Page 35 of The Pakhan's Arranged Bride

So, once I’m dressed, I make my morning coffee in one of the stainless steel travel mugs and head out to my car, which Benedikt somehow arranged to get back here, even after all the chaos yesterday. I have no particular destination in mind.

Guilt pushes into me as I duck into the driver’s seat.

Why did he have to fight with me, but still be so kind?

It’s confusing.

I’m not sure at what point I decide, but I find myself driving to visit his sister, Belle. I don’t know anyone else whom I can talk to, and I need to talk about the fight we had. Maybe she can give me some perspective on how to handle him. I know my own brother better than most people, so I assume she is as close to Benedikt.

If anyone can give me insight into how he thinks, it’s Belle.

***

Belle excitedly welcomes me into the house, happy that I chose to visit her.

“I’m just about to make pancakes. You chose the perfect time. Have you had breakfast yet?” she ushers me towards the kitchen.

“Not yet. Have you got honey?”

“Of course, and white chocolate sauce, that’s my fave.”

“I haven’t tried that. It sounds amazing.”

I sit on the edge of the kitchen counter, watching her move around the kitchen. “Where is your mom?”

“Out shopping maybe, I’m not sure. She left before I was awake.”

She pours pancake mixture into a hot pan coated with butter.

“I’m so glad you came to visit. You know you’re welcome here any time. How are things going with Ben?”

I laugh and roll my eyes.

She smirks and shakes her head. “Is he being annoying?”

“I don’t know. We kind of had a stupid fight last night.”

“I think it’s great that my brother finally has someone to have stupid fights with. A lover’s quarrel,” she teases.

“It doesn’t feel great. I’m still angry about it.”

“What happened? Was it bad?” Belle flips the pancake and turns to glance at me.

Was it bad? I consider her question. No, I don’t think so. It didn’t get nasty.

“Not really,” I shrug. “He’s just being so bossy. He tried to tell me I wasn’t allowed to leave the house without him. As though I’m his prisoner there.”

Belle giggles. “He’s being protective.”

“If that’s what you want to call it. I think he’s being an asshat.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Not in those words,” I laugh. “We didn’t really finish the argument.”

“Honestly, I’m just happy to hear he has someone to have these silly little lovers’ quarrels with.”

“A lovers’ quarrel?” I say, confused.