Page 75 of Only You and Me

I squeeze her hand and nod, because I can’t speak right now. If I do, she’ll hear the emotion in my voice. After a few seconds, we both turn our heads to look out at the yard and we sit like that for another ten minutes before Trina speaks again.

“Can you move your SUV into the garage so we can put some of my stuff in it? I’m thinking we should do that where he can’t see what we’re doing, if he’s w-watching, I mean. Then will you drive me to the fire station to pick up my car?”

“Of course.” I stand and grab both of our empty mugs. “You go get started and I’ll load and run the dishwasher before I pull the car into the garage.”

An hour and a half later, I use the remote to open my garage door and Trina pulls in. I live at the end of a street and there are no other cars around. I’m certain no one followed us, so, for the first time in hours, I can breathe without feeling like a vice is around my chest.

I help Trina get her things into the house and into the master bedroom.

“I can move my toiletries and essential clothes out tonight if you want privacy,” I offer.

Trina swivels on her heel and pins a glare at me. “What? Are we pretending that we haven’t slept in the same bed for weeks now?”

Flustered, I run a hand through my hair. “No, of course not. I’d love to sleep in here with you.” I move closer to her. “I want to.” A few steps closer. “But if you need alone time and some privacy right now, I want to give it to you.” I take the last few steps to her and cup her cheek with my hand.

She stands up on her tiptoes, wraps a hand around the nape of my neck, and pulls me down for a kiss. A kiss that only lasts maybe thirty seconds but sets my insides on fire.

“Does that seem like I want you sleeping in another room?” she asks.

I smile against her mouth. “No. No, it doesn’t.”

She pulls back. “Good. Now show me where I can put my clothes, please, and then teach me how to use the alarm system before you go back to work.”

CHAPTER25

TRINA

I watch nervously as Rose dips a wooden spoon into the pan on Ben’s stove, scoops out a few spoonfuls of sauce and places them into a small bowl. She uses a teaspoon to get a sample and blows on it to cool it off. I nibble on the edge of my thumb nail nervously and inhale deeply, the aroma of cooking garlic filling my nose.

As if in slow motion, Rose lifts the spoon to her mouth and puts it in, then closes her eyes and swallows. That was one of the early lessons in the cooking classes Ben’s mom has been giving me for a month. First, it was to cook while you’re listening to something you enjoy and that brings you peace. It could be a certain type of music, silence, or even the sound of your family laughing and talking in the background. But the other key one was to close your eyes when you taste, to focus only on the flavors you’re experiencing while being bathed in the sounds that make you happy.

She’s gonna hate it. I’m sure of it. But when she opens her eyes, she smiles radiantly.

“You did it, sweetheart. You made a bolognese sauce that’s as good as my grandma’s ever was.”

I pull my hand away from my mouth and grin. “Really? It’s not disgusting?”

Rose releases a hearty laugh, making me happy on the inside. “Try it yourself. I promise you, it’s delicious.”

I put a little of the sauce on my spoon and lift it to my mouth, closing my eyes just as she taught me. When the warm, thick sauce hits my tastebuds, I grin with delight as I taste the tangy sweetness mixed with Italian herbs and the pleasant flavor fills my entire mouth. I swallow, then open my eyes.

I glance over at Rose and whisper, “I did it. Thank you so much.” My vision blurs with moisture and I feel foolish. I’m about to cry over beef bolognese sauce.

“Oh, honey… Let’s grab our coffees and go have a seat on the couch, okay?”

I sniffle and nod, then we both grab our cups of iced coffee. I turn off the burner under my sauce, and we walk into Ben’s living room and plant ourselves on the cushy navy blue couch, sinking in.

“I’m sorry. I’m just… I thought I couldn’t cook and never would be able to and now I know I can and,”—I grab a tissue from the table next to me and wipe my nose—“and I’m just really overwhelmed right now.”

Rose smiles at me and it’s filled with warmth and something I take a second to place. I’m not used to seeing it from a motherly figure. It’s acceptance. And no judgment.

“Trina, it’s okay that you didn’t know how to cook. You just needed someone to teach you and you’re doing wonderfully in our lessons.” Her voice is reassuring.

“Emily didn’t need lessons, and she’s an amazing cook,” I counter.

“Yes, she is, and it comes very natural to her. I bet if you asked her, there’s stuff she had to work on perfecting. But could Emily attend fire academy at twenty-one years old and, being the only woman, graduate first in her class in a course that requires not just brains but physical strength? Was Emily promoted to captain over a crew of firefighters at just thirty? Did Emily literally carry a woman out of a burning building earlier this summer, making the front page of the local paper?”

I sniffle and laugh. “Okay. I get it. That all comes naturally to me, and I work hard to excel at the physical. Maybe that’s where my talents lie, and I just have to train myself to cook.”

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