AllFreeNovel
Share Us
No matter what Marnix’s true intentions are, I already know we’re going to battle it out tonight. It’s what we do. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to sit in a room with him without wanting to throat punch him at least once.
I slowly drag myself toward the kitchen, but the sight once I get there has my jaw dropping. Marnix is in the kitchen, actually fucking cooking. I look around for Mariana, but she’s nowhere to be seen. He’s moving around expertly, like he’s been doing this his whole life.
He doesn’t even see me standing here, gaping at him. Instead he’s tasting the food, chopping up fresh herbs, and looking like one handsome ass motherfucker in an apron. Fuck, is he doing this to mess with my head? To remind me he could actually be the perfect husband for someone who’s not me?
Deciding I’ve been staring at him long enough, I break the silence. “Are my eyes deceiving me or is His Royal Highness actually cooking a meal himself?”
“Good to see your sarcasm hasn’t vanished in this past week.” He huffs, keeping his eyes trained on the fresh pasta he’s stuffing. It looks like he’s making homemade manicotti.
“Did you expect anything less?” I taunt.
“One could only hope.”
“Don’t act like you hate it.” I know he does, but I can’t help but push him. “So who taught you how to cook?” I’m curious where such an asshole learned to make a meal like this.
“My mother.” Of course she did. She was born and raised in the West Side, probably having to cook whatever she could find to survive.
“Your father allowed that?” From what I’ve gathered, that man found it insulting to do anything for himself. He seemed like the type to need people waiting on him hand and foot.
“He thought it was beneath me, but my mom didn’t care. She wanted me to be able to take care of myself.” The way he speaks of his mother is a part of Marnix I rarely see. He genuinely cares about her, and it’s very apparent how much she means to him.
Instead of antagonizing him more, I sit on a stool, watching him work for the next half hour. There’s tension between us, making the air thick with an awkward feeling, but neither of us feels like speaking right now. I wait for him to finish, before he pulls out two plates and dishes up the food.
I’m not sure what he’s planning on unleashing tonight, but these strange vibes between us almost make me more uncomfortable than when he’s being a complete asshole.
