Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“The heart is cooking a pot of food for you. Be patient until it is cooked.”
— Rumi

August 2021

“Sydney baby, you know you can always come home.”

Sydney rolled her eyes to herself as she made her way down the street toward her destination. “Dad, I’m fine. I have enough money saved up and I have a few gigs lined up. I’ll land on my feet. I always do.”

“I love you, Sydney. I’m so proud of you baby. Coming home doesn’t equal failure.” Emmanuel reminded her like he always did.

Sydney paused in her journey, her throat becoming tight with emotion. The reminder of the year she’s had so far combined with her dad’s soft knowing tone made her heart fall into her stomach. She closed her eyes briefly before taking a deep breath and continuing her journey down the street. “I know, Dad. I love you too, so freaking much.”

Emmanuel chuckled. “Good. I’ll let you go baby. Call me again soon.”

“Okay, bye dad.” She stopped outside of the last restaurant she’d worked in before starting her catering business.

This was her fifth funeral this year.

The pandemic had fucked up nearly everything; shutting down restaurants left and right. Exposing their weak spots and worse. She started her catering business in January of 2019. It became successful quickly that first year and she was bringing in the bucks. Her business had somehow survived the height of the pandemic, with financial assistance, and Sydney held her breath as she fumbled and stumbled to the finish line of the city reopening. Her business went back to booming, not only surviving but thriving through the spring and some of summer, but suddenly it all went to shit. A bad catering gig here and a few unpaid invoices there had her head spinning and her business failing.

Sheridan Road Catering was officially dead, and she still couldn’t figure out what the fuck she did wrong.

“Syd!”

She glanced up, smiling as, Roger Cruz, her best friend, and possibly the best expediter in the NYC restaurant scene, ran up to her. “Hey. You made it.” She hugged him.

Roger laughed. “Yes girl. Of course I did. I wanted to witness the fall of Mordor.”

Sydney snorted out a laugh as she stared up at the building that fueled her daily migraines. “I didn’t think I’d see the day, and it’s kind of sad, but when I think about the number of lemons I had to zest, it gives me a little twinge of satisfaction.” She bumped shoulders with him. “At least I got a best friend out of the deal. I wouldn’t have survived here without you.”

Roger hugged her shoulders. “Same to you girl.”

She and Roger had worked at Evergreen for nearly two years, the two of them being the only two black people out of a staff of fifty. They found themselves permanently bonded over more than their skin color, but because of their similar life experiences.

“Well,” She sighed. “You ready to go in and see Sauron—wait, is that…” She trailed off, her eyes widening slightly as she spotted a familiar figure walking down the block.

“Oh shit, he came.” Roger smirked as he caught sight of the expression on Sydney’s face. “Still crushing, huh?”

Sydney’s mouth closed as she scoffed. “I am not crushing on him. I simply admire—”

“His bomb ass eyes?” Roger cut in with a smirk.

Sydney elbowed him, mortified. “His skill.” She corrected. “You work with him at Empire. You know how good he is. Hell, everyone knows.”

Roger smirked. “I know how wet he makes you.”

“Oh my god. You’re so—” She never said such a thing to him, and she regrets raving about the food she tasted a few weeks ago. Sydney felt herself tense as the figure walked closer. “Don’t embarrass me.” She hissed.

“I wouldn’t dare love. Chef Carmen! You came.” Roger said in his boisterous tone.

Carmen smiled as he nodded. “Chef Roger. After you kept insisting, I figured I had no choice.”

“You didn’t.” Roger said, wrapping an arm around Sydney’s shoulder. “This is Chef Sydney Adamu.”

Sydney’s smile felt frozen on her face as she waved shyly at him. “Hi.” She greeted, wincing at how lame she sounded.

Chef Carmen gave her a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Chef Sydney.” He nodded toward the building. “I was an assistant sous here for a bit also.”

Sydney knew that, but how did he know she had been?

“How many lemons did you zest?” He asked.

Sydney smiled. “Oh, like a shit ton.”

They both smiled at each other, but the spell was broken when Roger put his arms around their shoulders and began to lead them toward the building. “Now that we’re all friends, let’s head inside and give our condolences.”

88

After the funeral was the after party, and Sydney found herself unmoored as Roger had abandoned her in favor of making out with one of Evergreen’s servers. She walked away from the bar, pausing as she spotted Chef Carmen sitting in the corner, nursing a glass of wine. She bit her lip in indecision before making her way toward him. “Hey.”

He looked up and she was struck dumb by the color of his eyes. “HI.” He said.

She gestured to the empty seat beside him. “Can I?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

Sydney sat beside him, crossing her legs as she leaned back in her seat. She glanced briefly at him, wondering what the fuck she was doing sitting down next to him. He had been quiet during service, only speaking when spoken to; only giving the tiniest of smiles when something funny was said. “You look like you’re having a blast.” she finally said.

He huffed out a small life. “You too.”

Sydney smiled. “You know I thought I’d be more satisfied with this hellscape shutting down but all it’s doing is—”

“Fueling crippling anxiety.” Carmen cut in and she nodded.

