The Choice (a Painful Past)

195

After I got Mom to her bed, I walked back to the kitchen. When I saw Colby standing at the sink, with suds up to his elbows, I froze. There was just something so...normal in what he was doing. Like he did this all the time. Like WE did this all the time. "What are you doing?" I asked, hearing the confusion in my voice. 

It was very confusing to see Colby Brock in my kitchen, actually washing dishes. 

When he answered, he sounded just as confused as I was

"Um, helping? You don't have a dishwasher," he replied, meeting my gaze with his own. God, how were his eyes so damn intense? I licked my dry lips and cleared my throat. "Yeah, I do," I laughed, as I walked over to stand next to him. "It's right here." I held up both of my hands, indicating that I was the dishwasher and smiled at him. 

For just a moment, it seemed like his face went slack, as his eyes darted from my eyes, down to my lips, then back to my eyes. I didn't know what to do, so I looked away, nervously. It seemed like he felt the way I did, when I saw his smile or those intense ass eyes. 

But that was just stupid of me to think that...right? Yeah, that was stupid. 

"You don't have to do this, Colby. I can wash the dishes. Why don't you go hang out with Sam and Ben? I'll be in there in a few minutes," I said, as I rinsed the few dishes that he had already washed. 

"Nah, I'm good right here. I don't mind helping. Although, maybe I should rinse? I don't really wash dishes...haven't in a while," he replied, laughing a little. I rolled my eyes and bumped him with my hip. "Move, rich boy. You can rinse," I assented. 

He chuckled; a small, deep rumble coming from his lips that sent shivers down my spine. I looked away from him, down at the soapy water and cleared my throat. We both fell into a silent, comfortable routine. I washed a dish, then passed it to him, where he would rinse it and put it up. Normalcy. Only it felt anything but normal. 

"Sooo," I said, nervously. "When are you guys leaving? I know you told me already, but I forgot. I tend to do that a lot these days." "In a couple of days. Saturday, I think. We need to be back in LA by Monday, but we also need a day to get prepared for our meeting," he replied, never taking his eyes off of the soapy dishes in his side of the dual sink. 

"Oh. That's pretty soon," I murmured, as I placed another plate over to be rinsed. His hand brushed mine under the cool stream of water. The current turned warm, almost hot, sending electric shocks through my fingers. I gasped and jerked my hand back in surprise. 

It reminded me of when I was a kid and would shuffle my feet across the carpet, so that I could shock someone. Usually one of my nephews. That burst of electricity crackling through my skin to theirs. Only this thing between Colby and I didn't hurt. It was hot and sparking, but there was no sharp jolt of pain. It was intense. A feeling that I didn't really understand. 

He let out a heavy breath, and continued to rinse the dishes. Maybe he hadn't felt anything. Maybe it was all in my head, just because I was so lonely and being around him reminded me of how he use to adore me. Maybe I just missed someone, anyone, actually loving me. 

"You do this every night?" he asked, bringing me out of my daunting thoughts. "Do what?" I asked, furrowing my brow. "Wash dishes? Yeah, of course. I mean, who else is gonna do it? Ben helps sometimes, and Mom too, when she feels like it, but otherwise, yes. It's just part of the job."

"But...like your brother just left his plate on the table with food still on it. They don't even help you out by scraping it off and rinsing their plates. Why not? Why don't you tell them too?" he asked, looking over at me.

I sighed heavily and shook my head. "I have asked them to do that. Ben does, as you can see, but my brother never does. Charles will, but Jimmy...he's used to being babied I guess. Mom use to wait on him hand and foot, just because he went to work every day. She would make sure that he had breakfast, then she would cook lunch for him, and even make him a glass of tea. Then Mom got to where she couldn't really do those things, and even though he doesn't work anymore, it's like the responsibility of it got passed on to me."