Lost in madness

Chapter 26

The aroma of garlic and herbs filled the house as I placed the last dish on the table. I stepped back, admiring my handiwork—a colorful array of roasted vegetables, perfectly seared salmon, and a bottle of crisp white wine chilling in an ice bucket. The soft glow of candles flickered across the room, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

I heard the jingle of keys in the lock, and my heart skipped a beat. Andrew was home.

The door swung open, and there he stood, his broad shoulders filling the doorframe. His eyes met mine, a smile spreading across his face. In three long strides, he was behind me, strong arms encircling my waist.

"Hello, beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. His lips found the sensitive spot just below my ear, and I shivered.

"Welcome home," I whispered, turning in his arms to face him. Our lips met in a kiss that left me breathless.

He pulled back, his eyes twinkling. "Something smells amazing. I could get used to this."

I couldn't help but grin. "Go freshen up. Dinner's ready when you are."

He gave me one more quick peck before heading upstairs. I watched him go, my heart swelling with a mixture of love and guilt. It had been only a week since I'd moved in, and sometimes it still felt surreal. The enormity of what we were doing—what I was doing to Salky—threatened to overwhelm me at times.

I pushed those thoughts aside as I continued to play house.

Andrew descended the stairs soon after, looking refreshed in a soft blue sweater, that I bought for him. He made his way to the stereo system in the corner, fiddling with the controls for a moment before the smooth sounds of light blues filled the air.

My smile widened. "You remembered."

"How could I forget?" Andrew replied, pulling out my chair. "It was playing the first time I saw you."

I sat down, trying to ignore the pang in my chest, "That feels like a lifetime ago," I said softly. "A lot has changed since then,"

Andrew took his seat across from me, reaching for the wine and pouring us each a glass. "But some things remain the same." He raised his glass in a toast. "Like my love for you...To love."

I clinked my glass against his. "To love," I echoed, taking a sip of the crisp, cold wine.

We fell into easy conversation as we ate, discussing our days, sharing anecdotes, and laughing at inside jokes. The music provided a soothing backdrop, and for a while, I could almost forget the nature of our relationship.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you," Andrew said, his eyes lighting up. "Remember that project I've been working on?"

I nodded, spearing a piece of roasted zucchini. "The one with the sustainable housing designs?"

"That's the one. Well, the committee loved it. They want to move forward with a prototype."

"Of course, they would, it was a brilliant idea."

He beamed, looking boyishly proud. "It's a big step. If all goes well, it could make a difference in affordable housing options."

As he launched into more details about the project, my phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. I ignored it, focusing on Andrew's expressions as he spoke. But a few minutes later, it buzzed again. And again.

I saw Andrew's eyes flick toward the phone, a slight furrow appearing between his brows. He didn't say anything, but I could sense his discomfort.

"Sorry about that," I said lightly, trying to steer the conversation back. "Now, tell me more about the materials you're planning to use."

Andrew continued, but I could tell his enthusiasm had dimmed slightly. My phone buzzed once more, and I felt a twinge of annoyance. Who could be so insistent?

"Could you turn that off?"Andrew said, his tone carefully neutral.

"I'll just be a moment."

I excused myself and headed upstairs to our bedroom, fishing my phone out of my purse. My stomach dropped as I saw the string of messages from Sade. "Hey, Dabe. Where are you? Sally is at the hospital, isn't something serious but I think she's going through something. I don't know how to deal with this. Can you call me back? Or at least get her damn husband on the phone."

Taking a deep breath, I typed out a quick response: "Hey, Sade. Sorry, I was busy. Is everything okay?"

I hit send and turned off my phone, my hands shaking slightly. I needed a moment to compose myself before heading back downstairs.

When I returned to the kitchen, I found Andrew at the sink, sleeves rolled up as he washed the dishes. The sight of him—so domestic, so normal—made my heart ache.

I approached quietly, wrapping my arms around him from behind and resting my cheek against his back. I felt him tense for a moment before relaxing into my embrace.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"Yeah," I lied, hating myself for it. "Just some work stuff. Nothing important."

Andrew turned in my arms, his hands still wet from the dishes. He cupped my face gently, searching my eyes, without a word, he leaned down and kissed me deeply. I melted into him, clinging to the solidity of his presence, trying to lose myself in the familiar taste of his lips.

When we finally broke apart, Andrew rested his forehead against mine. "I love you," he whispered. "You do know that, right?"

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. I did know. And I loved him too, with an intensity that both thrilled and terrified me.
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