“Exactly.” she said with a shake of her head. “I mean, Evergreen, gone?”

“It’s insanity.” Carmen agreed, looking at her. “Where are you now?” He asked curiously.

She sighed heavily. “Oh. I had a catering business.”

He frowned. “Had?”

She sighed. “It’s a long, sad tale. Well—not that long but sad nonetheless.”

Carmen gave her a look of understanding. “I’m sure you’ll find something. Being a Chef with your skill.”

Sydney frowned at him. “Well thanks, but what do you know about my skill?”

Carmen nodded toward Roger who was hugged up with Ruben the server. “Roger said you were an amazingly talented Chef. I trust his judgement.”

Sydney fought the strong urge to squirm in her seat. “Roger talked about me to you?”

Carmen looked slightly amused as he answered. “Yeah, quite a lot actually.”

She was going to fucking kill Roger. “What else did he tell you?” she asked nervously.

Carmen watched her for a long moment before answering. “Just Evergreen stories. The huge dinner parties you like to host. How much he loves your food.”

Sydney groaned. “They weren’t the embarrassing stories, were they?” She watched his expression carefully, feeling annoyed that she couldn’t read him.

“No.” He answered, tilting his head toward her. “What do you consider an embarrassing story?”

She smiled wryly at him. “Nice try.”

He took a sip of his wine to hide his smile. “You’re from Chicago right?” He asked and she nodded.

They talked about being from Chicago, both revealing which part they grew up in. Which schools they went to. It was an easy conversation that lasted nearly an hour, and Sydney found herself pathetically entranced by his sleepy gaze and soft voice.

“You like living in New York?” He asked.

Sydney grinned. “I love it. I love the fast pace, you know? I couldn’t leave here when I finished CIA. I fell in love. The culture. The restaurants alone—”

“Everything is here.” Carmen agreed softly.

“What about you?” Sydney asked. “Do you like it?”

Carmen nodded. “I do. It’s inspiring. Didn’t think I’d ever be here.” He shrugged. “Though, I don’t get to explore it as much as I could. Everything Is about working in the kitchen.”

Sydney nodded in understanding. “Michelin mode?” She asked and he nodded. “I get it. You’re CDC of Empire.” Empire was the most expensive 3-star restaurant In the city and only the best of the best worked there. “What’s that like?”

Carmen took a long time to answer. “Intense.” He answered, looking away from her.

Sydney studied him quietly wondering if he had more to say and was surprised when he didn’t. “Roger said Chef David was an asshole.”

Carmen shrugged. “That’s putting it lightly.” He sipped his wine.

Roger had told her Chef David was cold in the kitchen. An abusive asshole and she idly wondered if he abused Carmen the way she heard he abuses others. Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming need to say her next words. “The Hamachi—” She trailed off when Carmen looked at her, his expression curious. “The Hamachi with blood orange was the best meal I’ve ever eaten. It made me smile. It made me very happy.” She watched as his expression turned to shocked surprise.

“You—you ate that?” He asked. “I sent that out to you?”

Sydney had to look away from him for a moment, feeling too shy from the intensity in his gaze. Biting her lip, she pulled out her phone to show him the pictures she took. She cleared her throat as he leaned in closer to see the picture. She scrolled to the second picture from a different angle. “I was surprised because it—it wasn’t on the menu, but it was so special and exquisite. It tasted so fucking fire.”

Carmy’s fingers touched the picture, his expression blank, but with an intensity in his eyes. “I was so fucking fed up that day.” His jaw clenched and his lips pursed as if he realized he’d said too much. He looked at her “Can you send those to me?”

Sydney smiled at him. “Sure. What’s your number?” She quickly typed as he rattled off his number and sent him the pics. She watched as he lifted his phone.

“Thanks.” He said with a grateful smile. He looked nervous for a moment. “Would you mind if I saved your number?”

Oh. Shit. He wanted to save her number. Sydney tried to play it cool as she nodded, hoping her expression wasn’t awkward, keeping her voice casual and cool as a cucumber. “Sure. Do you mind if I saved yours?”

He looked surprised again. “Of course. Um—yeah.”

Suddenly loud music started to play, and everyone cheered. Both Sydney and Carmen winced.

“Stand up and dance you two!” Roger shouted at them. “It’s time to party!”

Carmen started to look cagey and a little terrorized, so Sydney decided to take pity on him. “I’m still hungry.” She said loudly over the music. “You want to grab a slice, Carmen?”

Carmen looked relieved as he nodded and stood. “I know a place and please call me Carmy.”

88

Sydney often found herself in peculiar situations since living in the city, and most times, she wasn’t one to question said situations. It’s just what happened. So, finding herself naked in bed with Carmen Berzatto was not something she would question.

His lips and tongue were unreal, kissing her deeply until she was nearly dizzy. All Sydney could do was hold on for dear life, moaning as his tongue pushed and pulled against hers. Damn.

“Are you okay?” he asked as she pulled away to catch her breath.

