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Page 10 of The Hand Surgeon's Housewife

I let out a breath and quickly finish up the breakfast. Plating the food, I bring it over to him, my hands trembling slightly.

"Bon appétit," I murmur, setting the plate down in front of Hugo. I squirm, murmuring, "I'm not that good of a cook so I won’t blame you if you spit it back out,,” I say as I grab a cup of tea for myself.

”You can learn," Hugo says as he digs into the food. ”There are cooking classes you can take.”

I shrug, unsure how to respond. "I've been thinking about getting work at a record store..." I begin, but Hugo stops eating and looks up, wiping his mouth.

”That’s not what I had in mind. I want you to be home. Be here when I go away for work and be here when I get back."

I swallow hard. "You want a housewife?"

Hugo nods, his gaze steady. "Yeah."

"I don't know if I can live up to that," I murmur, turning to wash my cup in the sink.

"I don't need much," Hugo says, leaning back in his chair. "Just make this place feel like a home. That's all I ask.”

”And babies?” I pant.

”They’ll come when you’re ready,” Hugo rasps and my throat snares.

”How many do you want?”

”As many as you let me produce.”

My heart pounds as I bite my lip, my back still turned to him. "But what if I disappoint you?" I say, my voice trembling. What if my body can’t keep up with the demands? ”We both know I've already failed in my wifely duties."

The chair screeches when Hugo rises. "Don't say that," he rasps. "You're my wife, and my wife makes no mistakes. She's immaculate from the inside out." He lets out a strange laugh, followed by a curse. "Just being around you makes me want to reach inside and scrub myself clean."

I whirl around, our eyes locking. "With what?" I ask, a small smile tugging at my lips.

"Stain remover," he replies, something flickering in his eyes.

"I see no stains when I look at you," I whisper.

"No," Hugo agrees, the flicker in his eyes intensifying. "You only see what I want you to see."

"What's that?" I whisper, my voice barely audible.

"Something perfectly acceptable," he replies, his tone unwavering. "I have to go to work, but why don't you spend the rest of the day planning our honeymoon? That should be fun.”

My jaw slacks in surprise. "I didn't think there'd be one."

Hugo's eyes darken, his expression serious. ”I’m not going to deny you a once in a lifetime experience.” He shakes his head, a hint of disappointment in his gaze. ”Besides, you can have whatever you want, just say the word."

He walks out of the kitchen, and a sudden longing overwhelms me. It tears at me, a powerful wave of emotion that leaves me dizzy. My chest tightens, and my heart pounds so loudly I can hear it in my ears. I watch him go, feeling an ache I can't quite understand. It’s as if I’m slowly dying. It’s not just physical, but something deeper, like a cord pulling me towards him.

Taking a couple of stumbling steps, I tell myself he’ll be back before I know it. And I’m already counting the minutes.

***

Hugo's been away at work all day, and I'm still trying to get used to the house. Exactly how do you make a place feel like a home? I wouldn’t know. Never made one. Raymond’s the one who used to decide everything. And this place feels huge. Is huge. And a little bit cold. I wander through the rooms, thinking about what I could do to make this place feel more like a home. Artwork, perhaps, but I don't know what would make Hugo happy. I love bright colors, but I have a feeling that Hugo doesn't.

Sighting to myself, I walk into his bedroom to make his bed, because he didn’t bother to make it this morning or maybe he’s just a little sloppy like that. A smile tugs at my lips. He’s so orderly otherwise and this makes him seem a little more normal. My hands slide over his sheets, smoothing out the wrinkles, the fabric cool and crisp beneath my fingertips.

His pillows are firm, with a faint scent that is distinctly his. I linger there for a moment, inhaling deeply and the comfort that rushes over me is immediate. I should probably take his scent to the lab and have it formulated into some kind of spray, I can just spray around whenever I need to get grounded.

I never felt that way about Raymond’s smell. And I remember once more what Hugo’s done for me. I don’t think he truly understands who he saved me from, but if Hugo hadn’t been there that night…I shudder, trying to put the past behind.




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