FIXING THE BROKEN VOWS

chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

I woke up feeling nauseous. I had the urge to vomit, so I quickly got up and ran to the bathroom. I thought it was just a result of being tipsy. The gurgling sound in my stomach was indescribable.

As I stepped out, I could see the sun shining brightly. The sunlight penetrated through the glass window as the curtains were rolled to the side of the wall.

I rubbed my temples to ease the pain. I wanted to drink a steaming hot cup of coffee to relieve myself.

Damn! Tequila really affects me differently, especially since it's been months since I last drank. I guess I'm out of practice when it comes to alcohol.

The whole house was quiet. I didn't see Miguel when I woke up, and I assumed he had left early. I shouldn't even ask where he went. He always leaves early and comes home late at night, drunk and wild.

I entered the kitchen, only to be horrified! There was a stunning monster chopping onions at the sink. He had a bare chest covered with only an apron, and underneath, he wore boxer shorts. His hair was devilishly messy, and I could see his veins protruding as he firmly held the knife.

What a morning, Cleopatra! I was shocked to see that he was still here. More than that, I was terrified because it had been years since I saw him cook in our kitchen.

"Good morning," he said, turning his gaze towards me. The monster was smiling at me! For heaven's sake, I swear I could hear my heart roaring with tremendous delight.

I could feel my face turning red, even though I couldn't see myself.

"Good morning," I murmured.

I wasn't sure if he heard me, but he slowly let go of the knife, approached me, and raised his hand before kissing my forehead.

"You still smell like alcohol, baby," he said, nuzzling against me before returning to what he was doing, while I stood there, wide-eyed and in disbelief.

I'm not dreaming, am I? I'm not hallucinating... I'm not that drunk to see this happening right now. I can't be going crazy, right?

"Why are you still standing there?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I immediately felt weak in the knees and hastily pulled out a chair. "Sit down there, and I'll make you a cup of coffee for your headache."

Intrigued, I observed as he forcefully swung open the cupboard, his actions a flurry of urgency as he rummaged within. With swift precision, a cup of coffee materialized in his hands. Bewildered, I watched this surreal scene unfold. Either the tequila's grip hadn't loosened, or Miguel was undergoing a baffling transformation before my eyes.

I was taken aback when I saw him approaching me, carrying a steaming mug of coffee. He gently held the side of the mug, careful not to spill it. I could see the steam rising from it. I didn't know I could fall in love with this captivating monster that stood before me.

"Here you go, a cup of hot coffee and aspirin for your aching head caused by your drunkenness last night," he said.

He placed the mug down, pulled out a chair for himself, and stared at me intently. I lowered my head, feeling embarrassed. I was afraid to see his disapproving expression.

"Why aren't you saying a single word, Cleopatra?" His words were stern, and they made me raise my gaze back to him.

"Why are you doing this, Miguel? Why the sudden show of care? Am I just dreaming?" I ask, bewildered.

He sighed heavily and shook his head. "No, I'm real. We're real."

Even though it was true, I couldn't help but doubt it. He reached out and gently touched my cheeks with his blue eyes peering into mine. Here I go again, getting lost in his gaze. I'm always enchanted by his eyes.