They had talked for two more hours at the little hole in a wall Italian restaurant he claimed had the best margherita pizza he’s ever tasted. They had shared a medium sized pie between them; conversation soft and relaxed, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He had been right about the pizza. At some point a comfortable silence fell between them and she suddenly had enough courage to ask if he wanted to go back to his place.

Sydney nodded unable to find words now. She placed her hands onto his cheeks and pulled his mouth back to her own, moaning as his hands suddenly gripped her waist and rolled over, so she was on top.

They both sat up, she straddled on his waist, letting their lips meet in a slow, lingering kiss. She pulled away from his mouth to look at him. Damn. His eyes were—she’s never had anyone look at her with such intensity and desire. They watched one another for a few minutes, the intensity of what they were about to do settling in deliciously. Sydney wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest. She sighed as his fingers caressed the soft skin of her back, fingertips tracing her spine.

He kissed her throat, and she tensed with a giggle. “It tickles.” She murmured, smiling at him.

Carmy tilted his head, expression turning serious. “You’re very beautiful.” He said suddenly.

Sydney smiled shyly, burying her face in his shoulder to hide her embarrassment from his compliment.

“What?” Carmy asked, gently caressing her back. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Sydney lifted her head. “No. You said exactly the right thing.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.” It has been so long since she was called beautiful, even longer since anyone has touched her. The desire not to be touched, along with the pandemic had put her in spell so dry she’d almost forgotten what it was like to be touched this way. She could feel him hard and insistent against her and she tightened her arms around him as her hips squirmed against him.

She gasped again and gripped his shoulders as he suddenly turned once more, caging her beneath him. “You’re making me dizzy.” She said, hands squeezing his shoulders.

He leaned down for a soft kiss. “Sorry.” He apologized softly.

Sydney’s thumb caressed his lips as she smiled. “It was a compliment.”

Carmy blinked in surprise, slowly giving her a small smile. “Got it.” He said. “Uh, thanks?”

Sydney giggled, tilting her head as he kissed her throat once more. She gasped when his teeth gently nipped at her skin. She lifted her head as he slowly began to kiss a trail down her body, pausing to kiss each nipple before kissing down her belly. Sydney’s head fell back against the pillow, and her fingers tangled themselves in his hair as he lifted her leg and placed it over his shoulder.

“Shit.” She breathed as Carmy’s tongue swept his tongue over her warm wet pussy without hesitation. Her eyes drifted closed as he kissed her delicate folds before burying his mouth deeper, easing two fingers inside of her. “Fuck.” Sydney breathed out, hips moving against his face as she pulled on his hair. He left no stone unturned, licking, kissing, and sucking her until she cried out, hips bucking into his face as his thumb rubbed her clit.

Sydney laughed and shook her head as dizzying pleasure coursed through her. It wasn’t long before his touch became too much on her sensitive skin and she gently pushed his head away.

Her eyes slipped open as Carmy kissed a path back up her body, settling between her thighs while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Sydney swallowed as she met his intense gaze. His eyes were darker, his expression a little predatory. Oh, she thought, she now understood she was dealing with a menace and was about to be wrecked.

She shivered.

88

Sydney’s eye slipped open, and she stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling, confused and disoriented at first before she remembered the night before. The bedroom was quiet, the spot beside her empty. She slowly sat up, holding the sheet to her chest as her eyes scanned the neatly pristine bedroom for her dress and underwear. She paused in surprise as she spotted the article of clothing along with her underwear neatly folded on the nightstand. Well, that was nice of him.

She slipped it on over her head and slipped her panties on before cautiously leaving the room, tiptoeing down the hall for reasons unknown. She could smell delicious food cooking, and her stomach grumbled with hunger.

She stood in the doorway of the living room quietly watching as he moved around the kitchen, clad only in his sweatpants. His muscles bunched and flexed as he moved, and she sighed dreamily to herself before clearing her throat.

Carmy looked up from the stove with a welcoming smile. “Hey.” He greeted.

Sydney stood shyly In the doorway, feeling annoyed with herself for her inability to act cool. They saw each other naked for Christ sake. “Hey. Um, where’s your bathroom?”

He pointed with the spatula he held. “It’s back down the hall. First door on the left. There’s an extra toothbrush under the sink.”

She turned to go, hurrying to the bathroom as calmly as she could. She closed the door behind her, relieved the bathroom was pristine and smelled like lemons. She was beginning to see a pattern because she’s never seen another guy’s apartment so clean before.

She quickly emptied her bladder before standing at the sink. She caught sight of herself, relieved she didn’t look too crazy. She stared at herself, tilting her head this way and that. She smiled to herself as she noticed the hickeys he left on her neck. She washed her hands and brought her wet fingers to her hair so she could revitalize her curls, before leaning down to look underneath the sink for the extra toothbrush. She stared at the neatly organized cabinet, impressed with his organization skills. She stood up, gargled with mouthwash and brushed her teeth, idly wondering how the rest of this interaction would go.

Once finished, she made her way back into the kitchen, watching Carmy close the oven and turn with an iron skillet in his hand.

