EZEKIEL

"Wait--" she whirled around to face me, "--you have a beach house here too?"

"Yes. The one your father owns is nearby too."

"That's why this beach looks familiar." She murmured, glancing around.

Rome is a beautiful city and so are its beaches and growing up I was really fascinated with it so once we were rich enough, Dad bought us a beach house here with some help from Uncle.

"Let's go." I placed my palm on her lower back to guide her forward.

The wind made her hair blow gently, causing it to tickle my chest and a warm, sweet smell wafted up to my nose.

Not able to help, I leaned down and sniffed her hair softly, filling my lungs with that mouthwatering smell, something like vanilla and coconut.

Her head jerked back and I straightened immediately as her eyes narrowed at me. "Did you just sniff me?"

"Why would I do that?" I feigned innocence.

"I just heard you sniff." She pointed out.

"There you go, flattering yourself again. I was smelling the sea, not you."

She huffed and looked away, continuing to walk along the sea.

Phew.

We soon reached our beach house which I had made sure was already cleaned and stocked with everything we might need.

I felt relieved seeing the look of satisfaction on her face when we entered inside. At least she likes it.

Seeing her happy and satisfied with everything I give her makes me feel relieved and contented.

Now that she is my wife, I have this primal urge to provide for her.

I like having her dependent on me. It's not like I disapprove of her becoming independent. She will be starting college soon and if she goes on to do a job she will become independent but still I want to provide for her. Buy her things.

I shook away those thoughts and focused on her as she explored the house.

"Since we are in Italy, there is no way you are going to refuse to have pizza for dinner or else I will..." She paused, contemplating how to threaten me.

Tapping her chin with her finger, she looked around until her eyes fell on the sea, beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. "...drown you."

Standing there in a floral summer dress and her hair down, she looked like the most innocent little girl which made the threat all the more amusing.

I walked closer to her. "I would love to see you try, wifey." I challenged with a small smirk.

She planted her hands on her hips and tilted her head. "Don't underestimate me."

I took slow, deliberate steps towards her until our chests almost brushed when she attempted to move back, I placed my arm around her waist, stopping her.

"Keeping all those stereotypical reasons aside, I would say, I am physically stronger than you."

My voice turned low as I leaned down, my breath falling over her ear. "And you are stuck here with me with no one to hear you scream so I would say, be very careful, wife."

I felt her shiver slightly before she shoved me away, her cheeks flushed.

Without any other word, she took off toward the kitchen and I followed her.

She halted when she noticed the large pizza box lying on the kitchen island.

I leaned against the entrance and watched as she opened the box, her eyes twinkling when she saw her favourite pizza.

Surprised, she glanced at me.

"What?" I shrugged. "We are in Italy."

Her features softened, her lips spreading into a warm smile. For me. Her smile always manages to catch me off guard.

And this time, my heart jolted against my chest. As she turned her back to me, I rubbed my knuckles over my heart. Something's definitely wrong with me.

She grabbed the box and pulled it to her and sprinkled the oregano and chilli flakes before pulling out a huge slice.

I took a seat beside her and took a slice myself. I guess it's okay to eat unhealthy once in a while.

A soft moan escaped her mouth as she took the first bite of the pizza and my jaw clenched.

I ate quietly, ignoring how she moaned and hummed in satisfaction at every other bite.

"So..." She said, finishing the first slice "When's that event that you have to attend?"

I faced her, placing my elbow on the table and resting my cheek on my fist. "That we have to attend." I corrected her. "And it's the day after tomorrow."

She grabbed another slice. "And what will I wear?"

"I have already chosen a dress for you. It will arrive tomorrow."

"What if I don't like it?" She took a huge bite of the pizza and chewed it animatedly.

I was about to answer when my eyes fell on the corner of her mouth where some sauce was left behind.

Without giving it a second thought, I leaned closer and wiped that sauce away with my thumb.

She froze, her eyes widening and she swallowed hard as I sucked my thumb clean, our eyes locked together.

I cleared my throat and said, completely ignoring what I just did, "The dress will arrive tomorrow so in case you don't like it, we can get it changed. But as far as I know, you will like it."

She blinked twice before looking away. "Right. Thanks."

We have been married for only a day or so and she is already messing with my mind. This is ridiculous. I need to have control over myself before I do anything stupid.

