Six Simple Steps/C13 Thirteen: The first step
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Six Simple Steps/C13 Thirteen: The first step
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C13 Thirteen: The first step

I don't think I can do this.

I hadn’t objected when Kian had decided I show him the first step because, well, I thought I could do this, thought I could show him, but now that we are here, and all the materials needed are available, I don’t think I can do this.

And it’s because I’m scared. I’m scared that Kian won’t approve of my first step and would immediately send me packing. I’m scared that my cooking skills won’t be marvelous enough to woo him into letting me stay longer. I’m so afraid, my hand is shaking, and the cutlery keeps falling.

“Farrah baby are you okay?”, Kian asks, eyeing me.

Lord, I wish I am. I give him a shaky nod, reaching for the cutlery again. Lord Farrah, stop being such a wuss.

“If that’s true, then why are you shaking?”, Kian asks again.

“I’m fine really”.

His features softened. “You don’t have to lie to me Farrah. It’s okay if you don’t want to do this today. We can try it some other time”.

“I don’t have some other time Kian. Tomorrow is the last day of this week, and next week marks the beginning of the second week. It’s much easier if I do this now”.

But I can’t seem to concentrate. Lord have mercy. I’m not good at this. Why, just why did I have to be at the alley that night?

“Baby”, he drawled out. “You don’t get this. You have been shaking like you’re fucking traumatized and I’m worried. Mind telling me what’s up?”.

And let him know about my fears and insecurities. No thank you.

“Nothing’s up”, I tell him. “I’m totally fine”.

“Baby, I need you, to be honest with me. How can I help you if you’re always keeping things bottled up?”.

“Some things are better left unsaid”.

“Tell me the truth Farrah. What’s bothering you?”.

Tons.

“I’m scared”, I admit. “I’m scared my cooking won’t turn out so great and…and you will divorce me just because I was so pitiful at the first step”.

“Your thinking faculty needs to upgrade”.

I glare at him.

“What? Why would you think something as dumb as that?”.

“My thoughts are not dumb”.

“They are. Now answer me this, have I ever fought with you just because you have never cooked for me”.

“No. But people change Kian”.

“Well I haven’t. So you see, it’s okay to be scared on your first try, but you need to be brave darling. I can’t have you becoming a chicken like my cousin”.

I laugh, and he smiles. “Thank you,” I tell him.

:” No problem. Now are you ready to dazzle me with your cooking skills or are we just going to go upstairs and call it a night?”.

I shake my head, picking up the spoon again.

“Cooking it is!”. Kian announced and I laugh again, amazed at how funny he’s being.

I would have opted for jollof rice but it’s at night, so I decided to fry some meat and prepare the peppery sauce with onions to go along with it. I washed the gizzard, spiced it up, and put it on fire.

“Baby, are you sure there’s nothing I can help you with?”>

“No Kian. I’ve got everything under control”, I reply, scanning the kitchen with my eyes. “Oh, there is something you could help me with”. I say, carrying over to him a chopping board, a knife, and two fat onions. Kian eyes them warily as I dropped them on the work table before him.

“Here. You can help me with that. I’ve peeled it and washed it. All you have to do is cut it”.

“Why onions?”.

“Um, because I am tired of bawling my eyes out?”.

“Onions make you cry? Then I must teach it a lesson”, Kian said too seriously, I laughed at how dramatic he was being.

I leave Kian to go pound peppers. I do it subtly to not get any in my eye. I check up on my gizzard. It’s nearly done. Then I decided to see how Kian is faring with the onions.

I nearly cry when I see the onions chopped up horribly. I quickly seized the knife from him, and Kian looks at me.

“I didn’t cut them well did I?”.

“No, but it’s totally fine. I’ll use it like that”.

Kian might be good at making love to a woman’s body, and making millions of dollars in a week, but chopping up onions is not just his forte.

I put it away, before putting a pan of oil on the fire. I wait for it to heat, talking to Kian to pass the time.

“If I’m going to be cooking for you, I need to know your favorite dishes so I know what just to prepare”.

“You know I don’t eat much Farrah”.

“I still want to know”.

“I like pancakes. There’s just something about it that satisfies me. I wouldn’t mind an omelet or a bacon. Add steak to that list”.

