you’ll organise the rest. That was always Rachel.” Silence. My name hung in the air like an accusation. I stayed in my van. I heard another slam. Then footsteps drawing closer. Then Chris appeared outside my door. He didn’t even knock, he just opened it. “Are you seriously just sitting here?” I looked up slowly from my laptop. “Yes.” “You can hear this mess.” “Yes.” “And you’re not going to step in?” I removed my headphones carefully. “Step in where?” He stared at me like he couldn’t compute what

We were just entering Scotland. It seems we have a way of going to one weather extreme to the other. Sunny France, snowy Switzerland, sunny Greece moody and misty Scotland. Chris seems to have remembered how I had called him and Jason out, telling them they never did anything fun with me. So now, in the rolling hills of Scotland, he planned a whiskey tour, thinking it would be a way to finally make me really smile. Unfortunately the timing could not be more off. Because just before we left Greece I started feeling very pregnant. I went along anyway and from the moment we started, it was obvious that Chris saw something was off. Maybe he saw my steps were slower, that I went to the bathroom more often or that I simply was eating all the cheese but I did not drink a single drop, and Chris noticed, the knot in his chest tightening with every passing distillery. I felt so bad for seeming disrespectful but when would be the right time to tell them? And what mess would that bring a

My heart started pounding as I took in his words. Trying to convince myself to trust them. Chris moved closer “Rachel, please let me touch you again” I hesitated for a moment still wounded by how things have been between us. He moved in before I could nod or say yes I didn’t turn toward him. I felt him there. The heat of him. His desire. Once, I would have curled into his chest without thinking. Once, he would have reached for me and I would have answered before he even asked. But that was before the disappearing. Before the words in Sweden. Before the way he could make me feel chosen one moment and discarded the next. My body almost failing me “Chris,” I said quietly. He didn’t argue. That alone made my chest tighten. Instead, he moved slowly like sudden movements might scare me off and reached for my hand. Not my waist. Not my thighs. Just my hand. His fingers wrapped around mine gently, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in soft, steady strokes. “I know,” he said. Hi

We carried on with the project. Chris and I started spending every night together. Jason seemed to not care at all. But then I must also say, I wonder how much he noticed. I finally figured out who that girl is that he was with from Switzerland. Her name is Celeste. Although Jason is not breathing a word about her. Not how they met, whats their history or how she has been pitching up in every country we have gotten to. Needless to say, I don’t know if Chris moved into the van with me for me or because he could not deal with being that close to shower sex, as often as it was happening. We were now in Algarve Portugal. As we like to call it Sun & Skin. It has beautiful Golden cliffs, hidden caves that you need to reach by boat, quiet beaches with the mist dramatic ocean views Our mornings were slow, I always had drinks coming up. Hot or cold depending on where we were. But here ice teas felt fitting. Slower mornings, salt on skin, swims morning and evening. We were needing som

We were cupping each other’s faces when I leant in and gave him a feverish kiss. He responded in equal measure lifting me from the counter and moving us to the shower. As we climbed in I moved down and he slid out of me. Steam curled around us, thick and blinding, turning the small shower into its own private world. The water pounded against tile, against skin, against the tension that had been building between Jason and me all morning. He stepped in behind me without asking. His hand slid around my waist, firm. The heat of his body pressed into my back, contrasting the spray of water cascading over my shoulders. I felt small in his grip. “You will always be the one for me,” he murmured near my ear, his voice low and steady, almost swallowed by the sound of the water. His fingers traced slowly up my stomach, deliberate. He turned me to face him with one hand at my hip, guiding me like he already knew I would follow. His eyes were darker in the steam, focused, unreadable.