“Mmm, I like a dirty chef.” He teases me licking my fingertips.
Pushing him away we both get out of the bed going our separate ways. “I promise to wash my hands.” I wave at him as he slips inside the bathroom chuckling.
Starting the uber expensive coffee maker I lay out my baking supplies. I wanted to cook Milo something nice that reminded him of home while we waited for things to calm down and we got the clearance to travel. Why did I have to get married to most perfect man on the planet. Rhetorical questions aside, Milo was the epitome of wonderful and now we were together for eternity. You would think I would have been in a better mood but reality hit me this morning like a ton of bricks when I sort through some of the things his mom forwarded to me including recipe cards writing in a mishmash of French Canadian and Georgian.
The doorbell rings stopping me in mid grab for the cheese in the fridge. “I’ll get it!” Milo was probably still in the shower anyway and I tottered over to the door opening it. “Good Morn…ing?” I take in the woman standing on the doorstep my jaw gapping.
“Hello? Are you the housekeeper?” She brushes past me with a lilting English accent that only makes her prettier than her smooth skin face and upswept red hair. Freckles dot her nose while she looks me up and down with her clear green eyes.
“No. Not the housekeeper.” I say stepping back to shut the front door. I look out into the street and find a car on the curb that drives away.
“Coffee. Delightful.” She has no problem pouring herself a cup as if she knows where everything is and my gut clenches unhappily.
“Where’s Milo?” She asks sitting at the bar top counter sipping my coffee and paging through Milo’s newspaper.
“He’s in the shower.” I stand across from her observing her like an insect wondering if I need to spray or swat her before she bites.
“Who are you again?” I ask realizing this strange woman has just walked into the home I’m sharing with my husband of just a few weeks. It’s surreal and I’m not sure what to do.
“I’m Mariska Malcolm. Milo and I were lovers and I’ve come to help him out of his predicament.” She smiled holding out her coffee mug for more. I steal my breath pouring it for her faking cordially I don’t feel for a woman I don’t know who basically said she’s boned my husband. Right. My. Fucking. Husband.
“Predicament.” I say making small talk.
“Yes, marriage. Temporary, but still much better than him getting deported and loosing years of research at the hospital.”
“Uh huh.”
“So are you going to make him breakfast or something. I’ll have whatever he’s having. I can hire a chef later.”
“Yeah, breakfast sure because as his wife that’s I’m doing.”
“Oh honey, I’m sure you’ll find someone.” She says condescendingly eyeballing my morning outfit. I think about Milo’s thick cum still inside me held deep by my panties and I squeeze my thighs together. Yeah, I found someone alright and I wasn’t giving him up to this stuffy pretentious woman. He’s so mine and this stuffy wench can’t have him.
“Well, I’d say your about three weeks too late. Oh Milo, honey… we have a guest.” I shout toward the direction of the bedroom. I can’t believe this is happening. Milo pops around the corner wearing nothing but a towel around his leans hips I had had my legs wrapped around moments earlier. He runs a smaller towel through his hair and my heart pinches. I look over to see this woman watching him as well, she licks her lips and I want to stab her with the spoon I’m stirring in my coffee cup. I put the spoon in the sink so I don’t commit a felony this early before my second cup.
“Hello darling!” Mariska jumps off the stool and hugs him tight. I can smell her perfume and it makes me sick thinking he might smell like that for the rest of the day.
“Oh shit.” Milo says looking between us and oh shit is right.
“Milo, I think you know Mariska, but I’m a little out of the loop. She wasn’t invited to our wedding.” I announce flashing my ring in her face for good measure. Her expression doesn’t change and I wait for Milo to correct her.
He’s taking too long. I wish I had the spoon in my hand still because he would be the target of my ire after this.
“Mariska is…”
“Apparently I am out of the loop as well.” She steps back from Milo looking him over and looking at me wearing a t-shirt from his drawer with my panties. I’m confident in my lean body but she made me feel unworthy in a way I didn’t have words to describe as she stood there in her expensive clothes, leather satchel, and perfect makeup this hour of the morning.
“Didn’t my mother tell you?” He put space between us standing next to me, his arm slowly slipping around my waist feeling more like a snake instead of a comfort in the moment.
“She said you were having trouble with your immigration visa. I came to help.” Her smooth words made it sound like I tried chasing her out of the house like a crazy person.
Milo kissed the top of my head squeezing my rigid body before speaking again. “I guess mom forgot to mention I’m married. I’ve got a lawyer, but thanks for coming out here.”
“Anything for you Milo. Always.”
“And what does your friend do, honey?” I ask Milo wondering how much longer we have to put up with this woman stinking up the kitchen with her snooty skank ass.
“She’s a lawyer.” As if that was the only explanation my husband could think of to give me. I turn in his arms to look at him. His square jaw relaxed and his warm body suddenly suffocating me. Pissed would be an understatement. I push him away to give myself moment to breathe.