Page 31 of My Destiny

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A smile tugs at my lips. “I am doing okay.”

“I’m glad.”

With that, I stand and head into the kitchen.

After pulling the tarts out of the oven, I place them on a plate. I grab the salad and the sirloin steaks that I prepared earlier from the fridge. The meat is for the main course, and I’ve pre-stuffed them with wild mushrooms. I need to quickly sear them in a pan before placing them in the oven.

After another glass of champagne and the first two courses, I feel much more relaxed. Logan complimented me through the entire meal and ate everything I put in front of him, which pleased me.

“Let me help with that,” he says as I stand to clear the table.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Thanks,” I say, smiling. I was quick to judge him tonight, which was unfair. Maybe he doesn’t have a Jeeves.

As he passes them to me, I rinse the plates and stack them in the dishwasher. It’s been nice having him here, and if I’m honest, I’m not ready for him to go yet.

“Do you mind if we hold off on dessert for a bit? I’m stuffed,” I say, placing my hand on my stomach.

“Wow, dessert too? You’ve really gone all out.”

“A bit, but I’ve missed cooking for others,” I say, wiping my hands on a tea towel.

“There’s been no one else since Jake?”

“No.” I see a small smile tug at his lips when I say that, though I don’t know why he finds that pleasing. “What happened with him has put me off relationships for now.” My words come out a little sterner than anticipated, but it’s the truth. Having my heart broken by someone who meant the world to me, isn’t something I can get over easily.

“That’s understandable. I went through something similar some years ago, so I can relate.”

His reply surprises me. “Your wife cheated on you?”

“No, I’ve never been married.” He chuckles as he leans up against the kitchen bench, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d been dating this woman for a while—well, two years, actually. We met at uni, and I thought one day we’d get married.” That’s where Jake and I met, but I don’t tell him that. “My father had me working ridiculously long hours. He was getting ready to retire and thought it was imperative I learn the ins-and-outs of the company before taking over.” He flicks his hand before continuing. “Anyway, to cut a long story short, I felt bad for not being around as much as I would’ve liked, so I surprised her with tickets to see her favourite band, but then something came up last minute at the office, and I couldn’t make it. I asked my best mate to take her, which turned out to be one of the biggest mistakes of my life.”

I gasp when I realise where he’s going with this. “Something happened between them?”

“Let’s just say they’re now married with two kids.”

Reaching out, I place my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry that happened to you… and with your best friend.”

“In hindsight, he was a player, so I should’ve known better. We’d been friends for fifteen years though, so I honestly thought I could trust him.”

“That’s awful. I can’t believe either of them did that to you.”

He shrugs before pushing off the bench. “Would you like another drink?”

“Sure.” I follow him back into the main room. Talking about it obviously still bothers him. I guess I can understand that. Reliving my situation with Jake is something I avoid at all costs, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get past the betrayal.

He pours champagne into both glasses before picking up his and downing it in one gulp. Hesitantly picking up my own glass, I take a seat at the table.

“So,” he says, joining me, “where did you learn to cook?” He’s changing the subject, and I’m okay with that. Sometimes the past is better left just there.

I run my finger around the top of my glass as I speak. “My mum worked in a lot of restaurants when I was growing up and taught me all the basics, but Miss Jones, the old lady who cared for me while Mum worked her many jobs, taught me how to bake. She was old school and did everything from scratch.”

I smile when I think of her. She became like a surrogate grandmother to me over the years. She was also the one who taught me how to play the piano. She was so patient and kind, and I miss her so much. She died when I was fourteen. Even though we were close, her death did nothing to prepare me for losing my mother years later. That’s a grief I don’t think I’ll ever recover from.

“She was obviously a good teacher,” he says. “Your cooking skills are very impressive.”