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21
BRYNN
Brynn’s back ached from being hunched over the pile of books in front of her. Her test appointment for her GED was right after the holiday. And Thanksgiving was in two days, which meant Aaron’s family was coming. She had so much to do, but studying for this test was her priority.
“Brynn?”
She jumped out of her seat, her pen clattering to the table, the book she’d been studying thumping closed.
Aaron held up his palms, eyes flaring like her reaction had scared him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She shook her head, breathing out a sigh of relief. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t even hear you come in. You’re home early.”
He paused. “No, I’m not.”
Brynn flicked her gaze to the clock, panic shooting through her veins. “Oh my God. I didn’t even realize how late it was. I haven’t started dinner.” Like she was supposed to do. Oh no. The man gives up so much for me and I can’t even hold up my end of the agreement.
She left the books and scrambled over to the fridge, searching for the ingredients she took out to defrost this morning. She grabbed the package of ground turkey and blinked at the sting in her eyes when her focus landed on the half-frozen meat. Damn.
“Brynn?” Aaron’s voice was close behind her as she collected the veggies she’d need.
I can defrost it in the microwave and then hurry up and get the asparagus going while that’s in there. She walked her loaded arms to the counter next to the stove, then emptied them and searched for the pan to boil the veggies, but it wasn’t there. She needed to hurry. “Where’s the pot?”
“It’s still in the dish drainer,” Aaron answered.
Of course. Because he did the dishes last night. She stood, grabbing it by the sink. He’s been cooking and cleaning and I’m not even pulling my own weight like we agreed.
She placed the pot in the sink and turned the water on.
“Brynn?” Aaron repeated her name, his big hands resting on her shoulders.
She tensed and reached to shut the tap off, but he beat her to it. “Stop.”
“Sorry.” She whipped her hand back.
He tugged her shoulder towards him. “Turn around and look at me.”
Reluctantly, she obeyed, her gaze focusing on his chest. “I’m sorry.”
His chest deflated on a sigh. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
She shook her head, denying his words. “I didn’t have dinner ready. I’m not being useful—”
“Look at me.” His voice was firm with a hard edge like she’d never witnessed before.
She met his dark eyes. A spark of something ignited in her core at his tone.
“Whoever convinced you that you only exist to be useful is an idiot. You don’t have to apologize for existing. You’re allowed to take up space.”
Her heart lurched as tears blurred her vision. “But we agreed that I’d have dinner ready if I got home first. You do so much for us, and I failed to—”
“No. This isn’t about dinner.”
She blinked up at him, confused. “It isn’t?”
He rested his hands on her shoulders. “Your value isn’t equated with these archetype roles that the patriarchal world has deemed the height of a woman’s success.”
Brynn digested what he said as he continued, “I don’t know much about your past, but I’m not him, Brynn. I don’t care if you ever cook again. I care about your happiness. I want you to live your best life. If we have to order out every night that I don’t cook, I can deal with that. If you want to make a meal, great. If not, I’m a grown man who can fend for myself.”
