Let's Do It, Again

Chicken Pot Pie

I watched Lilah inhale small and steady breaths as she slept, her orange blanket bundled in her fist.

I smiled, taking a moment to absorb the innocence projected from her face just then.

"Rie, dinner's ready!" I heard Trey call from downstairs.

I kissed Lilah's forehead softly, checking if the windows were locked and her night light was on before shutting the door quietly behind me.

I entered the kitchen to the wonderfully familiar aroma of one of my all time favourites meals.

"I hope you like chicken pot pie," Trey said, giving me a small smile as he brought two dishes over to the island, containing satisfying-looking portions of food.

I couldn't help the large grin that stretched across my face. I rubbed my palms together, nodding. "I love chicken pot pie." I inhaled deeply, licking my lips.

Trey handed me a fork and knife. "Oh, and sorry about Izzy yesterday. He can be a little bit of a.. a.."

"Overly-obnoxious pompous imbecilic douche?" I suggested, smiling politely.

Trey cracked a grin. "You could say that."

I scoffed. "I could think of much more, trust me."

We sat at the island side by side, chatting lightly. The food was cooked to perfection; tender chicken, a rich sauce, softly cooked veggies and crispy golden pastry.

I noticed a few spots of white flour on Trey's navy blue t-shirt, and a rolling pin on the counter next to the sink. My eyebrows cocked. "Did you make the pastry by hand, Trey?"

He nodded, chewing and swallowing before speaking. I couldn't help but smile at the way he chews, the tight clenching of his jaw and the way he seems so focused in his meal. "Yeah, I hate the store-bought kind, and I thought I'd try to make my own."

I was dumbfounded. Not because it was Trey Songz, famous singer/songwriter sitting next to me eating his own homemade chicken pot pie that he made from scratch.

No, not that.

It's the fact that the only time Carter had cooked for me was the day after my mom died. And the spaghetti he cooked tasted pretty similar to the one my favourite Italian restaurant on Smiths Avenue made.

I shook my head, looking down at my plate and playing with a stray carrot with my fork.

Trey looked over at me, frowning. "What, don't you like it? I mean, it is my first try and I-" I tried to cut him off as politely as I could.

"No!" I shouted at an unintentionally loud volume. His brows furrowed.

I cleared my throat, lowering my voice. "No. Not at all. This.. this is the most amazing chicken pot pie I've tasted, to be honest. I just can't believe you made it for me. I've never.." I trailed off.

"He never cooked for you like this, did he?" Trey asked. I swear I could hear a sense of mock in his tone.

I stared at him, racking my brains for an excuse, something to objectify his assumption.

But then I realised it wasn't an assumption. I was the raw truth. I just never heard it out loud before. It sounded alien.

"You're looking for a way to defend him now, aren't you?"

I frowned, jabbing the carrot ferociously with my silverware.

"And now you're getting angry because you know I'm right, aren't you?" I hadn't noticed how small the gap between us was, and I also hadn't noticed Trey inching closer and closer to me with every statement he made. By now, he was about a forearm away from me, and my heart was jumping.

"You're own husband, the one who's supposed to love you, " closer.. "Cherish you," closer.. "Hold you at night," closer.. "Make love to you."

I swallowed the lump slowly forming in my oesophagus, thick and sticky. I felt his breath tickle my ear lobe.

"If you were mine, Rie-"

"But I'm not." I interjected.

I felt a flush of warm air blow past my cheek as he chuckled. "If you were really mine, I would do everything I could to keep you happy. To keep you with me..." He paused, his breath trickling down the back of my neck like a phantom leak. I shivered, wishing that the island wasn't built into the wall. I was cornered. But at same time a small part of me was thankful.

Trey lifted his arms so they rested on either side of the wall beside me. I tilted my head so I could see his face. His brown eyes were level with mine

And surprise surprise, he was doing the unreadable emotion thing. Fuck.

"Trey.." I merely whispered. It was like a small mewl from a kitten.

"Anything. I would do anything, Rie. Shit, I'd make love to you every damn day. Senseless. Raw. Just you and me. Everywhere. Anytime you want it, Rie. If you were mine.."

I was practically breathing dry air. My heart was going haywire, and there was this weird tingling sensation all over my body. And I mean, all over.

"But I'm not.." I just managed to choke out dismissively.

Trey, to my shock, broke into a smirk, and a laugh drifted from his lips. His arm muscles flexed as he balled his fists against the wall. "That's right," his chocolate eyes peered down at my lips, and examined every inch of my face for a few breath-taking seconds. "You're not mine."

And just with that sentence, he drew his arms away, and carried our plates to the sink.

And finally I was able to breathe again.

~~~

MIA again Shezza? Tut tut. But what matters is I've uploaded now, right? Good. Now gimme feedback, lovelies!

- S✌