The Turning Point

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE - A SPECIAL BREAKFAST

Heloyse

At seven in the morning, Calvin drove me to the entrance of Will's house. The sky still displayed soft shades of blue and lilac, remnants of dawn that dissipated as the sun rose. The morning breeze carried the damp scent of earth and dew on the freshly cut grass.
"I'm glad you're here," said Calvin, breaking the comfortable silence that accompanied us on the walk.
I looked at him curiously, and he smiled, a sincere and welcoming smile.
"I never thanked you for that day," I confessed.
"You don't have to," he replied, shrugging. "And, like I said, I'm glad you came. Actually, we're all grateful."
I frowned, not understanding.
"Will's unbearable. More than usual. No one can stand his mood."
"But I have nothing to do with that..." I tried to argue, but Calvin laughed, shaking his head in denial.
"Come on, stop that. Who are you two fooling?" He gave me a knowing look. "And if you want to know, my wife and I are very happy that you've gotten close to him."
Before I could answer, he simply smiled again and went on his way, leaving me in front of the imposing door of the house.
Will greeted me at the entrance and, without saying much, guided me to the living room. The extinguished fireplace and the soft aroma of coffee mingled with the scent of freshly baked bread. The table was elegantly set, with embroidered white tablecloths, delicate dishes, and silver cutlery.
He looked at me with a half-smile.
"I hope I don't end my morning with my face soaked in juice," he joked, referring to our last breakfast together.
I laughed, a little embarrassed.
"I didn't want things to have turned out that way..."
He sighed.
"I shouldn't have brought it up. Sorry."
I shook my head.
"You don't have to apologize."
This time, he smiled.
"Let's have breakfast?"
Will and Eva began setting the table, bringing a jug of juice and a thermos, as well as a basket of assorted breads, a bottle of milk, a moist and soft chocolate cake, scrambled eggs with crispy bacon, toast with jam, and golden pancakes covered with honey.
The smell was simply irresistible.
"I hope you like it, Lisy. I prepared everything a little while ago. But if you want something else, I can make it..."
"You don't have to!" I hastened to reply. "Everything is wonderful. Thank you so much!"
Eva smiled and wiped her hands on her apron, an unconscious gesture of someone who was always busy in the kitchen.
"You don't have to thank me." Her gaze was gentle. "I'll be in the kitchen. If you need anything, just call."
"Thank you."
Before walking away, she gave Will a firm look.
"And this time, eat something, William. I'm not going to waste my time cooking if you don't touch the food."
He sighed, visibly impatient.
"I'm going to eat."
"I hope so, because you didn't even touch the food I left for you yesterday."
"But I'm going to eat now, aren't I?"
"If you don't eat, I won't even cook today. If you want to starve, just say so."
Will rolled his eyes.
"Eva... I just didn't eat yesterday. It's not like I've been starving for days. Besides, I'm not a child, woman!"
She crossed her arms.
"Fine, then. I won't worry anymore."
Then, he got up, walked over to her, and took her hand.
"I promise I'll eat, Mom," he said, in a low, affectionate tone. "Don't be mad at me, okay?"
I remained still.
Mom?
She smiled and, as if it were a natural reflex, ran her hand over his hair.
"Then go eat. I'll make chili for you for lunch."
Her face lit up with a smile before disappearing through the kitchen door.
When Will sat down again, I noticed he was slightly embarrassed.
"Mom?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity.
He shrugged.
"She's like one."
And for a moment, his mask of a strong and unshakable man fell, revealing a different, almost vulnerable Will. But it was just a second. He quickly regained his composure and looked away.
"Try the chocolate cake. You'll like it."
I put a piece in my mouth, and indeed, it was delicious.
"Is it good?" he asked, watching me closely.
I nodded, still chewing.
"Delicious!"
Will smiled and, after a few seconds, also helped himself.
It was strange how being there, in that house, having breakfast with him, made me feel... comfortable. Like we belonged to that moment. I never imagined something like this. Was this the feeling of sharing a meal with someone you love?
With Michael, it was different. He always left early for work, and I was already at the coffee shop, getting everything ready before opening. There was no time. There weren't these silences filled with presences, these glances exchanged between bites.
Suddenly, I found myself imagining what it would be like to raise a child on that farm. I looked at the door and, in my mind, I visualized a little blond-haired boy running into the room, laughing loudly, his little hands grabbing the toast and spreading crumbs on the table.
My God. My parents.
A wave of longing washed over me. Our house, our mornings filled with laughter and plentiful food. My mother made the best sweets. My father had coffee while reading the newspaper. Marcus...
