"Hey, hey, hey. It's your favourite person, and I'm bringing food. Get your bum downstairs while it's still hot," Zaire shouted up the stairs, then proceeded to slam every cupboard door in the kitchen.I needed to get his spare key off him and tell my mum to stop handing it back. I grabbed my dressing gown and wrapped it tight around myself. A quick peek in the mirror before I left told me I should think about making more of an effort in the day, but it was Zaire and he had seen me looking far worse.
I ran my fingers through my hair as I traipsed down the stairs. I leaned against the door frame and stared at the scene unfolding before my eyes. Zaire had every cupboard and drawer open, and his head was deep within the confines of our fridge. The place looked a mess.
"Make yourself at home. What are you doing?"
His head snapped up, and he grinned. "Making dinner? Well, putting it out. Where's the orange juice?"
I marched over to him and pointed to the half-empty carton on the bottom door shelf.
"Ah, thanks. Have I got a treat in store for you. Nana Jossy's home. I have all our favourites on the counter." He rubbed his hands together and beamed. I laughed along. How couldn't I? He was all rainbows and sunshine.
"What's got into you? Why are you so happy?"
"Do I need a reason to be happy?" He grabbed my waist and started dancing around the kitchen, twirling me around every so often then pulling me back to him. "And you Miss Leighton are coming out with me tonight. But first, we eat. Sit, sit. I'll get everything ready."
"Oh, I don't know. I don't feel well." My chest tightened at the thought of leaving the comfort of my house. Last time we met up outside these four walls, I hadn't dealt with it well. Saffron's birthday was too much, and my usual coping mechanisms hadn't helped. And then there was the issue of possibly bumping into Matt. Why had I slept with someone Zaire worked with? I never let one-night stands get to me, but I hadn't stopped thinking about the other night.
"Nonsense. You need a wash, and some good food in your belly, and you'll be fine. You've been cooped up for three weeks now. You're coming out with me and that's the end of it." Zaire peeled the lids off the leftover containers.
My stomach gurgled as the smell of plantain fritters and beef stew hit my nostrils. "I don't want to go back to the bar," I said in a weak voice and scraped my nail along the kitchen table.
He set some cutlery down and turned around to grab some glasses. "I'm finally taking a well-deserved day off so we're not going to the bar." He placed a heaped spoon of boiled rice onto my plate and spooned a smaller amount of beef stew over it.
Ripping a fritter in half, I sighed and took in the amount of food in front of me. Zaire sat down, his elbows on the table and his hands together. He mumbled a small prayer to himself and shoved a large forkful into his mouth. I avoided his piercing gaze by looking at everything but at him. Worry gnawed at me as I over-thought reasons I shouldn't leave the house.
"My parents aren't here and they don't like not knowing where I am."
Zaire swallowed and scratched his forehead. "Stop with the excuses. They're aware I'm here. Honestly, it was your dad's idea to get you out of the house." He waved his fork. "Now, eat something."
I pushed some stew around my plate and huffed. Zaire nudged my arm and nodded to the food. It looked amazing, and I was hungry, but the tightness in my throat made everything that passed my lips hard to swallow. I offered him a slight smile and bit into the fritter I held.
***
Zaire lay on my bed, his legs crossed at his ankles, as I held up some dresses and top options for our night out.
YOU ARE READING
Fragmented ✔️
RomanceFormer nurse Beatrice is struggling with her mental health after a tragic accident, but a torrid relationship with empathetic Australian bartender Matt could be her path to healing... or her ultimate destruction. --- They were only meant to be a one...