𝐋'𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐝𝐮 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞

Chapter 10: Dawn Can Wait

Making your way home you kept staring at your phone, just little glances at it for a buzz. William hadn't called you after you declined him, and it made you wonder how he took it.

Lights kept passing over and over, reflections coming into view with every mile and your mind lost somewhere that wasn't a road.

The sky, that call, what Chester was ranting about. Over and over it replayed in your head like you were scanning for mistakes or misspellings. Whatever, it was all done for now. It was 12 something, you pulled into the driveway quietly, keeping the lights dimmed against the window.

You take the key out of ignition and look into the still lit window. William is there, busy with something at your stove, with an apron on?

Is he cooking dinner for you, no that's preposterous. If he was, it was poisoned beyond belief for the last time you talked to him.

Nonetheless, you push open the front door, sliding off your shoes at the mat. The house smells heavenly, hints of steak and some sauce make you almost groan at it from an empty stomach. Hand on the doorway, you come into view looking at the man in your kitchen.

All your journals, memo pads, crumbled torn out sheets, and many stolen pens sit in a plastic bin you had laying around, completely organized.

The table is cleaned off too, and most of the dishes look done. William on the other hand is whisking brown, glistening sauce in a small pot, while 3 steaks are fully cooked and bleeding on a platter.

And next to that is a bowl of mashed potatoes garnished with green onion slices, steam still rising from it.

'I'm not in love with him, I am not in love with him, I don't want to marry him either!'

The words are gibberish in your mind with your mouth watering at a warm meal you eyeball, knowing you haven't touched a real meal in months.

"How was work, darling?"

His tone is bland, a little tired too, but smile is affirming. Immediately, you feel this is a plot to either kill or seduce you, most definitely both.

"William, what the fuck is all of this, don't you still hate me?!"

"Sure, but I've had my fair share of fights, and you were just pissed I left you in the bathroom."

You're silent to that.

"Not to mention, don't you think I'd be exhausted beyond repair to even get myself up...or even a human man?"

"No, I understand that it's just..."

"Then, what could possibly be haunting you to the extent of hatred for me?"

"What am I to you, really, who do you see?"

"Sit down, eat, drink, and I'll tell you."

You're reluctant to order, sitting down at the table. Over time more is set before you, a wine glass, a plate filled with the best food you'd seen in months, and a silverware set.

You don't touch the food, instead go for the already filled wine glass that's half full with a dry white wine, Sauvignon blanc.

The aroma of it hits your nose as you take a sip of it, you forget how pungent it is. It's of nicer quality, definitely not watered down cheaply. The oak in it can also be tasted from its years of aging in an oak barrel somewhere.

"Where did you get this?"

"Oh, it was a celebration bottle that I had stuffed in the old location, it was much more intact than I ever managed to be."