“Hey. I made breakfast.” He made his way toward the table and pulled out her chair. She sat as he placed the Skillet down onto the table.

“Fritata.” Sydney said and he nodded.

“With mixed mushroom and Taragon.” He reached for a plate of Crostini topped with creamy goat cheese, roasted butternut squash, crispy sage leaves with black pepper. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you.” Sydney said as he began to serve her. “It smells delicious.” She could feel his eyes on her as she took her first bite and holy fucking shit, how can someone cook something so good? She chewed slowly, curbing the urge to groan in happiness. She looked up at Carmy who was smiling at her. “It’s so good.” she said, smiling as his smile widened a fraction.

“I’m glad.” He bit into his own food.

They both ate in a comfortable silence, opting to enjoy their meal. He cleared his throat when Sydney finished her second helping. She looked up at him expectantly.

“I had fun.” He started, awkwardly.

Sydney nodded. “Me too.” She tilted her head. “You sound surprised.”

He breathed out a small laugh. “I—well yeah, I guess I am. Pleasantly surprised. Didn’t think the night would end up that way.” He shrugged. “Me and fun usually aren’t in the same category.”

Sydney remembered Roger casually mentioning how serious Carmy was all the time. ‘I don’t think he knows what jokes are.’ He had told her.

“We should do this again.” He said, wincing. “I mean—not just this but—”

“I’d like to see you again too.” Sydney cut in, biting her lip from the relief in his gaze. She bit into her crostini and her eyes closed as she chewed. “Jesus.” she muttered. “This is fire.” She opened her eyes to see him watching her again with the same small smile.

“I love food.” she said as she paused in stuffing her mouth. “In case you haven’t noticed.”

Carmy gave her a small laugh and it was the first time she’s heard him really laugh since meeting him. She stored the sound in her mind to remember it later.

“I have noticed, and I love food too.”

They finished the rest of breakfast in comfortable silence. Sydney found herself sitting back in her chair with a satisfied smile. “I’ll help you wash?” She was already standing and reaching for their plates.

Carmy stood up with her. “You don’t have to do that.” He reached for the skillet and followed her to the kitchen.

“I do.” She said simply. “I wash and you dry?”

Sydney switched the water on as he handed her the iron pan. “Do you use this every day?” She asked and he nodded. She simply wiped away the food crumbs from it and rinsed it clean, handing it to him to place onto the stove so the fire can dry it.

“Your place is really nice by the way.” He lived close to Empire, in a fancy building with a doorman. It was nicely sized and pristine though hardly had any decorations and was devoid of any photos. It was a little on the cold side, but nice, though much different from her warm cozy apartment in Harlem.

“Thanks.” He said simply. “Where do you stay?”

She handed him a plate to dry. “Oh, I’m In Harlem.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “You live alone?”

She shook her head. “No. I have a roommate, Jules. She’s a flight attendant so she travels a lot for work.”

They finished washing the dishes in record time and Sydney dried her hands with the paper towel he handed her. “Thank you, for breakfast.”

He nodded. “Welcome. I haven’t cooked for anyone in a long time—I mean outside of a customer.”

She nodded. “Well, I’m very lucky.” Unable to help herself, she moved toward the large bookcase in his living room. She scanned the titles, smiling to herself. “I have most of these.” She pointed to The Monet Cookbook. “That’s one of my favorites.”

Carmy moved to stand beside her as he nodded. “Mine too.”

“Can I?” She asked and he nodded. She pulled the book from the shelf and leafed through it. “What’s your favorite recipe from this?”

“The Veal meatballs.” He answered without hesitation. “Yours?”

“Stuffed Aubergines.”

“Ahh.” He said.

She continued to leaf through the book, feeling Carmy’s gaze on her.

“Are you—doing anything today?” He asked and she looked up.

“Nope. I’m free all day.” She tilted her head. “Why? you want—” She trailed off as he gently plucked the book from her hands and placed it back onto the bookshelf before gently taking her in his arms. “Oh okay.”

88

It was nearing five-thirty when Sydney made it to the top of her second-floor walk-up. She unlocked her apartment door and sighed heavily as she pushed it open. She tossed her keys onto the table by the door and slipped out of her shoes. She made her way into the Livingroom, hopping onto the overstuffed sofa with a happy smile. “Oh geez.” She muttered as Roger started face-timing her. She answered, knowing he was never going to let her hear the end of it.

“Well, Well, Well. Hello Miss, Sydney Adamu!” Roger said boisterously.

Sydney giggled. “Roger, my dear. Hello.”

“Oh no,” he said with a shake of his head. “Don’t my dear me. I saw your little ass skulk off with Chef Carmen. I was texting you all night and morning. I thought that white man done snapped and murdered you. Where’d you two run off to?”

“We went to get pizza, and I had my phone on do not disturb.” She said simply.

“Mmhmm.” Roger said. “And how was that?”

Sydney shrugged. “It was good. The pizza was great.” She bit her lip. “I’m actually just getting back home.”

Roger’s eyes widened as he gasped. “Oh my god! You slut!” He yelled, shaking his head.

