Maid for Him.

Chapter Five

She'd chosen the mug because it was the only one of its kind, not part of a set. It was pink and said unicorns exist on it and there was a picture of a cartoon unicorn with big sad eyes, surrounded by hearts. It had seemed so out of place here, just like her. Hopefully, she'd find it tomorrow, at least she hoped she would. The last thing she needed was a mug of milk festering away in a corner somewhere. Even though she only had a couple of weeks of her pregnancy left, she still got queasy around weird smells.

She rushed, to the best of her ability, back to the kitchen where the milk was boiling, half an inch from the rim of the saucepan. Diving for it, she turned the gas down, before she had to add overflowing milk to her list of disasters today. She grabbed the canister of chocolate and reached for a replacement mug from the cupboard above the sink. She stopped, her hand frozen in midair. There, sitting proudly amongst the other boring, white mugs, was the unicorn mug in all its sparkly, pink glory.

What the hell was going on? She let her fingers rest on the handle and squeezed her eyes shut, tracing her movements in her mind. I sipped the chocolate, there was a knock on the door, I placed the mug on the... on the... hmm, maybe I wasn't holding it when the maid arrived. No, I was, I know it.

Picking up the mug she ran her finger around the inside. It was still damp. This was her mug. She placed it on the counter and spooned some chocolate and sugar into it. The entire time her mind whirled, trying to regain her equilibrium. Absently, she poured in the milk, stirred it, licked the spoon and dragged her feet back to the living room, taking a handful of cookies and her hot milk with her.

GG's smiling face stared back from the screen as she settled down on the couch. "The concept is to swing the swords and chop away at the ends of the hair," Tess heard her say.

"Oh God, not the swords again." She muttered to herself and bit into a cookie.

Marnie was right, the cookies were delicious and seeing as she didn't need to worry about getting fat, she intended on eating the entire basket.

Once Fashion Cops was over, Tess stood and switched off the television. She made her way back to the kitchen, this time, she was sure she was holding the coffee mug. She rinsed it and placed it upside down on the sink to drip dry. Her eyes heavy, she switched off the light, then again, there came a tapping on the front door. Switching the light back on, her skin prickled. She waited, frozen in the middle of her kitchen when she heard the tapping again.

Pushing her back to the wall she slid her way along it to the front door. She was unsure why, but she was frightened and didn't want anyone sneaking up behind her.

"Who is it?" She called.

"It's me. Cole." Came the gruff voice on the other side of the door.

Tess let out a long, slow breath and slid the lock back and swung the door open.

"What do you want Cole?"

Cole stared at her for a moment. "Are you alright? You look... I don't know, strange."

"I'm fine, just tired. So, what's up?"

He handed her a bag. "These are mine, I thought they might come in handy."

She peeked in the top of the bag. "Clothes?"

"You know, just some nice comfy pajamas and oversized shirts and stuff." Color rose in his cheeks. "Not that I'm saying you need oversized shirts, but you were saying earlier that nothing fits and I just—"

"That's okay Cole, it's very sweet of you."

They stood awkwardly at the door for a moment. Crickets chirped and the cool night air whipped through the rose bushes surrounding the guest house. The scented breeze continued its journey, depositing the perfumed aroma between her and Cole.

She glanced up at Cole, risking just a small glance.

He stared back.

An array of emotions crossed his face. She was unable to decipher any of them.

Finally, Cole broke the silence. "Well okay then." His voice was husky like when she'd just roused him from sleep. "I guess that's all I came for. Goodnight, Tess."

For the briefest of seconds, she forgot to answer. She was swept up in the closeness of him. In remembering when he would come to her room late at night and sneak out before the first glimpse of morning night. When neither of them wanted to let go of the other. And every moment they spent apart felt like a lifetime.

"Goodnight, Cole."

When he made no effort to move, she slowly shut the door but stopped before she lost sight of him peering back.

"Thanks again," she said in a whisper so soft, she was unsure if he would have heard.

She clicked the door closed and switched off all the lights. Leaning with her back against the door she let out a heavy sigh. Trying to hate Cole was proving harder than she'd anticipated. How could she feel this way about someone who treated her so badly? And how could he walk around like he had no guilt nor conscience at all?

Back in the bedroom, she slipped on Cole's satin pajamas with the monogrammed CW on the breast pocket.

She stretched the collar of the shirt out and leaned in to sniff the freshly laundered pajamas. They didn't smell like him. Just of detergent. A pang of disappointment landed firmly in her stomach. What sort of freak went around sniffing their ex-boyfriend's clothes anyway? She needed to snap out of it. And fast.

But as weird as it seemed, for some reason seeing Cole made her feel better, maybe because she was thinking about him in that suit and not about disappearing unicorn coffee mugs. Or maybe because it was comforting to know he was thinking about her too and looking out for her. She snuggled down in the huge bed and fell instantly to sleep with dreams of him free to invade her subconscious, allowing her to be with him without any guilt or doubt.