The Daddy Dom

Part Three; First Meal

She wished she could say something - anything at all - but it felt as though her mouth had been glued shut by the fear of disappointing him. The stress caused by allowing this man – this stranger – to take charge of the structure of her life began to snake its way through her body once again. Naturally, she had been nursing doubts in regard to this decision from the beginning.

The kitchen was large and bright. Big windows opened up two of the walls and allowed a generous amount of daylight to emphasize the apparent sterility of the kitchen counters, which were made of painted steel. Colourful fruits and vegetables adorned the surfaces and bright spices decorated the insides of the glazed cupboards, as if to distract from the cold hardness of the rest of the kitchen. To Charlotte's left stood a big white wooden table under the window, which had been set for two. Large tulips peeked out of a white vase in the center, offering some warmth. Charlotte liked tulips; she knew he knew this.

"Please, have a seat" he said, pulling out a large, cushioned white chair for her.

"Thank you" she said, sitting down. He poured first her and then himself a glass of water from a jug. The water glistened in the light of the setting sun. Charlotte looked out of the window where she could see the backyard. The large bushes she had seen in the front yard also encircled the lush green lawn here; looking over them Charlotte could not see anything but the sky. No houses, no tress, nothing but what was inside her 'permitted' area.

Stop questioning, this is what you chose.

A marble bird bath stood beneath a cherry tree, and a seating arrangement was nestled in between clusters of flowers beside a small pond covered in lilies.

It looked so peaceful, so very peaceful. She sighed.

From the stove he watched her as he filled two plates with salad. He had noticed the sigh.

"Rocket salad with walnuts, tomatoes, and balsamic vinegar" he announced, serving the plate to Charlotte. She eyed it with pleasure; it had been a while since she had last eaten, her trip had begun two days earlier - he had insisted she refrain from using transport which would require her to reveal details about her identity whenever possible.

"You may begin" he instructed, when he had sat down. Charlotte looked up with some surprise at this, but he did not catch her gaze, his eyes were focused on his food as he pushed his fork into the greenery.

Their somewhat one-sided dinner conversation revolved mainly around his passion for cooking, before moving on to changes he wished to make to the garden. Not once did he inquire about her departure from home or her journey.

It was clear: the outside world and her past were not to be mentioned.