You Are My Destiny novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: Midnight Whitefish

"Me," I said. "Sorry. I didn't think anyone was up."

I turned back to the pot so he would see only my right side.

Phillip came into the kitchen with the slow, careful walk of a man who had once learned every room by touch.

He did not go to the lamp.

He went straight to the stove, as if he knew where I was without looking.

"That tune," he said.

"It's nothing. My mother used to hum it."

"I know it."

My spoon stopped in the broth.

"Everyone knows some song," I said.

"Not this one." He leaned a hip on the counter beside me. "What's in the pot?"

"Fish bones, onion, bay. Your grandfather asked for it."

"My grandfather has never asked for anything in his life. He orders."

"He asked nicely."

"Then you've worked a miracle."

I could feel him looking at the side of my face.

It was a different kind of looking than the kitchen at dinner, closer and slower.

"Taste it," I said, because I needed his eyes on the pot.

I held out the spoon.

He took it, and I felt the warmth of his hand beside mine.

He tasted the broth and closed his eyes for one second.

"Too much pepper," he said.

"It's not."

"It is. But I like it."

"You can't like something that's wrong."

"I've been blind," Phillip said mildly. "Everything seems right if it has a taste."

I looked up before I could stop myself.

His gray eyes were on mine, an arm's length away, steady and amused.

The lamp lit the side of his face, and I wanted to put my palm on it.

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