Betrayed

A reasonable offer

We spent Friday night eating McDonalds and watching Die Hard. I had fallen asleep before the movie was over and was barely aware that Gabriel covered me with a blanket before going into his bedroom.

I was awoken by the smell of coffee and breakfast wraps on Saturday morning. Gabriel and I ate in silence next to each other at the island counter. My fingers were itching to grab my phone and scroll through facebook to break the awkwardness of being with Gabriel.

"I have a huge favour to ask," Gabriel said, finally breaking the silence.

"What's that?" I asked, relieved to be speaking.

"Do you think you can make lasagna for supper?" he asked, a tinge of pink forming over his face working hard not to smile. He looked like a little boy asking for money from his parents, it was adorable. "I'll get the ingredients if you make me a list"

"Sure, but I'll go get the ingredients myself." I knew there was a Saturday morning farmers market in town and I insisted we visit. Gabriel, dressed in faded jeans, a flannel shirt and a baseball cap, followed me around carrying and paying for the things I picked up from the various vegetable vendors.

"Coffee?" I suggested as we passed the fourth coffee vendor. He nodded. "Hi, can I get a large coffee with 2 sugars and 1 cream please, and a large..."

"Just black" he said gruffly. I winced at him.

"Really? Just black?" I scrunched up my nose in disgust. The corner of his mouth rose up in a half smile. I carried our two coffees to his truck where he dumped all of our morning purchases in the cab before grabbing his cup and taking a long swig.

"What else do you need?" he asked. I shrugged.

"That's it, we got everything. Oh, wait, do you have pans and knives and cutting boards at home?" I asked, seriously. He rolled his eyes at me.

"Of course"

"Well I don't know, you said you never cook. I didn't check your cupboards to see if you had everything"

"I have everything" he confirmed "Even a french press for coffee and an egg separator"

"Ooh!" I said, pretending to be impressed.

I spent the afternoon getting the lasagna ready while he watched and offered me drinks. He mostly listened to me talk and shared very little about himself. It was like pulling teeth trying to get any information out of him.

"So, were you married to Chrissy's mom?" I asked tentatively after he'd had a few beers. He gave me a weary look.

"I still am," he looked sad about this. I stopped what I was doing to look at him, waiting for the story, but none came as he avoided my gaze.

"Is that why this house is fully stocked?" I asked nervously.

"Yes that was all her stuff but when we split she left it all here"

"Is it good or bad that she left?" I attempted. He shrugged but no emotion showed on his face.

"I was a shit husband," he said quietly. I felt awkward at having pushed for information because I didn't know how to follow through with the conversation. I really didn't know him well enough to comment or ask more questions so I just returned to the sauce that was simmering on the stove top and gave it a stir, leaving the conversation up in the air.

He got up from the stool and went to the living room. He switched the TV on and cracked open another beer. He grabbed his guitar and strummed it slowly while watching an action movie on TV. I grabbed a book from my bag and read at the island counter while waiting for the lasagna to cook.