“Shut up!” Sydney laughed.

Roger shook his head. “You’re such a groupie.” He laughed with a shake of his head. “My best friend is such a Chef groupie.”

“I am not!” Sydney yelled as Roger laughed. “Stop teasing. You started this whole fucking thing. I know you’ve been talking about me to Carmy.”

Roger’s smile softened as he placed his chin in his hands. “It’s Carmy now, huh?” He smirked. “Anway, how was that dick?”

Sydney’s entire body ached in a way it never had. She and Carmy had spent the better part of the day in bed and well…the ache between her thighs was a lovely reminder of the night and day she has had. Still, she didn’t go into detail, only smirked into the phone.

Roger laughed. “Ooooooouuuieeee! Sydney love, you needed that, yes ma’am. You gonna see each other again?”

Sydney shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean he said he’d like to, but you know how it Is nowadays.” Sydney wouldn’t dare hope because that could get you hurt.

“Yeah.” Roger agreed. “At least you got some loving.”

Sydney nodded. “I sure did.” The past year she’s been on edge and wound so tightly she’s surprised she hadn’t snapped. She felt so relaxed now. She smiled. “Now enough about me. How’d things go with you and that Evergreen server you were making out with?”

Roger waved his hand. “Oh, please girl. I was just bored. Besides, he sings on Broadway. You know how I feel about those ones. Anyway, Syd, I gotta go I’m about to get my manicure. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She hung up, starting in surprise as a text message from Carmy popped up on her phone.

’Just checking-in to see if you made it home alright?’

Sydney texted him back immediately, uncaring how uncool it seemed.

’Yes, I did. Thank you for checking.’

He replied a few minutes later.

’Would you like to meetup tomorrow? If it’s too much I understand.

Too much? Sydney thought. She typed up her reply.

’It’s not too much. I would like that. There’s an exhibit I’ve been meaning to see at the Studio Museum near me. We can meetup there and then grab a bite to eat?’

Sydney waited for his reply, hoping she wasn’t doing too much. Also, kind of hoping his idea of meeting up was not at his apartment for more sex. She was not falling into that trap again.

’Sounds good. Three-Thirty work?’

Perfect. I’ll text you the address.’

’Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

😊

Sydney slipped from her couch to head into the bathroom so she could shower. “I still got it.” She mumbled aloud.

8

“Palatable engages, celebrates and critiques the differences in the ways people represent themselves through food.” Sydney read aloud.

“Hmm.” Carmy said.

They stared at the piece of work in front of them. Trying to interpret it’s meaning.

“Okay.” Sydney mumbled. “I’m stumped on this one.”

“I mean, it’s supposed to be Palatable, but what the fuck?” He trailed off as Sydney buried her face into his shoulder to giggle. “What?” he asked, confused.

Sydney lifted her head when his hand caressed her cheek. “You’re funny.”

He blinked in surprise. “I am?” he asked softly.

Sydney’s smile softened. “And a little clueless too. It’s adorable.”

Carmy shook his head. “My sister calls me clueless all of the time.” He admitted as they moved toward the exit. “I still don’t know what that means.”

Sydney just laughed.

88

“Do you know what you want?” Sydney asked as she stared down at her menu.

“Think I’ll try the Bucatini Piccadilly and the Catfish.” Carmy answered “You?”

They’d agreed to eat at the Red Rooster and Sydney could still feel the tight way he had held her hand as they walked the four blocks to the restaurant. “Sweet potato coconut soup and Shrimp and grits.”

They placed their orders, and her soup came out first, she picked up her spoon as it was placed down in front of her, giving her thanks to the waiter. “Share with me?” She asked him, smiling when he picked up his spoon. They both dug in, each taking a taste.

“Fuck.” Sydney said with a shake of her head. “That’s fire.”

Carmy nodded in agreement. “Savory and sweet. A good balance. It’s perfect.”

Sydney nodded. “I tried to make something similar for this catering gig I had. It—didn’t turn out well. Couldn’t find the flavor balance.”

“What was the name of your catering business?” He asked.

“Sheridan Road. It was just a small idea, and it ballooned into a bigger idea real fucking fast. I would work at private parties. Small company events. Even in-home chef services. I just—wanted something for myself, you know? I was tired of zesting shit for a dish that wasn’t mine, at some point, I felt so fucking beat down.”

Carmy nodded. “I—I can understand feeling beat down, but it’s different for you.”

“Hell, yes, it’s different. Being a black woman in this industry can be and has been fucking treacherous. I’m tough, sure, but sometimes I don’t want to be. I don’t always want to have fight for a crumb of respect. I just wanted to be in my own space.” She took a sip from her water, watching Carmy watch her.

“What happened?” He asked.

She frowned. “Honestly, I don’t fucking know. I’m not ready to think about what I did or didn’t do wrong. I can’t figure it out, but I’m sure it’s there.” Her shit was fucked up. It was going to take a lot to dig herself out of this hole. “Well,” she said, “At least it was a wild ride for three years.”

Carmy nodded. “And through a pandemic. You were a free bird.”

