The Actress' Husband

Episode 20: Blast From The Past

The 20th chapter already? Wow. I always cherish this goal in my books because it shows that I've written so much already but at the same time so much is yet to come. As usual, lengthy chapter (lol), and you're in for a rollercoaster of emotions.

Episode 20: Blast From The Past

After making several sleep-induced turns, Emily made it to the kitchen, only to freeze in her steps when she saw Nicholas standing there, elbows braced on the counter and his hands wrapped around a mug. The coffee-pot sat on his left and various documents were laid out in front of him. It was a cold morning so she wasn't surprised to see him in a black sweater with the hood pulled up over his head.

He glanced up immediately, setting his cup down when he saw the apprehensive woman. As he straightened, Emily noticed that the zipper of his sweater was undone, grey sweatpants riding low on his hips. And the most lethal part - he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath it. The sculpted surface of his tanned chest and the hints of his developed muscles stretched taut across his abdomen, visible under the radiant lighting in the kitchen.

In a different situation, this would've been one hell of a good morning.

But after the depressing state he was in last night, Emily couldn't rejoice at the sight of him one hundred percent. Not even fifty.

It had taken every ounce of her will power to tear herself away from him early this morning and go back to her own room. Emily didn't want to leave him alone after looking so doleful, but she wasn't sure if he would be receptive to the idea of her sleeping beside him just yet. It almost threaded along the lines of her taking advantage of him as he was being partially unexpressive. Uncertain of what he would normally like versus what he wouldn't under alcoholic influence.

"Good morning." The brunette greeted, willing herself not to blush under the heat of his gaze.

On most days, he'd stare her down until she did, but not today. He wasn't it in the mood.

He stared at her impassively, then pushed aside the files and papers.

"Have you had any hangover soup? Or some pills?"

Emily walked around the kitchen counter with the intention to make the dish once she saw sign of only coffee.

Not that she was complaining.

Emily loved coffee.

But this was about Nicholas and what was best for his body.

Speaking of which, the man whom her concern laid on was silent as she put the pot on the stove, flicking the fire on beneath.

"Did you..." Emily swallowed cautiously, her back still facing him.

"Did you have a rough day yesterday?"

Dead silent.

"Still not going to talk to me, huh?" She couldn't help but ask dryly.

It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to her. Nicholas just didn't know quite what to say after last night.

He didn't remember much, but he was sure he had been a handful.

Cursed with being an emotional drunk, he was sure she got a first class seat to that disaster. Plus the topic of discussion was probably the least appealing thing to him on this planet.

When she turned back around, he had another cup in his hands, picking up the coffee-pot and filling it to the brim.

"That's too bad. I had plenty of questions I needed answers to, but I guess – oh," she stopped in surprise, her brown eyes widening when he pushed the cup into her hands. The heat of it radiated and travelled to her heart as she tried to suppress the grin that wanted to spread across her face. Nicholas' expression was enigmatic when she looked up, but she yielded and smiled brightly at him nonetheless. "Thank you."