A Mad Man's Clause

8| The Uncertainty

I am not alone anymore; I am not alone any more...

The words reverberated in her thoughts over and over. They bothered her in an unusual way. Moments after he had uttered them, it dawned on her that she had no notion what the terms of this marriage was. Arrangements like these were often mutually beneficial however as far Mai was concerned, she was the only one reaping the so-called benefits. She had offered nothing, no, she had nothing to offer in return and he knew that. Inferring from his words, I am not alone anymore, was this sham long term? Other than a marriage certificate, there had been no other document prepared to stipulate the terms of their marriage. He had articulately pointed out that he was not at all interested in her romantically so what was his end goal here?

Pity could only go so far. She sighed out loud. Mai was just as confused as the day she first met him. Every time she thought she'd made some type of progress with him, something happened to throw her off. The obvious answers to her questions lied with him. She just had to ask.

Another sigh. Why that felt like a herculean task was lost on her. A thud rang somewhere outside her window, and she realised she had been immersed in her thoughts for quite some time. The plan had been to refreshen up and meet downstairs for lunch in an hour. She looked at the watch clasped around her wrist. She had twenty minutes left. There was nothing she wanted to do so she made her way downstairs. It was quiet save for a clacking sound echoing from the kitchen. She made her way there and found Henry hunched over the stove. It was a familiar sight and had her feeling slightly nostalgic. She huffed softly and moved next to him.

"What are you making?" she asked, staring down the contents of the pot on fire. It was some kind of sauce.

"What I make best, Italian pasta." Smiling, she bobbed her head in amusement and took a step back when she noticed how close they stood next to each other.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Kindly grab plates from the drawer over there." She ambled over to the direction he pointed at and grabbed two white ceramic plates. She rinsed them off with water and placed them on the counter next to the stove.

"Anything else?" His gaze darted to her face before he shook his head.

"I'm done." He poured the contents on to the two dishes and placed the empty saucepan into the sink.

"Come on." Both plates in hand, he began to make his way towards the dining table.

"Can we..." He stopped and turned her way, brows raised. "Can't we just eat in here?" He set the food down on the island and stood to the side, waiting for her to take a seat. He sat across from her and eyed her silently as she shut her eyes momentarily. She met his gaze squarely once she opened them. "Thank you for the food."

He waited until she had taken the first bite before he began eating. He read her movements. Her thin brows were furrowed into a light frown and she was fixated on her plate, shoving handful of pasta in her mouth non-stop.

"Something's bothering you." It wasn't a question.

She shifted nervously, halting the ascent of another forkful. "What!" she said

"Well..." he muttered, "You want to ask me something."

She paused; words were lost on her. This man was something else. She cleared her throat, masking her confusion and asked him the question that had been bugging her. "How long does this last?"

He dropped his fork. He looked at her face, his expression blank. "How long have you thought about this."

"Long enough to ask you." she replied, "We never had any discussion in that regard and inasmuch as I am grateful to you. Believe me, I am but I don't know long we can keep up with this ruse. I owe you too much already."