The Assassin's Wife

Chapter Two - The Men At The Door

Chapter Two - The Men At The Door

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"No, we won't be coming this weekend either," I told my mom. I had the phone pressed to my ear while I ate my macaroni and cheese. I sat on the white marble counter stuffing my face with the cheesiest goodness known to humankind.

"What? But you haven't come in so long!" my mother complained. I could imagine her face scrunching up in disappointment.

"Mom, we came last week," I reminded her, as I took another bite.

"It's been seven days since I last saw my baby," my mother cried out.

"Oh? Are you talking about your daughter? Or my husband that you seem to love more than me?" I asked.

"What? Of course, I love you more than him," my mother said in an unconvincing tone. My mother loved Axel when I first introduced him to her. She saw him as the son she always wanted and treated him like he was the Queen of England, who she also adores very much.

Where does that leave me? Not first, that's where.

"Very convincing, Mom," I told her, as I hopped down from the counter with the empty bowl in my hand. I walked around it and placed my bowl in the sink, opening the faucet on it quickly before closing it.

"Wash it," I heard my mother ordered. I groaned into the phone before putting her on speaker and began to wash the silver bowl properly.

"Seriously, Blaire? You're almost thirty and you still put your dishes in the sink, expecting someone to wash it for you," she grumbled. "Don't tell me you make Axel clean after you."

"I'm only twenty-five and of course not!"

Yes, he did. But only sometimes!

"Yes, he does, doesn't he? You're dead to me," my mother said, and I could literally imagine her shaking her head. "What if one day he gets tired of your messiness and decides to leave you?"

"He'd leave for an hour and then come running back because he'll realize what a big mistake that was," I answered with the same reply I always use when my mother asked me this question, which was all the time when she wasn't gushing about Axel.

I looked at the sink and noticed that I didn't wash the fork. I looked at the phone and shrugged before clothing the dishwasher.

"Wash your fork," my mother scolded.

"Yes, ma'am."

⇼

After speaking to my mother and washing that damn fork, I went back upstairs and laid down on my bed. Axel was currently at the gym, his third home after here and his office. The man just loved to work out and show off his abs, reminding me that I don't even have one pack.

Show off.

"Do you want to come with?" Axel asked me while he tied his shoes. He wore his Gucci jogging sweatshirt and pants, his hair ruffled from the activities we did earlier. 

"No," I replied, and to further emphasize my point, I stuffed a handful of skittles into my mouth and moaned as it's fruity flavor invaded my taste senses. He shook his head and ruffled my hair, managing to not get his fingers stuck in my mane of curls.

I held the bag of skittles in my hand and watched him from the hallways that lead to the front door. He pressed me against the wall and kissed my lips once more. His hands trailed down my waist and gripped my hips, pulling me even closer to him. I almost dropped my skittles bag.