Nicholas POV.
" Not now Daryl. You know mom won't like it… okay… whatever…. See you." I ended the call with Daryl, my adopted younger brother.I was going through my emails when someone knocked on my door. " Come in" I replied still focused on my laptop . " Good morning Nicholas." I heard her voice. The voice I have been waiting to hear these past three days. I knew it was her . I continued to focus on my work ignoring her. I heard her footsteps get closer until she was in front of my desk. " Nicholas? I brought the documents of the apartment ." She said trying to get me to talk to her chaneling it to work " My assistant is just outside my door leave it with him, I'm busy." I said not glancing at her. " Nicholas I know you're angry talk to me." She said sitting down. " I have to go for lunch." I said , looking at my watch and got up to leave when she grabbed my hand . "I'm sorry I didn't call you this past weekend. My parents took all our phones saying we should put work aside and enjoy with our nana ." She explained. I looked at her hand on my wrist and sighed. " Okay. Do you care to join me." I asked already walking away. She catches up with me before the elevator opened. We stepped inside. I wasn't in the mood to talk to her so I kept quiet and looked ahead. " How's work?" She tried asking to enlighten the awkward moment " Fine." I replied still looking ahead " Nicholas?" She called " Hmmm." I hummed in response " Why are you behaving like this." She asked annoyed. I turned sharply at her "It's just that every time I think I have made progress with this," I said gesturing to the both of us " you always… hmm." I said running a hand through my hair frustrated. "I always do what?" She asked stepping closer " It's okay." I replied. She caressed my cheeks and smiled at me. "I know what you mean I'll try to stay in touch." She said and tiptoed and quickly pecked my lips . I smiled as I held her hand. The elevator opened as we stepped out and moved toward the office cafeteria. We got seated and I ordered. " What would you order?" I asked her " Nothing. I just want to watch you eat." She said and smiled. We were talking about the interiors of her apartment when my food arrived. It was omelette and orange juice. "Would you like to take a bite?" I offered "Eww no! I don't take in egg because it comes from the ass of a random chicken." She said and wringed her nose. I almost choked on my food but I pushed that thought aside and continued with my meal. "Any plans tonight?" I asked after wiping my mouth clean. " Nothing." She replied. I thought for a while before a wide grin appeared on my face " I'll pick you up after work , okay." I said more like a statement than a question. " Okayyyy." She replied and smiled. We sat looking at each other before she got up to answer a phone call. She came back taking her bag , " My elder brother wants me to send some documents to him. I'll call you when I'm ready." She said and rushed out. I also moved back to the office to wrap up and wait for her call.
In the evening..
I planned a special evening, a quiet escape from the city's hustle. I picked her up, the air thick with the anticipation of the unknown. We drove for about an hour, the city lights fading behind us , replaced by the inky blackness of the countryside. Finally, we arrived at a secluded lake, its surface reflecting the starlight like a scattered handful of diamonds.
I led her down a narrow path holding her hand to a small clearing, where I set up a blanket, some fruits , and a bottle of sparkling cider. The silence was broken only by the gentle lapping of the water against the shore and the distant hoot of an owl. We sat in comfortable silence for a while, gazing at the stars, the tension between us slowly easing. Then, i turned to her, my eyes meeting hers in the dim light. "This place… it's special to me," i began, my voice a low murmur. "I've been coming here since I was a kid. It's always been my escape, my place to think, to just… be. And you're the only person I've ever brought here." I paused, taking her hand, my thumb gently caressing her skin. "I wanted to share this with you, because… well, because you're important to me. You make me laugh, you challenge me, and you make me want to be a better person. Being with you feels… right." I looked at her, searching her eyes for a sign, a reaction. The lake, the stars, the quiet intimacy of the moment seemed to amplify the unspoken feelings between us as she leaned into my shoulder , creating a bubble of shared vulnerability and unspoken possibilities.