Plus, I don't want to scare her. I promised her that I won't force her to do anything she doesn't like and I intend to keep that promise.

Not that I want to be intimate with her.

I surely will enjoy teasing her about that indirectly and watch her turn red but it won't be happening any time soon.

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Someone poked my cheek.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

Then a whisper in my ear, "Eeel?"

I grunted in response and rolled away from her.

I felt her lean on my body and shake my shoulder. "Wake up. It's important."

I half opened my eyes and looked at the electric clock on the nightstand. 23:59.

We just went to bed an hour back. What could be so important now?

"Go back to sleep, Chiara," I mumbled, closing my eyes again.

"Come on, wake up. Just for ten minutes. It's really important."

"Did you see any ghosts? Or hear some noises? Or someone broke in? Is the house on fire? If one of these things happened then only I will wake up."

She pressed her cheek against my bicep. "No, stupid. If there were really any ghosts, I wouldn't be waking you up so nicely."

Maybe I enjoyed the feel of her body half sprawled upon mine, that would only explain why I was not pushing her away.

"Then go to sleep. We will talk in the morning, I am really tired."

Her weight disappeared from over me and I thought that she had finally given up but a moment later, I felt some pressure on my eyes as she pried them open forcefully.

Her face came into view and she pouted and gave me her puppy eyes. "Please?"

I sighed, giving up.

She grinned when I finally got up and she grabbed my hand. "Now, come with me."

I followed her out of the room and down the stairs and she took me to the kitchen.

My eyes narrowed when I saw the mess on the countertop. I clearly remember leaving the kitchen crystal clean then how did this happen?

"Don't look at that." She stepped in front of me, trying to block the view.

"Anyway..." She picked up a plate from the dining table, on which was a small, vanilla cake. She smiled sheepishly. "Happy Birthday, Ezekiel."

Wait. What? It's my birthday?

I calculated the dates in my mind and realised that these few days were so hectic that my birthday completely escaped my mind.

But she remembered.

And she made me a cake.

And she doesn't know how to cook yet she tried.

Overwhelmed with all these emotions, I didn't know what to say or do. My throat felt too tight.

Mom used to bake me a cake on my birthday every year. Ever since she passed away, Dad did celebrate my birthday but since he wasn't that good at cooking, he never baked me a cake. I am not complaining about that, he showered me with lots of love and care regardless.

But for the first time in eighteen years, someone baked me a cake. Not someone. My wife.

"You...remembered?" I managed to speak past all the emotions clogging my throat.

"Why would I not?" She looked offended. "I have known you for so long, how can I not remember your birthday? Besides aren't we married now? I would look like a bad wife if I don't even remember your birthday."

My hands itched to pull her close and embrace her but I folded them into fists instead. "Thank you," I said softly, genuinely.

Her emerald eyes shone happily and she placed the cake on the table and handed me a fork. "This is my first time baking, I tried my best, I swear. And I didn't find any cocoa powder so I made a vanilla cake instead."

"It's okay," I assured her and with the fork, took out a small portion of it.

She watched me curiously as I put it in my mouth.

I swear if she wasn't looking at me, I would have spit it out. It was too dry and doughy and was not sweet enough and had a somewhat bitter taste.

I resisted the urge to gag and swallowed it.

"How is it?" She asked hopefully.

I would rather shoot myself than tell her that it was bad. I nodded. "It's good."

"Really?" She tried to grab the fork. "Let me try."

I held the fork away from her. "Nope. I don't share my birthday cake with anyone so it's all mine."

"But I made that! Let me taste how it is."

"No. I told you it's good. I am going to eat it all but not right now."

Taking the plate, I went over to the refrigerator and placed it inside. "I will have it tomorrow or else I will get a sugar rush right now." I am going to throw it away tomorrow but she doesn't need to know that.

"But I wanna taste." She whined.

"No," I stated firmly and grabbed her by her elbow and dragged her out. "It's not healthy to eat sweet things before sleeping."

She rolled her eyes. "You just turned twenty-eight and you are already acting like you are forty or something."

I let her call me grumpy and whatnot and dragged her to the bedroom where I ordered her to go to sleep.

As we both settled down, I lay awake and waited for her to fall asleep, making sure she didn't get up and try to eat the cake or else she will be heartbroken.

It was only when I heard her snore softly, I closed my eyes and went to sleep with a warmth-filled heart.