Marrying a Boxer | H.S.

Chapter 51

I add the chopped asparagus, carrots, and cherry tomatoes into the pot and stir so that they mix along with the chicken and penne pasta. Harry had to train all day, since he has a big match coming up, and I decided to surprise him by cooking a Garlic Chicken Primavera recipe I saw on the internet. I haven't cooked for him for the longest time. The times I cooked for him were back when our marriage was heading straight to the abyss, and I don't think he ever ate anything I made.

Almost a year ago I had absolutely no idea about cooking. I would burn water. But since I married Harry, I've learned to cook so many dishes thanks to Maura. Since I would rarely get out of the house, I needed to find something to do with my time. Maura taught me how to cook, how to get the freshest vegetables at the supermarket, and she's even taught me how to knit. Learning such basic life skills has helped me feel a lot better about myself. It's made me feel like I'm not a useless blonde who spends her time shopping and going out for brunch with her friends. It's helped me feel like an actual adult. My mother never thought these things were important to learn. She would say, "that's what the help is for."

I set the table, placing two wine glasses in front of the two seats. The sound of the front door opening reaches my ears, a tiny wave of panic runs through me but is gone as fast as it came when I hear the voice of the man who owns my heart.

"Sweetheart, I'm home!" he calls from the foyer. I turn off the stove and remove the cupcake print apron I'm wearing.

"Hey, baby," I smile, approaching him. The corners of his mouth turn up, green eyes lighting up. His arms open and wrap around me. "How was your training?"

"Pretty good, Sweetheart." He places a kiss on my lips and I smile.

"I'm glad," I say, "I'll take this, honey." I remove his gym bag from his shoulder and set it on the floor by the door. "I have a little surprise for you." I take his hand and pull him toward the dining room, making him sit down, and serving him some wine.

"What's my surprise?" he asks with a smirk. I smile back at him but say nothing. Instead, I head to the kitchen and serve two plates of pasta.

I smile to myself as I start to see the finished dish. Every time I cook something, and it turns out good, a sense of pride overcomes me.

I hope he likes it.

Carefully, I walk back into the dining room and set a plate in front of him, kissing his cheek.

"Did you make this?" his eyes sparkle with excitement and he picks up his fork, digging into the food in front of him, and taking a bite.

I anxiously await for his reaction, silently praying that he likes the food.

His eyes close, his jawline becoming more prominent as he chews. A soft hum emanates from his throat, and once he swallows, his eyes open and he smiles. "Baby girl, this is delicious!" he praises.

My lips break into a smile and feel my cheeks flush. "Thank you, honey. I was hoping you would like it." I take a bite of my own plate and mentally pat myself in the back. I must say this dish came out exquisite for it to be the first time I cook it.

"I had no idea you could cook this good," he says, taking another forkful of pasta.

"Now you know that I make bomb dishes," I smile.

As we eat, I ask him about his training. He also told me he would like me to take some boxing lessons (taught by him, of course), in case I need to "fuck someone up".

"Babe, when's your match?" I ask as he helps me put away the porcelain plates and cutlery.

He thinks for a moment before saying, "in about a month. Will you come and see me? I know you don't like boxing, but I would love to have you there as support. Plus, you haven't been to another one of my matches after the one with Moore." His hands grip my hips and he turns me around to face him, backing me up against the counter.

I tilt my head to meet his eyes. "I will only be there if you get me the best seat in the arena," I whisper.

"Girl, come on. You know I already reserved your spot," he kisses the tip of my nose.

"Who are you fighting?"

"Some dude I haven't heard of. Carlos Ramirez, I think." I shrug and we head up the stairs and into the bedroom, continuing the conversation about his upcoming match, and googling the so-called Carlos.

"Babe, by the way," I say, "Marcus called me today and said his architect friend would love to take on our project. And he also said they found a piece of land where we can start building the centre."

"Sweetheart, that's great!" he exclaims, pulling me into a hug and kissing the top of my head. "So when will they start constructing?"

"Well, we have to create the blueprints first and think about what kind of facilities we will have and how much space for each. We also need to start looking for certified psychologists who would want to work there," I sigh, rubbing my temples as I realize it's not as simple as I had hoped and there are many things that I need to consider. "I really hope it all works out."

His arms tighten around me. I rest my head on his chest and take a deep breath, inhaling his scent. "It will, love. It'll be perfect," he says. "We must learn to walk before we can run, and this is just the start. Baby steps, lovely."

With a deep breath, I say, "you're right."

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A/N:

Ewwwww I'm so sorry this chapter is the worst, I had no idea what to write and this shitty ass chapter happened. I'm so sorry, I'm already working on the next one, and I'm trying to make it better for you, my babies.

Please don't hate me 😭

I love you all 💕

I'm so sorry 😩

~Amy 🧜🏼‍♀️