~

"I'll leave now," he murmured against her lips and she sighed, their breaths mingling.

Sofia had never experienced something so satisfying and yet so disheartening at the same time.

"You should," she said and saw the sadness flicker across his eyes.

"I cannot persuade you to change your mind, can I?" Another brush of his lips against hers and she quivered in sensual agony.

She moved down her face to rest her chin at the hollow between his collarbones, his addictive smell creating chaos in her senses just like always.

"No," she said as strongly as possible and prayed that it was enough.

Max sighed, and this time allowed her to step out of his embrace. An embrace which was more like a bear hug, which didn't leave much room for her to put any distance between them since the moment he had gathered her into it.

When earlier, the storm had ended and the clouds cleared to make way for the new rays of sun, Sofia had been in a tangle of limbs with Max on her bed. It was not the aftermath of making love, it was far more. After that much needed talk during the entire period of the storm in dark, it was their way of seeking reassurance and tranquility from one another, and in silence. They didn't need to sate themselves physically, they just needed the presence of one another for those quiet minutes so that they could imprint it in memory and use it to sooth themselves later while in distance. It had been perhaps an hour later Sofia made coffee for the both of them, they enjoyed the taste of warm caffeine on bed while holding hands the whole time, knowing their time was limited.

It was a bitter sweet dilemma, really.

This arrangement of staying apart, it was not going to last forever and they both knew it. And yet the knowledge didn't make it any less difficult.

"I feel like a secret lover, slipping out of your bedroom after a night of passion before anyone wakes up in the house and catches us," Max said as he sat down at the edge of her bed and bent over to tie his shoe laces.

Sofia stood beside him, leaning against the headboard. "It's best if you leave before people wake up and ambush you into a series of inquiries over last night's fiasco."

"So you're protecting your husband the damsel?"

Sofia smiled in response.

Her eyes watched him with want that she didn't bother to hide, it was way too mighty for her to cover up. Why would she try something she knew she would fail in anyway?

She ogled without shame as his sinewy hands moved—pulling down his pants in place after tying the shoe laces, buttoning his shirt all the way up and tucking the marvelous sight of half exposed view of his chest away from her lusting eyes, and then those hands ran through his hair in an attempt to tame back the disheveled tresses.

Failing to resist herself any longer, she reached out and combed her fingers through his hair. His hands paused before dropping down to his sides and as she fixed his hair into a somewhat presentable state, he sighed contently looking up at her with the kind of incredible amount of affection that had her heart flutter without pause.

"This puppy face won't work," she said softly.

The corner of his lips pulled up into a defeated smile. "A man can try."

She snuck him out of the house like he had said—a secret lover and sent him away, but not before he made her mind dazed with a scorching kiss. And then she stood at the doorway with her back pressed against the closed door and heart beating fast in her chest.

His taste stayed on her tongue, his memories played on her mind.

It was funny how she'd acquired the needed space between them and yet he was still with her.

Rest of the Hayden house awakened soon after with obvious frenzy to investigate last night's dramatics. Sofia dodged the onslaught of questions declaring that it was just a fight of theirs that had gone a little out of hand. That was all she was willing to reveal and no more. Her aunt seemed unsatisfied that they couldn't dig out more information but Sofia was determined to not let anyone else inside Max and her bubble of privacy. She was not a woman who would whine about her marital troubles to her parents or relatives or friends. She would rather try her best to solve things by herself before including any third wheel.

It's not like sharing problems with someone is bad, it's just that some people are simply not carved that way. Sofia was one of them. It was a blessing and a curse at the same time.

When she sat down at the table for breakfast with her chattering family, she found the sandwich she made for herself bland in her mouth. With great difficulty she chewed and swallowed what felt like a pile of brick crumbs. She blamed her loss of appetite on the sleepless night.

After several attempts, her darling white car started with a guttural noise. She didn't know how a dying cat's cry while being brutally murdered sounded like, but she was certain it would be something similar to how her car protested against her commands to start nowadays.

"Only because you're one of my mother's memories that I still put up with you, sweetheart," she grumbled, warning the car while speeding out of the driveway. The car made a pinging noise from somewhere and she scoffed in return. It was like the car and her were having a crazy-sweet dispute, which was not something new.

As Sofia drove through the city, she could see the damages the storm had done. She passed by two cars at two different roads stuck under humongous broken tree brunches. Police, fire truck and ambulance surrounded another area where a car crash took place. Traffic was crazy as well because of of the condition of the roads. She reached the diner extraordinarily late.

And the moment she stepped out of her car, her jaw dropped at the sight that greeted her.

Outside her diner, there was Joe, the Ramsey junior, behind a counter facing the tables of the outdoor extension of her diner. He was shirtless, wearing a flimsy white apron that read "kiss the cook" in bright wine red at the front. A traditional chef's hat was fashionably in a tilted position on top of his head. A panful of pasta was in the process of being cooked, which Joe made a show of flipping expertly, his muscles flexing as his hands moved. Out under the open sky, sun glared over his bronze skin.

Joe looked sleek with seduction.

A cheer erupted, and that was when Sofia noticed the crowd of fangirls sitting at the tables.