She laughed. “Flying high; until I wasn’t.”

He touched her hand. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Thank you for listening.” She tilted her head. “What about you?” She asked. “Why’d you choose to be a chef?”

Carmy was quiet for a long moment before answering. “Life, you know it has chaos. Confusion. Emotion. Discomfort. But, when I’m in the kitchen. When I’m cooking. Creating. Thinking about food—it all just disappears.”

“Mmm.” Sydney agreed. “Deep.” She said and he nodded.

“Yeah? For the most part. The other parts are desperately trying to prove something to someone who probably doesn’t give a shit.”

“Ahh.” Sydney nodded. “Family?”

Carmy nodded. “Family.” He confirmed. “That wasn’t weird, was it? Sharing something like that when we’ve only known each other for a day and a half?”

Sydney shrugged. “It doesn’t feel weird.” Which was odd because Sydney rarely felt this comfortable telling her business and being this vulnerable with a guy.

“No.” Carmy agreed. “It doesn’t.”

Their food arrived and Sydney stared down at her dish with delight. “I’m going to murder this.”

Carmy smiled. “Taste and pass?” He asked and she nodded, picking up her spoon.

“Do you miss it?” he asked as he passed her the Piccadilly. “Being in the kitchen?”

Sydney nodded as she passed him her grits. “Sort of? No. I do. The downside of catering is being alone. You shouldn’t be alone in the kitchen, you know?”

Something crossed his features as they switched dishes again.

Sydney tilted her head. “What?”

Carmy shrugged. “I never thought about it that way. It’s—it’s a nice thought.”

Sydney wanted him to say more because she had questions but didn’t want to be pushy. “Try the Catfish?” She asked and he nodded. They both dug in with their forks and tasted it.

“Damn.” Sydney murmured. She speared one of the pickled onions. “Fuck.” She said, tasting more. “This might be better than sex.”

Carmy nodded in agreement. “It’s close.” He said with a chuckle.

88

After eating, Sydney led him to Sugar Hill Creamery, the best ice cream in all of New York City, she exclaimed.

“You can smell the Summer.” Sydney commented as she enjoyed her cold treat.

“What like, urine and garbage?” He asked as they walked across the street toward St. Nicholas park.

Sydney giggled. “I was trying to be poetic smarty pants.” They sat down on one of the benches. “I was going to say the air is thick like honey.”

He smiled. “You equate almost everything with food. I appreciate that.”

“I’m glad.” She said, holding out her ice cream. “Switch?”

Carmy switched bowls with her. Dipping his spoon in her treat. He tasted it, nodding as the sweet taste of peaches touched his tongue. “Peach Clobber.” He guessed correctly. “It’s good.”

Sydney tasted his, smiling as she hummed. “Vanilla. Sea Salt Caramel, wafers, and Oreos? You like the Salty sweet I’m learning.”

Carmy hummed in agreement, taking a few more bites of her ice cream before switching with her again.

They were both quiet as they ate, taking in the busy sounds of the park.

“So, did you enjoy today?” she asked suddenly.

“I did.” He answered immediately. “On a Monday no less.”

“We’re radicals.” She tossed her empty bowl into the trash and pulled out her phone. “Let’s take a selfie?”

He nodded, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she leaned closer and lifted her phone.

“Smile.” She quickly held out phone so he could see the picture. “We look young and hot.”

He laughed, nodding. “First of many?” He asked, tone hesitant, yet hopeful.

A wave of excitement coursed through Sydney at his words, and she mentally rolled her eyes at herself. Damn, she just may be a groupie. She met his eyes with a knowing smile, a playful look dancing across her face as she said. “Here’s hoping.”

September

Even in the second week of September, the summer sun still blazed a trail through the streets of NYC, setting everyone on fire in its path. Sydney was one of its victims as she traipsed between Brooklyn and Manhattan, trying to find a staging gig to no avail. It wasn’t a huge surprise considering the city was still recovering from a pandemic that was still going on.

Sydney wasn’t sure if she should start to panic. She had money in her savings, and she made sure to save like a bitch when she decided to stay in the city.

Despite her issues with her finding employment, she was having a grand old time. The main reason being the man whose bathroom she currently occupied. It was another Sunday spent together; Sydney having met Carmy outside of Empire at the end of his service the night before like she sometimes did.

They’ve developed a little routine, meeting up Saturday night and spending time together Sunday into Monday. Sometimes he showed up to her apartment after service; other times she showed up to his. There were Sunday dinners and dates on Mondays, with texts and phone conversations in the days between.

Sydney wouldn’t question if it was too fast; too much, and too soon because she was feeling connected to Carmen in a way, she’s never felt connected to another person she’s dated.

Not to mention the sex which was an experience beyond words.

She tied her curls up in a pineapple style as she heard the front door open and Carmy call out her name.

“Syd?”

“In the bathroom!” She called, smiling at him over her shoulder as he emerged in the doorway. “Did you find the capers you wanted?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He said absently, eyes scanning her up in down.

