Tattered Beauty (Watty Awards 2011)

Chapter 27

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Chapter 27

For the next week, I woke up with my head on Daniel’s chest and clothes strewn around the cabin. Some mornings I would wake up and wonder how on earth my bra got on top of the refrigerator, or how Dylan’s pants ended up in the shower, and laugh to myself about how crazy things apparently became. Some mornings I didn’t remember much; it was all dependent on how much wine I drank the evening before. There were more nights when I was completely sober—I was happy to feel his love to the fullest of my abilities.

            After I woke up every morning, I tiptoed out of bed to make him breakfast. It almost always involved eggs. Stephanie had the party food down, but fell short when it came to breakfast. It was our last day today together; maybe some bacon was in order? Scratch that. When wasn’t bacon in order?

            Slipping on my silk, Japanese styled robe I shuffled out into the kitchen. I slapped some raw bacon in a skillet and watched it sizzle and hiss. I cracked a few eggs into a bowl and whisked it up. The first day I cooked for Daniel, I learned that he ate a lot. Honestly, the boy should be around five hundred pounds judging on the amount of food he consumed in a day. No wonder he had a personal chef at home; his mother couldn’t afford to spend the entire day cooking for him alone!

            I was in the process of plating his food when I heard heavy footsteps coming towards me. He yawned loudly, “Good morning.”

            “Good morning, sunshine,” I smiled. “You should leave your shirt off like that all day.”

            “What? I’d get so cold!” After seeing my sad face, he changed his mind, “Well, I’ll keep it off for a little while. How is that?” I shrugged and buried my face into his warm chest. “See, we’re compromising like a married couple already.”

            I handed him his plate, “I cooked your food.”

            “Get in bed,” Daniel demanded suddenly.

            “What?”

            “Get your butt in bed!” He said forcefully again, nudging me into the room.

            I cautiously rolled into bed and waited. “You better have an explanation for this,” I called out to him. I didn’t receive a reply…not like I expected one.

            I must have sat there for fifteen minutes, shivering under the covers. Even with a fire heating the cabin, it was still chilly. Maybe a camping trip was better when saved for the summertime. But I enjoyed the privacy. All the photographers were too lazy to take the hike out here in the snow to sneak a peek of us. It was nice, not being surrounded by fame hungry privacy invaders. As I was pondering ways to avoid them when we arrived back into the city in the evening, Daniel strode in with a make-shift tray made out of a cookie sheet. On the little tray, there was the breakfast I made, along with a glass of orange juice and a note. “Enjoy your breakfast, love. There’s more where that came from,”
I read aloud. “You’re so sweet!”

            “Figured I would give my woman some breakfast in bed,” He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. He lay down on the bed at my feet and watched me eat. “We have to go out to meet the jet at noon.”

            “I don’t want to leave; I like having all this private time with you,” I pouted once I finished my meal. “I want to stay with you forever.”