Her eyes narrowed.

All the girls—some young and some not so much, looked star-struck at her new cook. People were spell-bounded at Joe's every move. She was sure, it was more because of the face and abs and muscles, and not much because of the food getting cooked to be served.

From the sidelines she watched with her arms crossed, as plates after plates of meal were being served by the running servers.

When all the tables were done taken care of, Joe's pleased eyes raked through the women who were still drooling and definitely not for food. Some of them winked at him and some smiled shyly.

Mass flirtation.

His sparkling eyes at last took notice of Sofia and instantly a beaming grin of pride settled on his face. Sounds of dreamy sighs echoed from the tables around.

Sofia's eyes narrowed further making his grin falter a bit.

She gestured him to follow her and then stomped away into her office. She didn't look back to see if he was following her or not, but if he didn't he was so going to suffer the more later.

"What the hell were you doing out there, Joe?" she scowled at him across her desk.

"Cooking," was his simple answer.

"Half naked?!"

Joe straightened his apron with a shy smile. "It's business strategy, Sofia, and you can't deny that it worked," he grinned, his teeth blinding her eyes. "Bloody hell, we've customers lining up for tables—"

"Female," Sofia cut in blandly. "Only female customers are lining up for tables."

Unperturbed, Joe made wild gestures with his hands. "It's a hit!"

Sofia was unimpressed, however. Suddenly, she got the reason why Joe could not work at his father's restaurants. The guy, clearly, needed a lot of growing up to do.

The next hour that followed was a solid pain in the ass, as Sofia drilled into Joe's thick skull that her business would not progress with the help of any sort of indecency—especially ones that looked like a strip show in the name of cooking.

What was a place of tranquility to her, would never be polluted for the sake of quick money.

Joe's face fell as silence reigned after her long lecture. But then, he perked up suddenly.

"You talk absolutely like my father," He said, his face for a rare moment was wistful. "I'm positive that one day you're going to be as successful as him."

Sofia's eyes were narrowed in anger but one corner of her mouth fell into a smile. She snorted not knowing how to react to that. The comment seemed like a gigantic and an almost impossible dream to her. "Now go back to cooking. And for god's sake, throw away that disgusting apron and wear a shirt."

A series of groans in protest rang from around.

Sofia craned her neck to cast an indignant glare at her female staff lurking outside the office door. Apparently, even her employees were not unaffected by Joe's shirtless charms.

Sofia had to agree though that Joe was a fine specimen of man, with muscles in all the right places; next to no fat; fine abs; bronze skin tone from staying out in the sun more often. But the thing was, she had already seen the best. In her eyes, no one could hold a candle in front of her husband.

No one can enchant a woman who is already and so thoroughly enchanted by another.

Sometime later, she slumped back into her office chair as Mary's got back to normal. But apparently, normal in its purest form wasn't the forte of whoever was running her fate.

She was in the middle of sorting out this month's electricity, water and gas bills when the papers fell from her startled hands as an unexpected outburst rattled the air around her.

"What the hell's going on, Sof?" Max stormed towards her with determined steps, looking ready to murder. He skidded to a halt right in front of her desk. "Why was Joe prancing around you in a state of undress? Did he harass you? Can you finally see why I do not like that f*cking sleazeball? Now where is he? I swear he's going to meet my fist face-first the moment I see him."

The maniac is back. Hallelujah!

Lips pressed into a thin line, Sofia stared up at Max from her chair.

This looked awfully familiar, almost like history was repeating itself and reminding her of the side of this man that she detested strongly yet couldn't help but adore with her entire heart as well.

--

"Oh," that was what Max responded with, looking relaxed now, after Sofia had dragged him to their usual table at the farthest corner and explained the reason of Joe's so called earlier state of undress.

Sofia raised brows. "I want more than that 'oh' as an explanation to how you're suddenly getting breaking-news of my workplace—that too, in such dumbly twisted versions."

"Well," Max cleared his throat. "I got a call from one of your customer's very pissed off husband who also happens to be my recent client. He's apparently put a spy after his wife to confirm his doubts about the woman's supposed infidelity," he halted for a brief second, his face pinching up in annoyance. "Turns out the spy is not very reliable, the information he's providing are coated with colorful imagination."

As Sofia leaned back into the backrest, Max continued, "I was convinced that Joe was harassing you after he was done giving a strip show to your female customers." He visibly cringed and then shook his head. "That guy is an absolute idiot."

Sofia huffed, her lips pulling up into a tired smile. "Tell me about it."

"One would think the great Jason Ramsey's son would be more...," she trailed off, not being able to find a proper word.

"Wise," Max came in for help. "Dignified. Decent."

"But turns out he needs to grow up a hell lot more, he's more childish than idiot. " She said, shaking her head with a chuckle. She turned serious the next second though. Just now she remembered something extremely crucial. "Max, what happened to us keeping distance from each other? You can not show up every time you hear silly stuff like this. We agreed to stay away, didn't we?"

"I worry about you."

"You could have called me," she said as softly as possible, not wanting to hurt him but needing to draw the line.

He looked away and shrugged wordlessly, his face giving away nothing.