“That’s all?”.

He nods.

“My Lord, you haven’t lived. You’re rich and that’s all you eat? Impossible. That has to change now that I am here”.

Kian leans in with a small smile on his lips. “Does that mean you will stay? I mean you can’t expect to change things and not be here”.

I scowl. “You can’t force me to stay”.

He leans back, hands held up in defense. “You’re the one who wanted to change things?”. He dropped his hands and leaned in again. “I don’t mind the change Farrah, as long as you’ll be right here with me”.

“You’re not supposed to be sweet to me”.

“And how exactly am I supposed to be?”

“Not sweet! You being sweet is making it kind of hard to stick to the rules of the contract”.

He smirked. “I didn’t know you were planning on sticking to the rules”.

I glared at him. The kitchen had become unbearably hot and that’s when I realize the oil is overheating. I jump down from the stool and seize the plate of gizzard and frying spoon. Using the frying spoon, I heap a gizzard into the sizzling pan. The oil picks up and splashes. Startled I jump back and Kian is before me. Covering me with his huge frame, so the oil doesn’t splash on me.

“You didn’t have to do that”. I tell him after the oil has calmed.

“I must keep you safe Farrah”.

“Whatever. Now, if you kindly excuse me, I want to keep frying my meat”.

“And let oil, hot oil to be precise splash on you? No Farrah, let me do the frying”.

“Kian”, I whined but he didn’t budge. Giving up, I handed him the frying spoon and plate and showed him how to do it.

I plopped my arse down on the stool and watched him fry the meat. The cords in his arm flexed as he heaped the rest of the meat into the pan. If I didn’t know may better, I would say he’s a pro at frying. He didn’t even flinch when the oil splashed on him. He put away the plate and frying spoon when he was done and came to me. He leaned against the work table, staring down at me.

“So did I do well?”.

“Yeah but I feel awful. Hot oil splashed on you because of me”.

He cupped my cheeks. “Don’t blame yourself. I chose to do it remember?”.

“Still”.

“Drop it. So what happens now?”.

“We’ll wait until the meat is fried, then I’ll turn it with the sauce I’ve prepared. That’s practically all of it”.

“Okay then”.

We wait a while, and when the meat is done frying, Kian scooped it out, and I turned the sauce. He said he wants to eat in the kitchen, so I served him in the kitchen. I stand by waiting for him to taste it. He shoes a forkful of meat into his mouth and chewed. He swallowed.

“So? Is it good?”.

“It’s perfect”.

But I don’t believe it. “You don’t have to lie to me simply because you don’t want to see tears in my eyes”.

“I’m not lying Farrah. Here, taste it yourself”.

I do and it turns out amazing. I cocked my head at him. “Do you approve?”.

“Hmm?”.

“My first step. Do you approve?”.

“Do you even have to ask?”, he says and reached for another meat.

….

*Dear Kian,

* Please don’t hate me for leaving. I would have loved to stay and force you to try out new dishes but…*

I shook my head. That doesn’t sound right. I squeeze the piece of paper and reach for another one. I can’t believe I’m awake by midnight just writing goodbyes, don’t hate me letters to Kian. I look at his outstretched form on his bed. His hair needs a trim, and I love how content he looks in his sleep. I start writing again. When I’m satisfied with the contents of the letter, I fold it and leave it on the dresser.

Turning on my heel, I wheel my suitcases out.

It’s a wonder the guards let me out of the house without asking questions. I slip into the passenger seat of the parked Lamborghini that was waiting outside after my things had been put in the boot.

“Thanks, Tuck”.

“You’re welcome. So where to?”.

“Drive around in circles, then take me to my mother”.

“My lord Farrah, what are you doing here this late?”.

“Shush mother. You might wake up the neighbors”.

“Where’s the Lewry?”, she asked as she tried to peek outside. I slammed the door shut. “I came alone and won’t be going back anytime soon, " I say and sit on the couch.

“Farrah dear, why do you say that?”.

Her motherly tone, made me burst into tears. “I left him, mother”.

She patted me on my shoulder. “Oh Farrah, this is so unlike you. Tell me, what’s bothering you?”.

I couldn’t hold it any longer.

“Mother, I’m pregnant, and Kian isn’t responsible”.

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