I wanted to show this to him. Especially now that I know the truth. It’s no wonder Mr. Edgewood’s been alone and isolated for so long if he’s afraid of how he appears to others.
But I had imagined him appearing in that beastly form anyway, sitting at the table, experiencing each course like any human man would, enjoying it despite his appearance. I wanted to show him that I don’t fear him, that he’s safe to have a meal with me.
Biting back tears, I stomp into the kitchen and prepare the appetizers anyway. I tuck each flan under the glass dome, topped with charred fennel, then pump them full of wood smoke. I bring them out one at a time, setting one at Mr. Edgewood’s place, then Kellen’s, then mine. I sit down firmly and lift the lid, trying to enjoy the experience I set out to create.
But it means nothing to me. Kellen attempts to eat it, tipping the dome back and letting the smoke escape, inhaling it before he takes a bite of his food.
When he’s done, I take all the plates away, including the untouched Mr. Edgewood’s. Then I return with the entree, which I can’t bring myself to eat either. Kellen is a sport about it, tasting and complimenting my work, but it all rings hollow.
I can’t even summon the energy to prepare dessert. When I bring out the chocolate shells I tempered and hardened inside their silicone molds, I start snapping them, one at a time. I’m crying now, breaking and smashing the chocolate until Kellen comes into the room and notices what I’m doing.
“Stop, Peony,” he commands, but I ignore him, pulling the cakes out of the fridge and ripping them from their molds, throwing each one in the trash. “Stop at once, Ms. Austin!”
I glare at him. “Why? Who cares? Nobody!” I dump the next cake, my vision growing blurry. “All this for nothing, when I didn’t do anythingwrong!”
I hurl the entire tin into the garbage, then turn and stompaway, unable to hold it in any longer. I’m throwing a tantrum like a toddler, I know, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
It hurts too much. I showed my soul on that plate, and Mr. Edgewood couldn’t even be bothered to show up.
rupert
Of course I do not attend the dinner. I don’t require additional humiliation.
A little after seven, there comes a very loud rapping at my door.
“Open up!” Kellen calls out, louder than is characteristic. “Open this door, Rupert!”
He is using my first name. That’s not a good sign.
Worried that something has happened to Ms. Austin, I rush to the door and yank it open. Standing outside is a dangerously furious Kellen Castle.
He jabs a finger at me. “You didn’t come tonight.”
I furrow my brow, but that pointed finger is enough to send me stepping back over the threshold. Kellen follows me inside, then slams the door closed behind him.
“I did not,” I agree. “I know how Ms. Austin feels about my form. It was plain as day when she saw me last night. I will not inflict it upon her further.”
“She told you she wanted you there.” Kellen’s scowl deepens. “We shopped all day yesterday. And then today, from the moment she woke up, she was working on her meal. Preparing an entire experience. Just for you.”
I hiss as he encroaches on my space. I’ve never seen Kellen so angry before.
“Well, I didn’t want it.” I cross my arms petulantly.
“Don’t lie to yourself!” The volume of Kellen’s admonishment takes me by surprise. “You wanted to go. She wanted you to go. But you didn’t go, and for what? All you did was make a woman cry.”
I balk. “She cried?”
“Of course she cried.” Kellen is no longer shouting, but talking in a very low and dangerous voice, as if he is the predator here, the monster, and not me. I didn’t realize how possessive he had become of Ms. Austin, not until now. “She was devastated. She had done all sorts of science experiments to impress you. She wanted to show you an evening of enjoyment, but your pride was too big, wasn’t it?”
I want to argue with him. I want to tell him that I don’t need her and he should sack her. But it’s not true, and I know it. I do need Peony Austin, and now I’ve damaged the fragile thread between us.
I fall back to sit in my chair. I didn’t intend to make her cry. I didn’t intend to hurt her.
“What should I do?” I ask at last, dropping my head in my hands. “I ruined it.”
“That you did.” Kellen strokes his chin. “Apologize, at least.”
My hand curls into a fist. I know he’s right, but apologizing doesn’t come naturally to me.
