Page 6 of Forever (Broken 3)


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Nathan doesn’t respond; he just continues staring into the fridge. Sighing heavily, I take Emily up the stairs, closing the stairgate behind me to keep Dillan from following and quickly wash her down in the bathroom sink.

It’s not until I’m back downstairs, clean and clothed baby in my arms, that Nathan has finally gotten over his fun. He kisses me the second he can grab me and all is right in the world.

So we’re not perfect. We’re dealing with it the best we can.

“I love you too,” he responds. It’s late, but he responds.

“You don’t have to tell me. I already know.” I assure him and place Emily on the floor. She immediately seeks out her brother. Their love-hate bond is beautiful until one of them is screaming.

“I like telling you.”

“I like you telling me, but you show me enough every day.”

“You’re so not needy, and you wonder why I want to marry you?” His lips find my jaw. “Let’s go and permit the kids to use us a climbing frame as we watch endless amounts of colourful TV shows with dancing parrots and puppets.”

“Oooh, our lives are so exciting,” I snort and we move to the living room.

“Have you put any more thought into the wedding?” Nathan asks after tangling his body with mine on the couch. Emily climbs up his legs and demands to be played with. As always, he acquiesces. Her little giggle as he draws her to him and nibbles on her neck melts my heart.

“I umm…” I snap myself back to focused. “I’ve got a few venues for us to look at but…”

“What?”

“Well, we don’t really know anybody to invite,” I admit solemnly. “And I don’t want to hire a huge venue for a tiny wedding.”

“We could always elope.”

“Hmm…” It’s romantic but I love the idea of planning a wedding.

“Intimate weddings are nicer, aren’t they?”

I roll my eyes. “At this point it’ll be me, you, the kids and my mum.”

“And Tommy and Sasha.” He grins and I let out a grunt when Emily crawls over to me. Dillan, seeing his sister get close, immediately becomes jealous and demands that I lift him. “Don’t worry.” Nathan strokes the side of my cheek with his nose. “It’ll all work out. Just hurry up and let me give you my last name.”

“I will.”

“When?” His thumb tugs on the ring on my left hand.

“Let me focus on training, okay?”

He smiles, leans in and kisses the tip of my nose. “Okay, you’re right. Too much pressure.”

“Do you want me to make you something for dinner before I go to work? You can warm it up later.”

“Another reason I want to make you my wife.” I’m practically shoved off the couch. “I don’t know if you noticed but I got you all of the ingredients to make that chilli pasta that I love.”

I laugh, roll my eyes heavenward and move to the kitchen. I hope that I’ll never lose my passion and love for cooking, despite the stresses my new job may put on me.

“You’ll get faster,” I’m reassured as I botch slice a potato.

“If you say so,” I mumble.

I feel my arm snap backwards as I’m spun and my boss… head chef guy… is directly in my face. “What kind of talk is this? If you don’t have faith in yourself then why should I have faith in you?” He drops a knife beside the potato and his brown eyes narrow with annoyance. “Fucking cut the thing and cheer up about it or get the fuck out of my kitchen.”

I hate him. He swears too much. Now I understand why Nathan hates me swearing. It’s such an unattractive language add on. At least he has pretty eyes and his breath always smells minty. If he was yelling in my face with horrible breath, I’d have quit already.

“He has a point,” Patience says, shrugging one shoulder. “You’re slowing us down as it is.”

“Such a joy isn’t she?” A young guy who introduced himself as Sean smirks from the other side of the table. He’s peeling the potatoes that I’m chopping, though he’s actually the designated cleaner.

I don’t comment. I don’t want to slag off the people I work with on my second day, or at all for that matter. I simply smile and concentrate on the potatoes.

Potatoes.

Just potatoes.

Talk about starting at the beginning. I’m just so nervous; I don’t want to mess up.

I don’t want to let anyone down. I know I can do better than this.

I mean, I know how to peel and chop a bloody potato. If I was alone, I’d slap myself.

“We need onions diced,” Kerim yells when I finish my last potato. “Quickly.”

“Yes, Chef!” I call over the noise of the kitchen and pop a piece of chewing gum into my mouth. A little trick to stop your eyes from watering is to chew on gum as you chop onions. Although when I grab the bucket full of onions, I realise I might need more than chewing gum in my arsenal to stop my eyes from watering. I want to cry just from seeing the mountain. Fortunately, I’m an excellent dicer. I know I can do this quickly.

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