Marcus was everything to me.
And now I had none of that.
"Heloyse?" Will's voice called me back.
"What is it?"
"Nothing."
He frowned.
"Are you going to tell me why you got so distracted?"
"It was nothing."
He watched me for another moment, but didn't insist.
"All right, then. Finish your breakfast. You've barely touched the food."
"Will, we need to talk. I don't..."
"Not now, Lisy. We'll talk later. I know what you want to talk about. I've thought about everything too. We'll talk about it later."
I sighed, anxious and a little nervous. But I agreed.
I ate a little more, until I felt satisfied.
"I've never been in a house like this. It's so beautiful."
He smiled.
"Want to see the rest?"
"I'd love to."
Will took my hand and guided me through the house.
The kitchen was splendid, a true invitation to coziness. The environment was rustic, but sophisticated at the same time. The furniture was robust, made of well-worked wood, with hand-carved details that highlighted the richness of the years and the quality of the material. Copper pans hung from hooks on the ceiling, reflecting the soft light that entered through the large windows with lace curtains. On the shelves, ceramic and glass jars rested, full of spices, grains, and dried herbs, which filled the air with a welcoming aroma.
In the center of the kitchen, an elderly lady cut vegetables with experienced and careful hands. She had gray hair tied in a bun and wore a simple cotton dress, covered by a plaid apron. Her eyes lit up when she looked at us, as if she recognized us from somewhere or, perhaps, as if she had a special affection for Will. Next to her, Eva chopped meat with precise movements, focused on her work.
In another part of the kitchen, rows of bottles contained flavored oils, preserved peppers, and herbs immersed in golden olive oil. The decor resembled a Mexican farm kitchen, with its vibrant colors and rustic details that, at the same time, overflowed with charm and functionality. The smell of garlic and fresh herbs mixed with the aroma of freshly baked bread, creating an atmosphere that warmed the heart.
Will guided me out of the kitchen, through a corridor lit by wrought iron chandeliers. Then, we arrived at a large barbecue area. There was a large rustic wooden table, surrounded by heavy chairs, as if they were always ready to receive visitors. The barbecue grill was imposing, built of clay bricks, with a tall chimney that disappeared into the roof.
On the other side of the patio, a soccer field stretched across the well-manicured lawn. Further on, a pool gleamed under the morning sunlight, surrounded by lounge chairs and white umbrellas. The turquoise blue water reflected the clear sky, and a light breeze made small ripples on the surface.
"Do you have parties here?" I asked, enchanted by the space.
Will smiled slightly, his gaze lost in memories.
"When I was a teenager, my grandfather used to throw parties. He was a lonely man in his daily life, but he had many friends, both from the city and from neighboring farms and even from more distant places. They came to visit, and he made sure to prepare a nice barbecue. For him, food was synonymous with union, and no one was treated as an employee or boss on those occasions. Everyone sat at the same table, drank and laughed together, like a big family."
I listened to him attentively as he continued.
"Thom always came, as did Cielo, who helped in the kitchen along with the other women. Martin and I used to swim in the river while Megan, who was much younger, ran after us, trying to find us before we got into trouble. A friend of my grandfather had two daughters who always came. Martin and I loved to tease them."
He smiled nostalgically before adding:
"Sometimes, Martin would disappear with one of them."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"And when he disappeared, what were you doing with the other one?"
Will shrugged.
"Nothing. She was just an acquaintance. Just that. Like her sister, she liked Martin too."
I made a theatrical expression of surprise and put my hand to my chest.
"They both liked him? My God, didn't anyone want you? That can't be! You must have been a teenager full of pimples, wearing weird clothes and with braces on your teeth, right?"
He gave me a sidelong glance, smiling amused.
"Martin was always very charismatic. He made friends with anyone and knew how to make people laugh. I, on the other hand, was never outgoing. I always preferred to keep to myself. After my grandfather died, I never had barbecues or called his friends again. They weren't my friends, just acquaintances. The only true friendship I kept was with Martin."
The seriousness returned to his face as he continued:
"Sometimes, some of them call asking for Calvin or Eva. They want to know if I'm okay, but I don't feel the need to see them. The only people I keep real ties with are the Ferrels. The rest are just figures from the past."
The silence that followed weighed in the air.
"Why do you push people away?" I asked, trying to understand his reluctance to maintain connections.
He ignored the question and just turned around, walking ahead.
"Let's go. I still want to show you the rest."
