Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 135652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Nathan whips off his gloves and immediately goes to the sink to wash his hands. He does realise I didn’t actually touch his skin right? “It just shocked me, I should have been more careful,” he says calmly but I can see the stress in his eyes. “Leave that. You’ll cut yourself, I’ll get the sweeping brush.”
I stand and search for the dustpan and brush as he sweeps the entire area into one small pile. After scooping them up I tip them in the bin and watch him wash his hands again.
Placing a napkin over his fingertips he opens a nearby drawer and pulls out another pair of the same style gloves. He really has a problem.
“We good?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.
He nods, flexing his fingers inside the leather, “I apologize for startling you.”
I’m shocked, he sounds genuinely apologetic. I go to place my hand on his arm as a way to comfort him but think better of it and take a step back. “It was an accident, could happen to anyone.”
His eyes linger on my face for a long while, I look away not willing to decipher the emotion in them.
“Gwen…” He lets out a breath and stalks from the room.
What was he going to say? Probably apologize again or maybe a thank you.
My thoughts don’t linger on this as I get back to the cleaning, my stomach rolls and turns as the baby tries to get comfortable. I pat my swollen tum affectionately and retire for the night.
******
Nathan has left before breakfast, leaving me to deal with the delivery of my new laptop. I set it up immediately, eager to play. It’s a very good laptop I have to admit and obviously didn’t cost a small amount. This makes me feel even worse about my opinions on Nathan. Sure he may be moody and a bit of an introvert and sometimes rude, not to mention the fact he can be mean and tactless. But he’s trying to help, whether that’s due to guilt or loyalty to his brother, I don’t know. Either way he’s still helping and he’s still providing me with anything I require.
When collecting the password from the fridge I notice Nathan’s mobile number underneath the pin. I set up the WI-FI and contemplate for a while on whether or not I should text him.
I decide yes.
Gwen: Thank you for the laptop. It’s great. G x
He doesn’t respond, I don’t expect him to or need him to.
I sit and have a cup of tea with Jeanine before she leaves and watch videos on YouTube. Funny videos that would crack even the coldest of souls yet none of them even draw a smile from me.
I wonder if I’ll ever feel the same but then I realise I don’t think I ever want to. Gone is bubbly girl who smiled ate everything and in her place is the girl who found her fiancée dead beside her only five months before the arrival of their baby.
I keep reminding myself that it has hardly been any time at all and grief takes time to settle. It’ll always be there but it will settle eventually. I’m still grieving… aren’t I?
Sure I get sad when I think about him but other than that I don’t feel anything at all. Just this constant state of numbness.
******
“I don’t agree,” I add to the conversation between myself, Paula and her friend Daisy who has met us for lunch. “The best unscripted ingredients are a dash of cinnamon and a spoonful of mayonnaise.”
“Codswallop,” Paula waves me off. “Everybody knows if you warm the batter first and add nutmeg it tastes divine.”
Jeanine chuckles, “Let’s agree to disagree.”
It feels good to be talking about food again, it feels like it’s been years since I last attended University. In reality it has been a little over four weeks. It’s only been a little over five weeks since the love of my life died and I’m feeling something other than numb.
It’s not happiness nor contentedness but it’s something above the darkness that I’ve succumbed to as of late.
That’s not good… I think.
It makes me feel guilty.
I was happy over food. Out of everything I could feel about after his death, food would be it. Food has always been my passion. Cooking, baking, frying, stewing, the list is endless.
Caleb used to love how excited I became when I successfully made a dish. Any kind. As soon as it was done I’d practically jump for joy, force it down his throat and pant at his feet until he told me how good it was. Sometimes I wondered if he just told me it was good so I wouldn’t get disappointed.
Caleb wouldn’t do that.
“What do you think?” Daisy asks me.
I blink a few times and shake my head, “Sorry, I was miles away.”