Page 136 of Blue Gold

“If I stay in bed and rest, would that make you feel better?” I asked, using my thumb to clean away his tears. “I can stay in bed tomorrow, too. I can. Really. Just, don’t cry.”

He placed his hand on top of mine.

“Elliot—”

“Please, Daniel, you have to trust me. Other than my ankle, I’m healthy. You see my body every day… when you fuck me, you love it, right? You always tell me I’m so pretty, so just think about that while I promise to rest.” I nodded, meaning every word. “How about you carry me to the bed now? I won’t mind it, I swear. Just promise me you won’t call any doctor.” I caressed his face, my lips quivering. “I’m sorry I hit you. I didn’t mean to.” I moved my fingers over the slight bruise I’d left on his cheek. “Please, it was a mistake, I swear.”

Something crossed his eyes before he closed them and let out a deep sigh. Afraid he’d bring up all that “getting me help” nonsense again, I jerked closer.

“Daniel?”

“Let’s take you to bed.”

I relaxed at once, happy he finally agreed.

“Yes. Yes. Let’s!”

He didn’t say another word and instead carried me to our bed. This time, I didn’t complain and held on to him tighter.

“Where are you going?” I asked after he put me down on the mattress and moved away.

“To take a shower.”

“Oh.” I smiled at him.

I didn’t like how he avoided my stare again.

“Daniel?”

“What is it?” He half turned to face me.

“I love you.”

Not saying anything in response, all he did was smile. A small, tired smile that didn’t even reach his eyes.

43

ELLIOT

For the last week, Daniel had been acting differently.

He was angry, or sad, or maybe both. And while not knowing the exact reason, I did know I was the cause because lately, I’d given him plenty of reasons to hate me.

It started when I didn’t tell him about Claudia or about the man who followed me home. That led to someone taking pictures of us kissing, and I still had no idea what happened with those photos. Daniel said he’d handle it, but it had been days, and he hadn’t brought it up again. I also yelled at him and slapped him, but it was a mistake. A stupid reaction to the stuff he was saying that morning. He kept telling me I was sick, and I just snapped. Either way, slapping him was wrong, and I hurt his feelings. How did I know? He hugged me less, and at night, we didn’t fall asleep cuddling. Typically, he’d suffocate me like a bear in his arms, but for the last week, nothing. We also didn’t have sex. At first, he said it was because of my ankle, but now, when it barely even hurt, he changed his excuse to being too tired. It was fine, though, because honestly, I didn’t even want to have sex lately. It almost felt like my whole body was drained. If in the past a day didn’t go by without me wanting to jump him, recently, I was too tired to even think about it. But that wasn’t the point, because if Daniel wanted to have sex, I would have done it with him.

I knew a lie when I heard one, so this morning, when he told me everything was fine, I knew for a fact that nothing was. And after he left for work without kissing me goodbye, I understood something.

I have to make him forgive me.

One of the first things my maman taught me in life was that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. I lived by that rule, and when I first invited Daniel for a meal as a treat for giving me a ride? Yeah, it was no coincidence. I knew I wanted that man the second I laid my eyes on him and had no problem using the oldest trick in the book to get him. So… if it worked then, why shouldn’t it work now?

Tightening the apron around my waist, I looked at the ingredients spread before me. I planned a full-on three-course meal that would be so good he’d have to forgive me, simply because he’d be too full to hold in any anger.

I washed my hands and got to work, starting by cutting and slicing all of my vegetables. But after not cooking for almost two years, either it’d become a hell of a lot harder, or I’d gotten rusty. Either way, I did my best, and six hours later, I’d cooked enough food to feed a whole family of ten, or just one hungry Daniel.

Done filling the last chouquette, I put away my piping bag and looked down at the tray of freshly baked choux stuffed with cream. I think these are the best chouquettes I’ve ever baked. They looked parfaites and hopefully would taste just as good. After putting them away, I placed the remaining cream in the fridge right next to the chocolate éclairs I’d made earlier, then bent down to check on my Saint Honoré. The majestic cake would be tonight’s queen, and I was positive Daniel would ask me to marry him after tasting it. It was simply that delicious. I might have baked a lot of desserts for tonight, but Daniel had what the Americans called a sweet mouth. Or was it sweet teeth? The point was, my bebé loved sweets, and tonight would be all about that.

After cleaning the kitchen, all I had left to do was wait until evening came. So, proud and satisfied, I slumped down on our living room couch and turned on the TV. There would be several more hours before Daniel was back home, and after working in the kitchen, I deserved to rest. Recently, I’d been feeling extra tired, but I blamed it on the lack of work. Vito had given me a few days off to heal, and since Daniel was extremely annoying about my jogging, I also didn’t run. Or at least, that was what I kept telling him. It wasn’t a complete lie, because I only went out for two, maybe three, runs while he was at work. But it was really nothing serious, and he was making a big deal out of nothing. I huffed, thinking back on how silly he was for getting so scared that day. I placed my hand flat on my stomach and looked down.