I followed his steps and we entered the house again. The interior was impressive. The wooden floor gleamed so much that it almost reflected our image. The walls were decorated with landscape paintings and old photographs, some in black and white, depicting people who probably belonged to the history of that house.
The rooms were spacious and elegantly decorated. The lace curtains matched the bed linens, giving a delicate and refined touch. The furniture was antique, but extremely well cared for, displaying a classic luxury. Each piece seemed to tell a story.
Will's room was the most impressive. The imposing four-poster bed occupied a large part of the space, surrounded by light curtains. The large windows were covered by heavy curtains of fine fabric, giving a sophisticated air. The fireplace in the corner made the environment cozy, and the large wine-colored rug gave a touch of warmth and refinement. The only thing that stood out from the classic decor was the modern television, installed on a wooden panel.
He turned to me, leaning against the large dark wood dresser. His eyes scanned my face before slowly sliding down my body. The air between us seemed to warm.
"Did you like it?" His voice was hoarse, low, as if he already knew the answer.
"It's amazing. I wasn't expecting something like this... so elegant." I smiled, walking slowly to the center of the room.
Will took a step forward, and I felt the energy between us change. He raised his hand, gently touching a strand of my hair, twirling it between his fingers before letting it go.
"I like it here. It's the only place where I can just... breathe."
I understood. That wasn't just a room; it was a refuge, a piece of the world where he could just be Will, without the responsibilities of the farm, without the expectations that everyone seemed to have of him.
Without thinking, I touched his arm, sliding my fingers lightly over the sleeve of the shirt he was wearing.
"Thank you for showing me all this," I murmured.
He stared at me for a moment and, without saying anything, raised his hand to touch my face. His thumb brushed my cheek delicately, and my breath hitched when he leaned in a little closer.
"You drive me crazy, sunshine..."
My heart raced when I heard those words whispered against my skin. Will slid his hand to my nape, gently pulling me closer. I felt the warmth of his body, his woody scent mixed with the light aroma of leather.
When his lips touched mine, it was with an unexpected sweetness. A slow, exploratory kiss, as if he wanted to memorize every detail of that moment. I responded, my hands sliding to his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt.
He deepened the kiss, and a sigh escaped my lips as his hands ran down my back, pulling me even closer. At that moment, it was just the two of us, enveloped by the warmth of the fireplace, the woody scent of the room, and the silent desire that hung in the air.
Will interrupted the kiss, resting his forehead on mine.
"I should stop..." he said, with a hesitant smile.
I took a deep breath, feeling the electricity between us.
"And why should you?"
He chuckled softly, running his fingers through my hair before pulling me in for another kiss.
And at that moment, I knew I didn't want him to stop, unfortunately, he did stop.
"What I want to do with you, Heloyse, can't be done now, in broad daylight, with other people moving around the house."
I looked at the floor, a warmth rising to my face, but I couldn't hide the smile on my face.
"Shall we?" he asked, smiling.
I agreed.
We went to the office, which also reflected his reserved personality. Everything was made of dark, polished wood, from the robust desk to the shelves full of books. A large window covered by curtains filtered the natural light, softening the environment. In the center, a large dark leather sofa, flanked by two armchairs, completed the space.
We went down the stairs and walked along a long corridor until Will opened a door, leading us to a charming inner courtyard.
The floor was covered with old stones, and in the center was a marble fountain, where a sculpted swan poured a constant stream of water. Climbing plants climbed the stone walls, creating a magical effect. The damp smell of the leaves mixed with the soft perfume of the flowers that grew in pots strategically scattered around the space.
Nearby, under a cover, there was a pile of perfectly stacked firewood, next to an axe leaning against the wall.
"I like food cooked on a wood stove. And with the storms we have, I prefer to light the fireplace on those occasions. Despite the electric fireplaces and heaters, I prefer the traditional way. I like the warmth of burning wood. It gives a cozy feel, don't you think?"
I smiled, observing the surroundings.
"Yes, I think so. Your room and this courtyard are the most beautiful places in the house. Everything here is charming, Will."
He nodded, looking around.
"The first time I came here, I thought it was the most beautiful place in the world. All this pasture, the river, the animals... It seemed like a dream. That's why I wanted to show you. Maybe you could feel the same way I did."
"You didn't always live here on the farm?"
"No," he replied, his tone more subdued.
Will took my hand and guided me back to the living room, indicating the sofa for me to sit down.
"Where did you live before?" I asked.
He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath, as if preparing for a difficult confession.
Will leaned back on the sofa, his eyes distant, as if reliving each memory before speaking.