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On the new hardwood table that stood in the middle of the most beautiful kitchen I have ever laid eyes on was a card leaning against a vase with one single black rose in it. My fingers shook as I took the card and pressed it closer to my nose, inhaling the scent deeply. It smelled like him.
Your old kitchen was a mess, and it was my fault. I hope you like it.
P.S. The old furniture and appliances are in the garage. I only took the freedom to discard the linoleum.
“The fuck?” I asked no one in particular.
I could understand flowers and even KFC, but who buys you a brand-new kitchen? And who enters your house in broad daylight, exchanges your furniture, fixes everything, and leaves you one black rose and a card?
The room started to spin. I pulled out one of the new, beautiful chairs to sit on and slumped down, my head lying on my folded arms.
“Stuff like this doesn’t happen, right? I mean, not in fucking real life.”
Spike jumped on the table, pushing his head against mine, not happy that my head was lying on the pillow instead of me being up and giving him food.
“I don’t know if I have food.”
I stood up, opened the cupboard, and there was cat food. All types of cat food. The next one was filled with dry goods like rice and Mac and cheese. The fancy stuff, not the store brand. And cereals that I liked.
“Oh my god! Nutella. He even got me Nutella?”
The phone started to vibrate in my pocket and, for one second, I believed it was Soren before I saw the hospital number.
“Hi, it’s Karl,” said the voice that greeted me on the other side.
“Hi. What’s up?”
“I have the results of the blood sample. I don’t know what your friend is playing, but that blood isn’t human. To be honest, I don’t even know if it’s the blood of any living creature. It must be a joke because I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Oh, she’s probably playing a joke. Thank you, Karl.”
I put the phone on the kitchen counter and opened a bag of cat food.
Karl was still talking, but I couldn’t focus on his words. I stood there watching Spike eat.
Who has the type of money to make something like this happen?
Spike ate his luxury cat food as I opened other cupboards, finding them stocked with food and items needed in a kitchen. Soren saw I lived on things that were easy to make, so he stocked my kitchen. Even a brand-new espresso machine stood there.
“I can’t accept this,” I told Spike, who threw me the kind of ‘are you stupid bitch?’ look that cats often offer even if they don’t have a reason.
“Or can I? It’s not as if I know the guy’s number or have any idea where I could find him. And to be honest, I can’t pay for this.”
Getting a new kitchen was low on my priority list. My divorce exhausted me mentally and financially. Nick turned everything so that I was left standing there with nothing. I trusted him. I put all my money into his hands and, when he earned a lot with my help, he got himself a new model. A woman who could give him babies, as he said in his own words.
The new stainless-steel fridge was so silent that I had to rip the door open and check to see if it worked. I was used to the old one that hummed and made hiccup noises each time it restarted.
“I’ll be damned.”
Even the fridge was full.
A sip of a cold Coke Zero, a guilty pleasure of mine, helped me focus on reality.
Soren broke in. Can I call the police for that? What should I tell them? “Yeah, the guy who threatened me last night with a gun, and whom I helped by taking out silver bullets from his chest and abs, and I mean he had incredible abs, well, that guy, not only he sent me flowers and KFC, also bought me a new kitchen and installed it.”
Who would believe that?
The silver bullets.
