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Besides, what if something happens and I lose it?
The thought scared me just as much as having a baby did. I couldn’t lose it. I didn’t want to. But I wasn’t far along, and a lot could change in a week. Look what had happened in just the last few hours.
And there he was, standing in my kitchen cooking dinner for me. Even the smile he gave me as I walked into the door was perfect. Why destroy all of that when everything was so fragile?
I’ll only wait a week or two. That’ll give me more time to prepare, and us more time to know if what we have is real.
And more importantly, if it was going to last.
“You’re home later than I thought,” he said. “Though, that’s for the better, because dinner might be a little delayed.”
I set my purse down. “What brought this on?”
“What?” he asked.
“You cooking dinner,” I said, gesturing to the stove. I leaned against the wall near the kitchen. “You’re a guest, remember?”
He was so beautiful. Way too good for me.
“I thought the best way to get on your good side would be to make you food.” He grinned.
I scowled at him, hating the inference. “Why? Because I’m fat?”
“What?” He frowned.
“The best way to get on my good side is food because I’m fat,” I repeated, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fat girls love food, right? We don’t like flowers or books or poems. Just lavish dinners and decadent chocolates.”
“Actually, the hope was to prove that I’m self-sufficient and reliable,” he said coolly.
I rolled my eyes. “If you want to impress me, do the dishes when you’re done and all of my laundry. Then keep doing it for a week, then two, then a month, and for a whole year. Cooking one dinner doesn’t prove anything to me.”
“It’s a start.”
It was. I couldn’t argue with that, but I did anyway. “Sure, Lucian. Whatever you say.”
“Why are you being mean?” he snapped.
“I’m being realistic,” I grumbled and marched off to go sit on my living room couch.
It was easy for him to say all of these thingsnow. Life was still easy. We were in the honeymoon period of dating. The beginning where everything felt magical and perfect. A place he was in, and I couldn’t be, not when I had to plan ahead just in case.
Chapter 9.
KATERINA.
