Invisible String

Chapter 9 -I'm so sorry

As I pulled the ingredients from the cabinet, memories of my childhood flooded my mind. I remembered how my grandmother patiently taught me to season the chicken with lemon and fresh herbs, and how she let me stir the thick, creamy sauce in the hot pan. Every time I prepared this recipe, it was like reliving those precious moments with her, although now they were mixed with a hint of sadness for her absence.

I began to work with expert hands, cutting the chicken into uniform pieces and generously seasoning them with salt, pepper, and slices of fresh lemon. As the chicken slowly browned in the pan, the tempting aroma began to fill the kitchen, enveloping me in a comforting and familiar sensation.

I immersed myself in the preparation process, letting the memories of my childhood blend with the anticipation of surprising Logan with a delicious home-cooked dinner.

After forty minutes, while setting the table for both of us, I felt the front door open. My heart skips a beat recognizing the sound, knowing it was Logan who was arriving. Nerves take hold of me, as cooking wasn't something I did frequently. It used to be an activity shared with my grandmother, but since her passing, my forays into the kitchen had become scarce, and the few times I did, I received criticisms like those from my friend.

My back straightens as I hear his steps approaching the room from behind. With a slight fear, I begin to turn to face him.

Immediately, I notice the confusion in his gaze, as if he didn't understand what was happening. Then I realize that maybe I had overstepped by taking ingredients from his refrigerator instead of buying my own. Perhaps there was a reason why we had opted for fast food instead of cooking at home.

You're a fool, Genesis! You act first, and then ask! -I scold myself in my mind, regretting my impulsiveness.

"I made dinner," I murmur softly, feeling my pulse quicken at his gaze fixed on me. "I hope you don't mind," I add, with a slight tone of uncertainty in my voice.

Logan watches me for a moment, his expression hard to decipher. I can feel the tension in the air as I wait for his response, wondering if I've made a mistake by taking the initiative to cook without consulting him first.

Finally, his face softens into a reassuring smile.

"I don't mind at all, Genesis," he responds gently. "In fact, I'm somewhat relieved that you cooked. I wasn't sure if you'd want to order pizza again."

A sigh of relief escapes my lips, and Logan notices, prompting him to ask:

"Did you think I would be angry or something?"

"It's just that I used your things without asking; I thought maybe you'd mind."

"As long as you're staying here, you can take whatever you want."

His words make my cheeks flush a deep crimson.

Do you know what I've fantasized about taking Logan? Your...

No! I wouldn't allow my mind to go there. Logan was my friend, nothing more.

Embarrassed by my thoughts, I decide to turn around quickly and head to the kitchen to quickly put the food on the table. Although I don't say anything, I know our actions speak louder than words, and I hope Logan understands how much I appreciate his kindness.

"Have you had a good day?" I ask as we both sit down at the table for dinner.

Logan nods, a satisfied expression on his face. "I guess so. We started writing a new song."

"I can't wait to hear it," I respond eagerly, but I almost choke on my words when I see him take a bite of chicken and taste it. A guttural sound of pleasure escapes his lips. I have to remind myself not to make a puddle on the floor, to keep my composure.