My True First [18+]

Chapter 21

Sky sat on a chair, watching me take some vegetables for a stir-fry. She assured me she wasn't feeling queasy. It was sheer luck. Had Sky drunk anything of poor quality, we wouldn't be spending the evening this way, chatting while making dinner.

Chatting was one way to name it. The revelations of the beautiful girl who was fidgeting with the hem of her too-thin cotton top while she followed my every movement with her blue eyes left me perplexed.

It was clear that she used to date an asshole who didn't give a damn about her or her needs. Tons of seemingly insignificant things and details started to assemble themselves into a bigger picture in my head.

Sky was insecure. The way she blamed herself for the guy's job poorly done was proof of it.  She might have been used to putting up with shit. How else would I explain the fact that she stayed with the worst of guys for almost a year? I didn't want to be judgemental. I simply didn't get it.

"What are you going to make?" Sky asked, getting up from her chair and approaching me.

"A stir-fry, if that's okay with you."

"Sure. Give me a knife; I want to help."

"I told you I would do it."

Sky rolled her eyes. "Don't be stubborn."

Chuckling, I grabbed a knife from one of the drawers and handed it to her. "Look who's talking."

Sky nudged my bicep with her shoulder and stood next to me, taking a cutting board and starting to chop some vegetables.

We worked side by side in silence. I found it oddly enjoyable. It was the first time we'd done something like that together. I was busy at work, and Sky had enough on her plate with her university classes. Our schedules were different.

"Now let me do the rest," I said, taking the knife from Sky's hand. "I wanted to cook for you, not the other way around."

Sky smiled. "Okay. Surprise me."

I laughed, shaking my head as I grabbed a wok and poured some olive oil into it. "I'm not a pro. I had to learn to cook because—"

The unwelcome memories made me squeeze my eyes shut for a moment as I tried to regain composure.

"Because of what?" Sky asked, her voice quiet.

"When my mom got sick, I had to feed the three of us. My dad spent every moment he could with her, but I had to carry on with my studies and take care of Tim. She didn't live long after they diagnosed her. I think my dad blamed himself for not realizing something was wrong sooner."

"He couldn't have known."

"True." I tossed the vegetables into the wok and grabbed a wooden spoon to stir them. "My mom had always been thin because of ballet dancing. Besides, when Tim was little, my parents had financial troubles, and my mom was stressed out."