Eliza went over to Oscar’s apartment, he sat on his couch with just a pair of pants and a t-shirt. Barefoot, he looked toward her walking into the apartment with a slight lift of his head.
“Come in the kitchen with me…” she cajoled.
They had always liked to cook together. Eliza got all of the things to make a ragu that he really liked so that he would only have to cut things up if he was not in the mood for more.
Ever since Cleo went to Paris, he had been sullen and unresponsive. Eliza had not suspected that he had been that in love with Cleo—she thought he was more invested in Sally if anyone. Especially since she knew that Sally was still around smelling after him…
Oscar cut an onion beside her, and his eyes did not tear up. Eliza’s face streamed with tears, between the onions and being so close to Oscar and not knowing what to do…
His shoulder grazed hers, and she burned from head to toe from the touch of him but she continued to cry and cut her onions. Then he grazed her again and she knew it was not an accident, but she continued to cut the onion like it was a meditation.
“Thank you,” Oscar said quietly, and she still did not say a thing because she did not know what she should say. She was there for him because she cared for him, but even if she cared for him…she was still stuck on what she should say to him.
“You know, I keep falling for the wrong women,” he said under his breath.
“I am not Cleo!” she snapped, and they looked at each other at the same time. She felt the steam release from her that she did not even know was there.
She was not Cleo, she did not understand what he liked about Cleo anyway. At that moment, when he said that, she became so enraged. Jealousy burst around her like balloons, and she looked at him helplessly.
Oscar stopped cutting the onion and held her. The scent of onion and tears filled her mouth.
More Wicked Wednesday here:
All different kinds of tears…
Rebel xox