I turn to see her standing there holding three different pans with a pot under her arm. It makes me smile. "That one, and that one," I point.
She puts the rest back in the cabinet.
Baking with her is way more fun than I could have imagined.
"I'm really good at cooking, but I haven't done a lot of sweet stuff. Only muffins, really," she explains as she checks on the lasagna. It smells incredible. Creamy and rich. My stomach growls with anticipation.
"I can't wait to try it. You've cooked for me before, at the cabin. I enjoyed it then," I say.
"Yes, but that was limited ingredients from the pantry. And the cooking wasn't the surprise, the peppermint tart was," she smiles.
"Because I told you about how much I like peppermint?"
"Exactly. And because I wanted to say thank you for the way you took care of me while I was sick,"
Her smile is magnificent. The most beautiful thing to observe.
"You don't have to thank me for that, little rabbit," I tell her, reaching out to touch her cheek.
"But I want to. It meant a lot to me," her eyes glimmer with a delicate softness as she stares into mine. My heart skips a beat, and I quickly pull my hand away and clear my throat.
"What's next?" I ask, turning away from that exquisite face.
Once the peppermint tart is in the fridge, waiting to set, Nikita and I lay the table for dinner.
While she's in the kitchen fetching the lasagna, I add candles to the table and turn the main light low. She put in so much effort to make the dinner; we might as well make the whole experience special.
She walks in carrying the dish, steaming hot and smelling even better than before. Nikita sets it down on a wooden board next to a fresh garden salad.
"Born up a tree?" she grins.
"Bon Appétit?" I laugh, pulling her chair out for her.
"Mine's better," she giggles.
"I agree," I nod, taking a seat as well.
Dinner is a slow, relaxed experience. Being around her, talking to her about life and dreams and bucket list wishes… it removes me from the stress and drama that the world holds over me. Nothing else seems to matter when I'm laughing with her.
Nikita tells me about how she wants to go to Siberia and feel what it's like to stand in real snow. Bone-chilling, body-freezing snow. She talks about going to Mexico for Día De Los Muertos and then visiting Peru to climb Machu Picchu. While she speaks of these things, her eyes light up and her voicebecomes bubbly with excitement. I can't help but want to go there too. With her. I want to do everything with her. Somehow, I know that she would make it a hundred times more exciting. More fun.
Our plates are empty, and sitting in front of us for a full hour while we're lost in conversation with each other. She's captivating me—more and more each day.
"Oh, I think the tart will be ready!" She stands up, excited to try it.
"I'll clear the table," I say, standing up too.
"Let's put something warm on and eat dessert outside under the stars," she calls out over her shoulder on the way to the kitchen. That's something I really adore about her. She likes to do things differently. She likes to make things more fun and to enjoy the little things whenever she can. That's how I want to live my life, too. I want to forget about everything else and let go. I want to take advantage of every moment.
And I want to do it with her.
Chapter 18 - Nikita
Finding out that I'm pregnant has changed everything.
It's a beautiful sunny day, and I'm roaming around the garden with a head full of thoughts. Barefoot on the lush green grass, I feel the earth beneath my feet and walk toward the fence that leads out onto the private beach.
I don't walk past it. I stand, leaning against it, watching the waves while the security guards watch me.
