I’m hungry Go get me some soup. From that place on the west side. I want it fresh and piping hot.”
“Okay
“And I want some of those green bean pastries. You’ll have to wait in line.”
“I will.”
Is there no limit to his compliance?
“Will you really do anything I say?”
“Yes.” He took my hand and began to gently, meticulously wipe it clean with a wet wipe. “Anything that makes you happy.”
www
The man was certifiably insane. I blinked, a sly smile playing on my lips. “In that case. I’m thinking of taking on a couple of college boys as sugar babies. Will you foot the bill for that, Number Three?”
His grip on my hand tightened for a fraction of a second. Then he relaxed, his gaze softening as he looked at the red marks his fingers had left, He brought my hand to his lips and blew on it gently. “If that would truly bring you happiness he murmured, “then yes. I would.”
i was speechless. The man was a lost cause.
I didn’t want takeout, so I sent him to the kitchen to cook. Leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed, I watched him expertly chop vegetables.
“The toilet’s clogged,” I announced suddenly
He grunted an affirmative, pulled off nisicumber Three, can you go take care of it?” By
gloves, and headed for the bathroom. When he returned, hands washed, I watched him with a complicated expression. “If my mother knew I was making you do this, she’d probably skin me alive.” Gervase was a god in her eyes. And I was making her god plunge toilets. It was blasphemy.
They don’t matter,” he said curtly. “Stella, don’t let them
you unhappy”
That was the third time he’d said that. A thought suddenly struck me. “You seem terrified of me being unhappy. Why?”
He paused his work, but didn’t turn or answer
When he called me for dinner, I was engrossed in a movie. It was the climax, the hero and heroine tangled in a passionate embrace. Gervase switched it off. Time to eat.”
“I don’t want to “I pouted, “I’m not eating food made by hands that h
just been unclogging a toilet.”
It was unfair it was childish. I expected him to get angry
He didn’t. He just looked at his own hands with a helpless expression.
וויוי
go take a shower And I’ll cook you a fresh meal. Just wait for me.”
My eyes narrowed. There it was again. That strange feeling. He was coddling me, indulging my every whim like I was a petulant child. A gentle, cautious, desperate effort to keep me happy
But why?
My eyes landed on an apple on the table. I picked up a paring knife. The moment the handle settled into my palm, I heard Gervase’s sharp cry
1
“What are you doing?!”
My hard jerked. The blade sliced across my finger, drawing a bright red line of blood.
Gervase lunged, snatching the knife from my hand and flinging it across the room where it clattered against the far wall.
Chapter 2
kis forehead was beaded with sweat, his face a deathly white. He grabbed my injured hand, his own trembling as he dabbed at the welling blood with a tissue.
Chapter 2
His forehead was beaded with sweat, his face a deathly white. He grabbed my injured hand, his own trembling as he dabbed at the welling blood with a tissue.
“Did you think I was going to kill myself with a paring knife?” I stared at his panicked state and ventured a guess. “Gervase, are you afraid I’m going to die?” Was that it? Was his fear of my unhappiness, his fear of me holding a knife, all rooted in a fear of my suicide? “Why would you think I’d kill myself?” I asked, genuinely puzzled. I knew I had issues, but I was trying to live a good life. It wasn’t that bad.
Gervase looked at me, a deep, unreadable expression in his eyes. “Your parents told me. They said your mental state was fragile, that I should watch you closely.”
I froze, then let out a short, sharp laugh. “They told you that? That’s rich. “I remembered my college advisor calling them, concerned about my psychological well–being. My mother, in the middle of a card game, had been dismissive. “She’s just being dramatic. Ignore her. A good spanking is all she needs. She’s got food and a roof over her head, what’s there to be depressed about? So spoiled. Gervase never has these problems…”
I had been sitting right there, across from my advisor, listening to my mother’s voice crackle through the phone. I’d managed a weak smile for the mortified professor. “It’s okay,” I’d said. “I‘ mused to it.” Used to expecting nothing from them.
Remembering it now, in this context, was darkly funny. “I’m fine,” I said, patting Gervase’s shoulder. “I’m not going to kill myself. You don’t have to worry.” Death was the coward’s way out. They were the ones who were wrong. Why should I be the one to die? It made no sense. If I ever reached a point of such despair, I’d make sure to drag every last one of them down to hell
with me
“But thank you,” I added softly. “Gervase, I never thought… I never thought the first person to ever genuinely worry about my mental health would be you.”
So you don’t hate me anymore?”
“What?”
“If you’re thanking me, that means you don’t hate me anymore, right?”
“It’s not the same thing.”
Gervase just smiled, seemingly unfazed. I cleared my throat, changing the subject. “So, all that… compliance earlier. You agreeing to everything. Was that just because you were worried about my mental state?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I wanted you to vent.” He finished bandaging my finger and looked up at me. “Trampling me under your foot, making mey doesn’t it? You said I’m a ‘god‘ in your parents‘ eyes. By putting me down, you’re invalidating them. Does that feel good?”