She breathed out, trying to figure out what was going on in that brain of her husband. However, she was not a mind reader and he seemed eager to change the topic. She went with the flow, hoping that this would be the last of his reckless leap over the boundary she'd created.

"Now that I'm here, I think it only makes sense that I don't leave without having lunch," he checked the time on his wristwatch and looked absolutely pleased. "Ah, it's lunch time, perfect. Can you cook up something fast for me? I've a meeting at four." He added as an afterthought, "Sweetheart."

Sofia didn't know what to make of this man. He tested her patience every waking minute.

She had someone serve him lunch half an hour later as she stayed inside, directing her staff as everyone worked. Stoves burned with fire, smoke filled the kitchen along with aroma of food being cooked. When Max had barged inside earlier, thankfully Joe was inside the storage to bring out tomatoes. And now that Max was busy gobbling up food outside, Sofia had Simmy immediately take Joe to the supermarket. It was not a secret that her dear husband wasn't that great of a fan of Joe, and so, she figured it was wise to keep him out of Max's eyes. That way unnecessary chaos could be avoided.

Sofia herself, too, stayed out of Max's eyes. It was only when he was leaving, she walked to the window.

Strong, black iron grills between them stood still as she watched him open the door of his black car. She noticed a part of the ever so intimidating vehicle's body had now an artwork made from white chalk, a smiley face — that was no doubt a kid's doing. Her eyes flickered to the other side of the street. A group of little boys and girls played hopping around there, they were glancing nervously towards the car, biting their lips as they contained smiles of obvious mischief, some of them covered their mouths with little dusty hands and shook with silent laughter.

Sofia couldn't help but laugh lightly. When her eyes returned to Max, he was already looking at her with a smile of his own. His eyes were soft and filled with mirth as they held her gaze. And like always he took her breath away, even if it was just by a mere look her away, he still succeeded.

He glanced down at the large white smiley face at the side of his car, looked at the children who were now turning the other way in alarm. Shaking his head with the smile intact, he got behind the wheels, and giving her another look filled with not expectations but many promises, he drove away. A swirl of dust was what left behind in the place where his car stood a moment ago.

Sofia backed away from the window, her smile never diminishing.

--

The saga continued of leaping over boundaries, much to Sofia's dismay.

Max came back for dinner that night and then the next night too. In fact, by the end of three days of their somewhat mutual separation, he was a constant customer at her restaurant for his every single meal. He would be there to have breakfast when she started her workday, he would come back for lunch, and then, for dinner too.

Sofia wouldn't come out of her office, maintaining the distance pact. They would only see each other through the grilled window.

His soft smile before he got into his car every time—it never failed to swing her heart out of it's designated place.

Coming out of the bathroom after a long warm shower, Sofia went to her room.

Flicking on the light switch with wet fingers came with consequences, a zap of electricity ran down her entire body.

Damn, it hurt!

Heavens knew why she often forgot the fact that water and electricity was not a good combination.

Thankfully though, she had rubber sandals on. With a quiet shriek, she quickly yanked her fingers away and muttered a curse under her breath.

A second later, from the bed her phone pinged with the arrival of a message. Throwing her towel over the curtain rail she went to her phone and a slow smile appeared on her face seeing it was the person she anticipated it to be. Max.

~Sleeping?~

~Not yet. Just had shower.~ She typed and sent it.

Another routine that had developed between them. For it was clear that none of them could sleep without conversing with each other.

At first, during their first night being apart, when he talked to her over the phone, conversation dragged up to two long hours without any of them realizing. In hushed voices he said words of love and seduction in her ear, uttered promises of how he was going to make up for this time apart when he would finally have her again in their bed—in their home. He spoke of how much he longed for her and how he ached without her, and he drew sighs from her mouth of equal longing and desperation. It almost felt like he lied beside her that moment and not at the other side of the phone, miles away. She'd never felt this way ever before.

It was terrifyingly overwhelming.

The lack of sleep that night had her feeling extremely sick the next morning. The nausea she felt was so much that she threw up in the bathroom, and couldn't get a single morsel of food down her throat at breakfast. Her own family turned out to be traitors as it didn't take time for the news of her illness to reach Max's ears.

She would've been thankful for he didn't transport himself to the Haydens' immediately because of being present in a early morning court session, but then that impossible guy blamed himself. She had to literally scold the guilt out of his mind. Since that day, he stopped with the long phone calls at night. They settled with sending text messages and he would insist that she went to sleep earlier than later.

~If you're still feeling unwell, Sof, please let me take you to a doctor.~

She bit her lip, the stress and urgency was clear in his voice. Before she could even type a reply, he added...

~You know what—let's go see a doctor anyway. Take a leave from work tomorrow. I'll be picking you up early in the morning.~

She groaned. ~NO. I'm absolutely alright, Max.~

~You're not eating properly.~

She scowled.

It was official, her family loved Max more than her. What a tragedy.

With great difficulty, she finally convinced Max that she was not that unwell to be dragged to a hospital and pinned down with needles of various lengths. Because, come on..., who storms to a hospital just because of a little fatigue and nausea! People could be so fascinatingly daft these days.