"GOOD morning."
I stopped pouring coffee into my mug when I heard that familiar voice. I turned my head and saw Gideon at the entrance of the kitchen.
He was still wearing the clothes from last night. His white shirt was slightly crinkled from sleeping. His hair was slightly disheveled. There was a five o'clock shadow on his face.
"G-Good morning." Damn. It was the first time I heard that from him.
Everything he had been doing since he woke up from the accident was making me jump.
He was still asleep when I left him in the bedroom.
"I smelled coffee…" He smiled as he maneuvered his wheelchair towards me.
I cleared my throat. I don't think I could get used to him smiling.
"Do you want some?"
"Yes, please. The same as yours."
I blinked. Even his preference for coffee had changed. I remembered he liked his coffee black.
"Are you sure? You wanted your coffee black, Gideon."
He glanced at my cup before looking back at me. "I wanted it just like yours."
"Fine." I shrugged before making him coffee.
"Did you cook these?" He asked after I placed his coffee on the dining table.
He was looking at the food in front of us. I prepared french toast, bacon, scrambled eggs, and sautéed vegetables.
My forehead creased. I stopped myself from arching my brow. "Who else? We're the only ones here. Hanna isn't here yet."
Hanna is the caregiver/physical therapist that Amelia hired for Gideon. She'd arrive later today.
"What do you want to eat?" I asked as I placed a plate in front of him.
We seldom share breakfast before. Every time I woke up in the morning, Gideon was already out of the house.
But now, I was obligated to do this. It's part of my responsibility as his wife.
He pursed his lips. "Everything. I want to try everything."
"Oh. Okay." I let him put food on his plate.
"Do we always eat breakfast together?" he asked after I took the seat across from him.
I picked up the platter of eggs and put some on my plate. "No. We don't eat breakfast together. You always leave early for work. I didn't even know if you eat breakfast."
He pursed his lips. "So, I was a workaholic asshole before I lost my memory?"
I almost choked on my coffee.
"You okay, Bianca?"
"Yeah." I nodded my head. "It's just… I couldn't believe I would hear you call yourself an asshole."
I didn't know if I would shake my head or laugh. In the end, I just smirked. Maybe I should record this so I have something I could laugh at in the future.
"Was I really that kind of asshole?" he asked, wincing.
I nodded as I ate some bacon. "You are… but let's not talk about that."
Even if I wanted to spit on him, I managed to act casual. And I commend myself for being able to control my emotions in front of him.
"You've said we met in a bar in New York, right? That means you're from New York?"
I nodded. "I used to live alone in New York. But my parents and I were originally from Portland, Maine."
"Your family… they're in Portland?"
I stilled. "No. They're already both dead." My grip on the fork tightened. "My mother died when I was twenty. Leukemia." I took a sharp breath. "My father died six months ago. Only a month after we got married."
"I'm sorry, Bianca."
I gritted my teeth as I stared at the food in front of me.
When my father died, I wasn't even there with him. And I blamed Gideon for that.
"Let's stop talking about that."
"Bianca… I'm so—"
"Stop it, Gideon," I said, my voice hard. The corner of my eyes hot from unshed tears. "I don't want to talk about that. Just asked something else."
"I'm sorry."
My lips pressed in a thin line as I nodded at him.
"What do you do there?" he asked, breaking the silence between us.
I cleared my throat. "I was a librarian at the New York Public Library."
"Really?"
My eyes drifted to him. There was an amused smile on his face. His blue eyes sparkled with interest.
"I love books." I simply answered before sipping on my coffee.
"How did we get here in LA?"
"After we got married, you asked me to leave my work and go with you here in LA."
His lips parted. "I did that?"
I couldn't help the bitter smile that formed on my lips. "Yes, you did."
See how you manipulated my life, Gideon?
"Do you miss working?"
I raised my brow. "Of course. That has been my life for years."
He cleared his throat before offering me a small smile. "You know, if you want… we can go back to New York."
I stopped eating and slightly raised my brow. Oh. I will surely go back there. After you recover.
"This is where your family is, Gideon. And your work. Besides, you're still recovering. Your rehabilitation should be your utmost priority."
He looked down at my plate. "What's your favorite food?"
"Pasta."
"Do you know what's mine?"
I remembered what Amelia said to me. "You like baby back ribs. Steak. Medium rare."
He pursed his lips as he bit on his toast.
"Do I also cook?"
"Yeah. Amelia said you can cook."
His forehead creased. "According to my mom? Does it mean, I haven't cooked once since we got married?"
I let out a sarcastic chuckle as I tilted my head. "Like I said, you hated me, Gideon."
Gideon sighed. His eyes remained on my face.
"What?"
"You have something on your face."
He reached for my face. My eyes slightly widened when his fingers touched my skin. His thumb brushed the left side of my chin.
"There." He said in the most soft tone I had heard from him yet, his eyes full of gentleness.
I blinked… then I frowned when I realized what he did.
"T-thanks, Gideon."
"You're welcome." His lips curved up in a smile just as his eyes remained on me. "You have a pair of beautiful eyes, Bianca."
I didn't realize that words suddenly left me.
I heard the doorbell. "That must be Hanna. I'll go get her."
I stood up from my seat and walked to the doorway, my hand on my chest. My heart was beating erratically. Damn Gideon!