The following weekend, i invited Isabella to join me for my weekly grocery shopping. As we strolled through the bustling aisles of the local market, Isabella found herself captivated by the vibrant displays of fresh produce, the fragrant herbs, and the exotic spices. I was enjoying her company and happily pointing out my favorite ingredients and shared my usual meal plans.
"I'm thinking of making pasta this week," i mentioned, picking up a package of fresh tomatoes. "But I'm not sure which sauce to go for."
Isabella's eyes lit up. "Oh, I love Italian food! My grandmother taught me a few amazing recipes. I make a mean Bolognese, and my pesto is to die for."
My ears perked up. "Really? Wow, I'm impressed! I'm always trying to learn new recipes. You know what? You should come over and cook for me sometime! I'd love to try your Bolognese." I grinned, the idea suddenly appealing. "We could even make a whole Italian feast!"
Isabella's smile widened. "I'd love that! It's been a while since I've cooked a proper meal for someone." The prospect of sharing her culinary skills with me, creating a delicious meal together, filled me with a warm sense of anticipation.
The following Saturday, Isabella arrived at my apartment, a bag of groceries in hand. "Ready for an Italian adventure?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
I being equally enthusiastic, ushered her inside. "Absolutely! I've cleared the decks, and the kitchen's all yours."
We started with the Bolognese. Isabella, with her grandmother's guidance in mind, began by dicing onions, carrots, and celery, the "soffritto" base. I was watching intently, offered to chop the garlic. The aroma of sautéing vegetables filled the kitchen as we added ground beef and pork, browning them to perfection. Isabella then poured in a splash of red wine, letting it simmer before adding crushed tomatoes, herbs, and a bay leaf. The sauce simmered for hours, filling the apartment with a rich, savory scent.
While the Bolognese bubbled away, we tackled the pesto. Isabella showed me how to gently crush fresh basil leaves with garlic, pine nuts, and Parmesan cheese in a mortar and pestle, adding olive oil in a slow, steady stream. The vibrant green paste was a testament to her grandmother's teachings.
Finally, it was time to assemble the feast. We cooked the pasta al dente, tossed it with the Bolognese, and served it with a generous grating of Parmesan. The pesto, drizzled over bruschetta, provided a fresh, bright counterpoint to the richness of the sauce.
As we sat by my kitchen counter , savoring our creation, the conversation flowed as freely as the wine. We talked about our lives, our dreams, and out shared love of design in our aspects. The Bolognese, with its depth of flavor, and the fragrant pesto, were a testament to our combined efforts. It was more than just a meal; it was a shared experience, a moment of connection, and a memory we would both cherish.
As the last of the tiramisu disappeared, a contented silence settled over the table. The remnants of our Italian feast were cleared, and the kitchen, once a whirlwind of activity, was now spotless.
"That was incredible," I said, leaning back in my chair, a smile still playing on my lips. "Thank you, Isabella. It was the best meal I've had in ages."Isabella beamed. "I'm so glad you enjoyed it. It was fun cooking with you."
The evening deepened, filled with easy conversation and laughter. Eventually, the time came to say goodbye. I walked Isabella to the door, the soft glow of the hallway light illuminating her face.
"I had a wonderful time. If I'm not working then I'm at home. My brother is also extra careful with me going out so I don't get the liberty to go out like I used to. I can't wait for my apartment to be completed." she said, turning to face me. " I have been wanting to ask why you needed a new apartment?" I asked carefully. " Hmm,my brothers didn't want me to stay in the same apartment because my ex boyfriend tried countless times to break in. So I moved to stay with Kevin." She explained sadly. " Oh! I didn't know." I told her"It's okay.Thank you for inviting me."
"The pleasure was all mine," I replied, a hint of warmth in my voice. "I hope we can do it again soon."I said and pecked her cheeks.
As she stepped out into the cool night air, I watched her walk towards her car, a sense of warmth spreading through me. I closed the door, the lingering scent of garlic and basil a pleasant reminder of the evening.