Yes, Chef

Chapter 21: That's What I Thought

~Mads's POV~

I am leaning over my sink trying to catch my breath and keep the tears at bay. Maybe secretly hoping he'll follow me in here and force the issue despite my silly resistance. I know I hurt him when I diminished what we have, how we connected last night but he can't seriously think after one night that a relationship is worth losing his restaurant.

Maybe he's right that I'm catastrophizing but I could not live with the reality of having that happen because of me. He's not thinking straight. But he sure as hell knew how to crush me right back, comparing what we did to his previous...whatever the hell Hillary and he were.

But in his defense, he's doing what I asked. To see last night for what it was. But with his venomous words, now I'm doubting it myself. I have never felt that needed, desired, connected. And I know in my heart it was more than just sex.

I see his shadow outside of the door and I hold my breath. If he opens that door, I know I need to apologize. It feels like the moment extends way past what it should. Then his voice calls through the door. "I'll see you Sunday for our session. We only have a month left and then we never have to worry about seeing each other again."

I have to cover my mouth to hold in the sob that escapes. How did yesterday's bliss devolve into all this hurt? I don't know how long I stay stuck in my melancholy but by the time I emerge from the bathroom, Benedict is long gone and I'm determined to put us both out of our misery.

***

"What is so urgent that you left me three voicemails on a beautiful Saturday afternoon?" Whitmer finally returns my call.

"I want to see if we can get Benedict's mandate commuted." I state firmly.

"Uh...isn't it almost up?" He asks with an unsure chuckle.

"Yes but he's ready now. I can write a letter with supporting documentation. Plus his recent public personna demonstrates his progress. Continuing would just be a waste of time for us both." I argue.

"I do have to say that I was shocked to see him last night at the Taste of the Town." Whitmer acknowledges.

"Yes. So I need to get in touch with his lawyer or the judge. Can you make that happen?" I push ahead.

"You know I tried to talk him into doing a sit-down with Finnigan. I think that would really make the case for him being ready to move on." Whitmer hedges.

"He doesn't need to do that." I assert. "I can vouch for him."

"Right but Mads, you're missing the boat here." He says condescendingly. "It would look good for him to clear the air. To a judge and to the rest of the world."

I chew my lip and don't say anything so he continues. "Why are you calling me about this anyway? Surely Benedict knows how to contact his own lawyer."

"He doesn't know I'm making this request. But he's ready...and...I need to move on, Teddy. I'm starting school this week and I want to be able to focus on that. It's going to be a lot going back." I hate that I'm making excuses.

Whitmer makes a noise like he doesn't quite agree but he sighs and cuts a deal. "Get him to agree to the sit down with Finnigan and I'll see what I can do about finding the right person to talk to about commuting this mandate. Deal?"