Sydney’s grin widened. She was wearing the pajama tights, the ones that made her butt look good. “What’s that look for?” She teased and Carmy blinked, shaking his head slightly.

“What look?” He asked. “How—was-uh your shower?”

She nodded. “It was great. Are you ready to cook?” She moved closer, kissing his cheek as she passed by him to go into the kitchen. She turned as he moved around her. grabbing her waist as he passed by.

They both washed their hands. “What are we making?”

“Chicken Piccata. I’ll cut the chicken,” he said, putting gloves on before reaching for a knife. “Can you—”

“Yup.” She cut in, pulling out a glass bowl from the cabinet. She reached for the flour and poured some into the bowl. She moved to the fridge to pull out the rest of the ingredients. She added butter and olive oil to the pan already on the stove and turned it on to medium heat.

“How’s the job search going?” He asked and she shrugged.

“Like shit.” She answered. “This pandemic has fucked up a lot places, you know? A lot of restaurants can’t afford to hire right now.” She handed him a serving pan as he started to season and dredge the chicken breast pieces.

He handed her the serving pan once he was finished. “You know, one of my sous quit, I can always put in a word for you?”

Syney shook her head as she began to place the pieces into the pan to fry. “Thank you, but no.”

He tilted his head with a frown as he removed his gloves. “Why not?” He reached for a large pot to boil water for the pasta. He sprinkled salt into the water.

She scoffed. “For a number of reasons.”

He pulled out a box of Angel Hair pasta. “Is Angel hair, okay?” He asked and she nodded. “Tell me more?” He asked.

She turned the heat down a little as she answered. “Well, Carmy, for one we’re sleeping together, quite excessively, I might add. I don’t want or need people thinking I got an in at Empire because of that.”

He leaned against the counter beside her. “No one would know we’re dating.”

Sydney scoffed again as she turned over the chicken breast. “They will know, Carmy. Chefs are the biggest gossips ever, you know that. Plus, you think they haven’t noticed me waiting for you out front after service some nights?”

“Fair point.” He acquiesced.

“Thank you.” She said.

His expression turned concerned. “You-uh—don’t think I’d invite you to Empire because we’re dating, do you?”

Sydney shrugged, briefly glancing up at him with her lips pursed. “I don’t know, would you?”

He handed her another serving pan so she could place the cooked chicken onto it. “No. Sydney, if you weren’t as skilled as you are, I would never ask you.”

Sydney has shown him her skill in cooking, but not to impress him. Okay maybe to impress him a little, but mostly to cook for someone she was genuinely beginning to care about. “Thank you.” She said, tone humble.

He moved around her, placing shallots and garlic into the pan to sauté. “Can you hand me that chicken stock, please?”

Sydney handed him the measuring cup and watched, mesmerized as he poured the stock into the pan. She poured in the lemon juice and added more butter. “That smells amazing.” She commented. Sydney idly wondered if he was aware of how hot it made her to be in the kitchen with him.

He smiled as he added the capers. “It does.” He added salt and pepper and stirred for a few minutes before bringing the spoon to her lips to taste. “Good?” He asked and she nodded.

They stared at each other for a few moments, the intensity and desirous sexy bubble, Sydney has come to call it in her head, forming around them.

Her phone rang, breaking the spell between them, and she turned away first so she could pick it up from the counter. She smiled as she saw her dad’s name on the display screen.

“Hey Dad.” She greeted, moving to sit on one of the stools.

“Hey baby, how are you?”

“I’m great. How are you?” She watched Carmy place the pasta into the boiling water.

“Ohh. Same ole’ same ole. I was just wondering if you’re still breathing and surviving the big city.”

Sydney rolled her eyes. “Still thriving, Dad.”

“You know your aunt sent me an article about the size of the rats in New York City.”

“Dad, you know Chicago is the most rat-infested City in the US, right?”

He sighed heavily. “I know that. I’m talking about cat sized rats. You be careful in those streets baby. I hear those rats will attack you without a second thought.”

Sydney laughed. “Dad, is this one of your monthly try to convince Sydney to come back to Chicago attempts? It’s a weak one.”

He sighed. “I know, baby. I think I’m just hungry.”

Sydney giggled. “Are you cooking today or are you eating from that horrible place again?”

“I’ll have you know I’m making a Sunday roast.”

“Nice.” Sydney said. “Don’t forget to deglaze the pot with the beef broth. Also, put it in the oven for-”

“Three twenty-five for three hours. Yes Sydney, I have the instructions you emailed me.”

She had been horrified to find out how much her dad was eating out and eating frozen foods. She’d always been the one to cook for him and she felt guilty she wasn’t able to anymore. “Okay. Good.” She smiled as Carmy gently placed the finished dish in front of her, the delicious lemon-buttery scent touching her nostrils. “I’m going to go dad. I’m about to eat but send me a picture of the finished pot roast.”

“Will do baby. Love you.”

“Love you too dad.” She placed her phone down as she grinned at Carmen. “This food smells so good.”

Carmy poured her a glass of white wine. “Enjoy.”

