Chapter 14 Chapter 14: Trying to Make Up
Catherine’s P.O.V
I woke up to a strange light seeping through the curtains, and for a long moment, I didn’t even recognize where I was. The bed felt different, the pillows unfamiliar, the sheets tucked differently, and it took me a second to remember…this was the guest room.
My head throbbed a little, my body heavy, like it had been drained of every ounce of energy. And then it hit me. Last night. Everything. I had slept through it all as if I were dead.
Maybe my depression had finally claimed me for just a few hours, because I hadn’t only slept, I had slept past noon. Past noon. My chest tightened at the thought of how much of the day I had wasted, but at the same time, I couldn’t summon the strength to move. My body refused to cooperate. Every muscle in me was begging for rest, for just one more hour, one more minute, but I knew I couldn’t stay buried in the sheets forever. I had to start the day, had to face reality, had to… at least pretend to care.
“Ugh,” I groaned to myself, dragging my legs over the edge of the bed. My knees nearly buckled, and I gripped the bed frame like it was a lifeline.
“Come on, Cathy. Move. Just… move.”
My voice sounded hoarse, foreign even to my own ears. Slowly, painfully, I made my way to the bathroom, my reflection in the mirror making me flinch. My hair was wild, my eyes puffy, and yet, underneath it all, there was that familiar, nagging guilt. Xavier.
He was probably at the company already. He hated it when someone else made him breakfast, which meant… he probably hadn’t eaten anything at all. My stomach clenched. I should’ve woken up earlier. I should’ve…
And then it hit me…the smell. The rich, comforting scent of food, and the faint, warm smell of coffee drifting down the hall. My nose twitched, my mouth watered involuntarily.
“Wait… is that…?” I whispered to myself, more curious than cautious, as I shuffled toward the source. The kitchen doorway came into view, and there he was, Xavier, standing at the counter, flipping something in a pan, the steam curling around him, the sunlight catching the edges of his hair. He didn’t even notice me at first, completely engrossed in his task, humming quietly under his breath.
“Morning,” I said, my voice trembling slightly, trying to sound casual, though my stomach lurched with both guilt and relief.
He jumped slightly, turning around with a wide grin. “Cathy! You’re awake! Finally!” His tone was teasing, but there was something soft beneath it, something that made me ache inside. “I didn’t think you’d sleep this long.”
“I… yeah,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck, trying not to look too guilty. “I… I guess I needed it.”
“You needed it?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he set the spatula down. “You slept practically a whole day away. I was starting to think I’d have to roll you out of bed myself.”
I sighed, a little embarrassed, but unable to stop the faint smile creeping onto my face. “I… I just… I don’t know, Xavier. I felt… tired. More than usual.” My voice faltered, and I quickly changed the subject.
“But… this smells amazing. What is all this?”
He waved a hand toward the stove like it was nothing. “Just some eggs, toast, and your favorite…French press coffee. Thought you might need a proper breakfast today.” He tilted his head, eyes softening. “Besides, I couldn’t let you wake up to an empty kitchen and a cold house.”
My throat tightened. “You… didn’t have breakfast either, did you?”
He turned then, a soft smile spreading across his face, still in that casual tee and shorts that made him look like he just rolled out of bed.
“Xavier…” I started, but couldn’t find the right words. My heart was too full, my emotions too raw, and the way he looked at me, like I mattered more than anything else in the world, made me feel both guilty and comforted at the same time.
“Hey,” he said, taking a step toward me. His arms opened before I could think too much, and I found myself letting him hug me, though my mind was buzzing with questions.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he murmured into my hair, and I stiffened slightly, but didn’t pull away. “I… I just wanted to make it up to you.”
“I…what?” I asked, pulling back a little to look at him, my arms still loosely around him. “You made… all this? For me?”
He shrugged, a little sheepish, but his eyes never left mine. “Yeah. I figured… I figured you shouldn’t have to go through this morning feeling… I don’t know, left out, or upset, or whatever it was. So I stayed home. Made you food instead of going to work.”
I blinked at him, incredulous. “You didn’t go to work… for me?” My voice was small, almost disbelieving. “Xavier, why would you do that? You had meetings, right? Clients?”
He leaned against the counter, casual, but I could see the seriousness in his expression. “Yeah, I had meetings. But I thought… you know, you’d be here, and you’d wake up, and it might feel empty without me. I didn’t want you to feel alone.” His voice had that soft, almost hesitant edge that made my chest tighten.
I took a step closer, trying to process everything at once. “But… you didn’t even tell me you were staying home.”
“I know,” he said quickly, a little defensive, like he was trying to explain something without over-explaining.
“I thought… I thought if I just did it, you’d see I care. You wouldn’t have to think about what happened last night. I just… wanted you to feel taken care of, even if I messed up last night.”
I watched him then, really looked at him, the way he was standing there, casual but gentle, his hair a little messy, the faint smell of coffee and the bacon around him, and my heart twisted.
“Xavier…” I started, and he reached for my hand before I could even finish the thought.
“I made your favorite,” he said softly, like that explained everything, but I knew it didn’t, not really.
“I wanted you to be happy when you walked in. Even if last night was… bad. I wanted today to be better.”
I couldn’t help it…I let out a small laugh, partly in disbelief, partly because my chest felt too full.
“You really think food can fix last night?”
He shrugged again, that easy, almost infuriating shrug that somehow made me melt. “Maybe not fixed. But it’s a start. A small start. And I can try… more tomorrow and the next day. As many days as it takes.”
I stared at him, the warmth in his eyes softening the tension in my chest. “You’re ridiculous,” I muttered, but my lips twitched, and I let myself stay close. “But… Thank you. Really.”
“Anything for you,” he said, squeezing my hand before letting go and gesturing to the table.
“Come on. Eat before it gets cold. I even made the garlic bread extra crispy, just like you like it.”
I couldn’t help but smile fully this time, shaking my head in disbelief as I followed him to the table. “You’re impossible,” I whispered.
“And you love it,” he shot back immediately, grinning.
I rolled my eyes, but deep down, I knew he was right.
Xavier pulled out the chair for me, waiting for me to settle in. “Sit, Cathy. Eat whatever you want,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I’ll be right beside you.”
I hesitated for a moment, my fingers brushing against his as I sat down. “Are you sure… you don’t mind?” I asked quietly, not wanting to impose.
He gave me that familiar half-smile, the one that always made me feel like I could trust him with anything.
“Of course I don’t mind. Just… take your time. I’ve got all morning,” he said, lifting his mug of coffee in a mock toast.
I glanced down at the plate in front of me. It smelled incredible, and I knew better than to doubt Xavier in the kitchen. Slowly, I took my first bite, savoring it, letting my body adjust while my mind tried to clear the fog that had settled over me.
He just sat there, watching me, occasionally taking a small sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re eating slower than usual,” he remarked casually, though there was a softness underneath.
“I… I guess I’m just… I’m still… thinking,” I admitted, my fork hovering over the plate.
“That’s okay,” he said, leaning back slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in that little amused way. “No rush. I can wait.”
I ate a few more bites, each one grounding me a little more. Finally, I set down my fork and looked at him.
“Xavier, I…we need to talk. About everything. About what’s happened.”
He didn’t flinch. He just nodded, setting his coffee mug down and turning to face me fully. “Then talk. I’m listening,” he said softly, and in that moment, I felt a little of the weight on my chest lift, knowing he really meant it.