Page 11 of Unforeseen Love

Once I’m showered, I feel a bit better and change into my loungewear. I’m sure as hell not going to hide out in my room again like I did yesterday.

When I walk into the living room, he’s sprawled out on the sofa, typing away on his phone. He looks up when I sit in the armchair, and I reach for the remote.

“Hey, I was watching that,” he says when I turn it over to the news.

Ignoring him, I turn up the volume, waiting for the government's announcement regarding the Coronavirus.

Watching in my peripheral vision, he scoots forward, his attention now drawn away from his phone.

“Now is the time for everyone to stop non-essential contact and travel.”

Theo scoffs at that. “I’d say getting laid is essential.”

This time, I turn my full attention on him, raising my eyebrows. “Seriously? It's a pandemic, for crying out loud.”

“Chill your beans, Morticia.”

Pushing to my feet, I toss the remote in his direction, annoyed when he catches it swiftly.

“Stop calling me that,” I grit out. I hate that I’m showing him how much he’s getting under my skin. It’s not even been forty-eight hours, and I want to throttle him.

I’m heavy-handed as I start to look in the cupboards. I don’t even notice him come up behind me until he speaks in my ear, causing me to startle and butt my head against the handle of the cupboard.

“I put a pasta bake in. There’s enough for you too.”

Turning to face him, I take a step to the side. “What’s the catch?” I cross my arms over my chest.

He runs his hand through his hair and lets out a sigh. “There is no catch, but now that you mention it…” He wiggles his eyebrows.

My mouth falls open, and I look at him incredulously. He just laughs and shakes his head. “Maybe all that smut you read has gone to your head.” I’m ready to rip him a new one, but he continues. “You can wash up.” I wait, expecting him to come out with some sort of sexist comment about a woman's place being in the kitchen, but he doesn’t, so I just nod, still wary of him.

I set the table, and he eyes me as I straighten the placemats. When the timer goes off on the oven, I linger in the kitchen, watching as he dishes up the pasta bake. I still wouldn’t put it past him not to put something in my food out of spite.

I pour us both a glass of coke as he slides my plate to me and then starts digging in like it's his last meal.

After poking around for anything suspicious, I raise my fork and smell it before taking a bite. Once the flavour hits my taste buds, I unintentionally let out a hum of satisfaction.

For once, Theo keeps his mouth shut, but I don’t miss his smirk as he continues stuffing his face. At least he chews with his mouth closed.

ChapterEight

Theo

I was up early today, wanting to do a walkthrough and just get my bearings. Nothing much has changed, but I do want to make some minor changes for the better, at some point. A few things could do with fixing up too.

Entering the embalming theatre, I want to take a stock check of autopsy equipment. There are two stainless steel embalming tables with a sink and spray hose, and they look impeccably clean, as I would expect. Uncle Ewan said that they were new purchases, and it's clear he opted for the premium stainless steel with the built-in drainage system.

It's sterile to a fault in here. When I was younger, I had this preconceived notion that it would smell like dead people, but in fact, the embalming fluid is a sharp chemical smell if emollients are used in the fluid to avoid dehydration of a body––it has a slight sweet smell.

But any good funeral home will not smell. It’s why a good ventilation system is so important.

“Can I help you?”

I turn to see Sienna, standing with her arms crossed.

“Nope, just doing inventory,” I say, turning back towards the table and looking at my tablet, swiping up with the stylus.

Sienna moves around until she’s in front of me, and I look up from my tablet.

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