Read Online Three Loving Words by DC Renee - Free Book Online

hadn’t tried anything with me.  Crazy, right?  I was scared of the man for the same reason I was offended.  Insecurity would do that to a person.
    This guy asking me on a date had made my day.  I couldn’t help the silly grin I had plastered on my face all day.  I had to keep reminding myself that I was at work so I wouldn’t belt out some love song.  I was in such a good mood that when I cooked dinner for myself that night, I allowed myself to sing.  It was low just in case Enzo came home, but I sang anyway.  Big mistake.
    Something about me being happy always rubbed him the wrong way.  I desperately tried to wear an emotionless face around the house at all times, never knowing when I’d run into him.  The times when a smile would surface for whatever reason always ended in an argument.  A week before, I had been thinking about the fact that I realized I started calling everyone “darlin’” at work thanks to my co-worker rubbing off on me.  I hadn’t realized it so much until my boss laughed at me and said, “Well, all right there. darlin’.”
    “Oh, no!  Tami got to me,” I cried.
    “Don’t worry, she gets to everyone eventually.  Even I had a phase,” he whispered low.  “Don’t tell anyone, though.”
    I came home with a smile on my face and walked right into a hard chest.  Enzo was on his way out.  I jumped back quickly, but that seemed to piss him off more.
    “What’s so fucking funny, Paige?” The tone of his voice betrayed his calm exterior.
    “Nuh … nothing.”  I stuttered around him often.  When things got heated, my boldness came out, but it was always the beginning of a fight that had him leading and me following.  Suffice it to say, we said some nasty things back and forth, and he mumbled the phrase I had come to call the three loving words.  “I hate you,” used to have an effect on me, but the way Enzo spewed it like air now just made me sigh.
    This time, though, when I heard, “What the fuck are you doing?” I knew something was different.  I couldn’t really pinpoint the difference between the tone he used then and all the other times, but something made me flinch in a way I hadn’t before.
    “Cooking,” I responded, trying to keep my voice calm.
    “What the hell are you cooking?”
    “Chicken marsala with angel hair pasta,” I told him, not understanding why what I made mattered.
    “You cook?” he asked, a touch of astonishment clouded his anger.
    “Yes.”
    “Why have I never seen you cook?”
    “I don’t often cook since it’s just for me.”
    “So why are you cooking today?”
    “Just felt like it?” I answered more like a question than a response.
    “And you felt like fucking singing, too?”
    “I … uh … yeah?”  Again, it was more of a question. I didn’t understand his line of questioning or what in the heck I did to get him so upset.
    “Why the hell haven’t you cooked for me?  I’m your husband. Don’t you think I deserve a nice, home-cooked meal?”
    “I never thought of it.”  It was the truth.  I never even thought to cook for him, but now that he put the thought in my head, I didn’t think I ever really would have.  I didn’t like him; he didn’t like me. No, scratch that, he hated me. So why would I cook for him?
    “You better have enough for the both of us now then, little girl.  And stop your fucking singing,” he demanded.  Well, geez … I knew I didn’t have the best voice, but really?
    “I only bought enough ingredients to make myself dinner.”
    “Well, then I suggest you go out and get more.”  His tone was mocking and I didn’t like it.
    “No.”
    “No?”
    “No,” I stated again.
    “Are you really saying no to me?”
    “Like that would stop you,” I hissed.  He reeled back as if I had slapped him for a moment then he was in my face.  It seemed like every time he got truly mad, his next step was to get as close to me as possible.  I was pretty sure he was trying to intimidate