However, while preparing the meal, Rita accidentally knocked a bowl off the counter, shattering it into pieces. She sighed in frustration, feeling disappointed in herself for ruining the moment.
"Oh no, I broke the bowl. What a way to start our first day living together!"
Just as she was about to crouch down and clean up the mess, Jefferson intervened, concerned for her safety.
"You might hurt your hand on the broken pieces. Let me take care of it. You should go and rest."
Rita was taken aback by his consideration and care. She realized that despite their past misunderstandings, Jefferson genuinely wanted to protect and support her.
Later, Jefferson took charge of preparing the meal, showcasing his culinary skills.
After a while, the aroma filled the house, and Rita's senses were aroused.
As they sat down to eat, Rita couldn't help but feel touched by Jefferson's effort and skill in creating such a delicious meal.
"This meal is amazing, Jefferson. Thank you for cooking. I feel lucky to be married to someone who can cook like this."
"It's my pleasure, Rita. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I want to make this experience special for both of us." He grinned.
Rita's heart swelled with gratitude, appreciating Jefferson's thoughtfulness and willingness to make their time together memorable.
After the meal, Rita volunteered to take care of the dishes and housework, wanting to contribute to their new home in some way.
As she passed by the table, Jefferson's voice caught her attention.
"Rita, why don't you go ahead and take a shower? I'll take care of the cleaning up here."
Rita's heart skipped a beat, her mind racing with suspicions about Jefferson's intentions.
'What is he planning to do?'
Rita meticulously prepared herself in the shower, her mind briefly acknowledging the fact that the man before her, despite harboring doubts, was legally her husband.
She contemplated the possibility of engaging in intimate interactions with him, finding it somewhat permissible.
After spending thirty minutes cleansing herself and adorning her body with a delicate fragrance, Rita ventured out of the bathroom. However, as she passed by Jefferson, he didn't even lift his gaze.
A wave of unfamiliarity washed over Rita, but she chose to remain silent and retreated to the bedroom.
--
Rita lay rigid on the bed, her nerves frayed to their ends. The silence of the room was deafening, punctuated only by the occasional car passing by outside. She had been told that marriage would bring unexpected turns, but nothing had prepared her for the reality that the man she had blindly agreed to marry was now living with her.
Her eyes flickered to the door every so often, anticipating the moment Jefferson would enter the bedroom. The clock ticked on, each second stretching longer than the last. Finally, the door handle turned, and Jefferson stepped into the room.
He moved with an ease that contrasted sharply with the tension in Rita's body. Without a word, Jefferson slipped under the covers and turned his back to her. Rita held her breath, waiting for something, anything, to happen. But nothing did. Jefferson didn't touch her; he didn't even speak. The quiet was a balm, and Rita's taut muscles began to uncoil. Before she knew it, sleep had claimed her.
The morning light was gentle, a soft glow that filled the room with warmth. Rita stirred, feeling unusually refreshed until she realized the position she was in. Her arms were wrapped around Jefferson's neck, her body curled against his. Panic surged through her as she met Jefferson's open eyes.
"I—I'm sorry," she stammered, retracting her arms as if burned by the contact. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment; she had never imagined that she would be the one to harass Jefferson.
Jefferson's expression was unreadable. "It's fine," he said simply, his voice devoid of the warmth that the morning sun offered.
Rita scrambled out of bed, her movements awkward and rushed. "I didn't mean to—I never thought I would—"
"Rita," Jefferson cut her off, sitting up and fixing her with a look that silenced her rambling. "It's early. We should get ready for work."
"Yes, of course, work," Rita echoed, her mind still reeling from the unexpected intimacy of their entanglement.
Jefferson's gaze lingered on Rita, a mix of emotions swirling in his eyes, but he offered no response to her flustered apologies. The air hung heavy between them, filled with words left unsaid, until he finally broke the silence.
"Do you want to ride with me to the office?" Jefferson's voice was even, but there was an undercurrent that Rita couldn't quite place.
Rita, still caught in the embarrassment of the morning's intimacy, responded a bit too quickly. "No, thank you. I have... things to do before I go." She avoided his gaze, her words tumbling out in her haste.
Jefferson gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable, and left the house without another word.
In the car, Neo, Jefferson's assistant, focused on the road, while Jefferson sat in the back, lost in thought. The image of Rita sleeping so peacefully against him was a stark contrast to the fiery girl who had once humiliated him. What had changed her so much?
As the city passed by in a blur, Jefferson's hand brushed against something unexpected in his bag. Curious, he pulled out a neatly wrapped sandwich. A small note was tucked under the string: "Have a good day at work - R."
Jefferson's brow furrowed as he held the sandwich, a symbol of a domesticity he hadn't anticipated in their arrangement. He couldn't help but murmur to himself, "Why is she so different from the spicy girl I met three years ago?"
The question hung in the air, unanswered, as Jefferson took a contemplative bite of the sandwich, the flavors mingling with his thoughts. The simple act of kindness from Rita was a puzzle piece that didn't fit the image he held of her...