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“Doyou even know how to use that?”
I lift my head at Nadia’s voice. I’ve been kind of acting like her inexperienced apprentice in the kitchen, and she’s been letting me.
Despite her stern appearance and her merciless needles, Nadia is a kind woman with a natural talent as a caregiver, which makes her the best type of nurse.
I put the knife down and smile awkwardly. I do know how to use it, but only in combat, not in the kitchen.
Nadia, who’s dressed in a lively green apron, shakes her head and takes over the task.
We’ve been staying with the old couple for six days now. The storm ended last night, and today, Nicholas and Kirill went to the local market to stock up.
I wanted to go out, too, but my personal nurse told me that would only happen over her dead body.
The pain in my shoulder has lessened to a dramatic degree, and I can even move it freely now, but if I do it too fast, there’s a dull ache.
Nadia steals a glance at me. “You don’t usually cook, do you?”
I get another knife and peel the potato to mimic what she’s doing. “Not really.”
“How do you keep that husband of yours fed, then?”
My chest jolts, as is the case every time I’m reminded of the roles Kirill and I are playing. I’ve come to the realization that it’s impossible to get used to this fake marriage. Sometimes, I just want to blurt out that we’re not actually a couple.
But then again, I don’t want to hurt their feelings after everything they’ve done for me. As Kirill mentioned, they’re traditionalists with set values and might have trouble accepting us if we’re not ‘married.’
“We just get by,” I answer with a smile.
“That won’t do.” She chops the carrots in perfect squares and stares at me. “You need to eat healthy food, not just anything to stop the hunger.”
“But I don’t know how to cook.”
“Learn to, then. It’s not that hard.”
Easier said than done.
The kitchen has never appealed to me, and it’s not particularly because I was spoiled by my parents or due to the fact that I was a wild tomboy.
Though I do want to learn so I can stop surviving on army food alone.
“Would you…teach me?” I ask in a small voice.
Nadia all but beams. “Why, of course! What do you think I’ve been trying to do all this time?”
I smile back, and she sighs, a nostalgic look covering her eyes. “A long time ago, I also didn’t know how to cook well, but Nicholas was so patient. He even taught me how. See, he’s the oldest in his household, and since he lost his parents when he was young, he had to make sure his younger siblings were fed and taken care of. In his teenage years, he worked a lot of jobs while studying.”
“Wow, that must’ve been hard.”
“It was.” She doesn’t stop chopping, but her gaze becomes brighter and reminiscent. “I watched him all the time. Ever since I was a little girl. He’s ten years older than me, but I knew when I was five that we’d end up together. I bugged him, of course, and he initially had no interest in me, but after I went to college and came back, we became inseparable.”
“That’s beautiful.” It’s probably been decades since they got together, but that shine in her eyes is still blazing strong.
Something tugs at my heart at the thought of what must’ve been an epic love story. I think their type of connection happens once in a lifetime. We only have one chance to seize it before it’s gone forever.
“How did you meet your husband?”
My pulse hikes again, and I shift on my feet as I carefully peel the skin of the potato. “He…saved me.”