She dug in, rolling the pasta with her spoon and placing It onto her mouth. The sauce was tangy and buttery, and she tasted the chicken with the capers. “Carmy.” She groaned, glancing up at him.

“Yeah?” He laughed.

She shook her head. “Your cooking makes me so—fucking horny.”

Carmy choked on his wine, and she giggled, shaking her head as she continued to eat. “Well, that’s—” He gave a small laugh, his face flushing red. “That’s good to know.”

Sydney nodded as she ate a piece of the chicken. “I mean, I have to be honest. Of course, It’s more than your food, but it’s pretty high on the list of things Carmy does that make me horny.”

He looked surprised and amused. “There’s a list?”

She nodded, eyes sparkling as she took a sip of her wine. “You don’t have a list?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as his blush deepened. “Oh. We have to compare notes.”

“You’re crazy.” He said with a small grin. “But yes, we do.”

8

“What are you doing?”

Sydney paused mid fold. “Folding my shirt?”

Carmy tilted his head at her with confusion. “That’s how you fold your laundry?” He asked her, his tone judgmental.

She’d started doing laundry at his apartment because his washer-dryer was amazing and free. “What’s wrong with my folding?” She asked with amusement as Carmy gently took the t-shirt from her hands.

“It’s terrible and when you put it away in your dresser, it’ll get messy.”

Sydney looked on in amusement when he folded her shirt with perfect crips precision. “You’re very anal, you know.”

He shrugged as he reached for another article of clothing from her basket. “I just like things to be—”

“Perfect and precise?” She cut in.

“Neat and orderly.” He corrected, perfectly folding a pair of jeans. “Keeps my mind, you know, neat and orderly.”

She’s noticed. He always picked up after her. Always put her shoes neatly on the shoe rack by the door when she left them haphazardly in the middle of his livingroom floor. Folded the wet towels she left on his bathroom floor. He was always wiping; always sweeping; always cleaning something that seemed clean already. Sydney wondered if he had OCD. “Michelin mode.” she said, nodding. “Well, if you ever quit being a Chef you’ll be a shoe in at the Gap.”

He laughed. “Shut up.”

Her phone pinged and she picked it up, smiling as the picture of her dad’s roast popped up. “He did it.” She said, showing Carmy the picture.

Carmy leaned forward to get a better look. “Nice presentation.”

Sydney smiled proudly. “He’s learning.” She texted him how delicious it looked and how nice his presentation was.

“You’re close to your dad.” He stated and she nodded with a small smile.

“Yeah. It’s been just the two of us since I was little.”

Carmy nodded in understanding as he folded another one of her shirts. “Your mom?”

Sydney shrugged slightly. “She died when I was four. She had Lupus.” She watched as surprise crossed his features and he shook his head.

“Syd—” He trailed off when she held up her hand.

“It’s okay. Really. It was so long ago.”

“Okay.” he said softly. “Do you remember her?”

If Sydney closed her eyes, she could vaguely make out the outline of her mother, could feel her fingers in her hair as she hummed a tune Sydney couldn’t remember. “Not really.” She answered. “It’s not like something I get sad about—It’s—I do things to feel closer to her. Like wear her clothes and jewelry for example.”

Carmy slipped his hand into her own as he spoke. “My dad died when I was young. I hardly remember him either.” He shrugged as he smiled wryly. “Though from the sounds of things, it’s probably better I didn’t.”

Sydney squeezed his hand in understanding. “Your mom?” She asked gently. “Are you close to her?”

“No.” he said immediately. He shrugged. “I’m not sure she’s someone you get close to?”

Sydney nodded in understanding though she wanted to hear more. “You have siblings?”

“A sister. Natalie.” He said. “And a brother. Mikey.”

“And in birth order you’re?”

“The youngest.” He answered softly.

There was something in his voice, a discomfort she could hear but she pressed on. “Are you close?”

Carmy folded the last pair of jeans with a sigh. “I mean—sure? Nat and I—we—talk. She makes sure I’m okay. Mikey—” He trailed off, his expression shutting down.

Sydney gently raised his arm and placed it around her shoulders, snuggling closer to him. “Mikey?” she gently prompted, kissing his cheek when he pulled her closer.

“We were close,” He started. “I thought we were. But he shut me out for some reason. He runs a restaurant, you know? Didn’t want me to be a part of it.”

Sydney laid her head against his shoulder as she hummed in understanding. “Is he the one you’re trying to prove something to?”

“Yeah.” He answered softly. His fingers caressed her arm. “I don’t know why it’s just—he’s a fucking asshole.”

Sydney entwined her fingers with his own. “You don’t mean that.”

He nodded. “Things would probably be a little easier if I did. But no, I don’t. He is an asshole though.”

Sydney pulled away from him, suddenly straddling his thighs. She held his hand to her heart. “Thanks for sharing.”

He nodded. “You too.” His expression turned grateful. “Thank you for listening.” He raised his hand while cupping her cheek.

“Thanks for folding my clothes.” She said and he nodded with a smile.

“Anytime.” His thumb caressed her bottom lip.

She kissed his hand, her gaze turning mischievous as she asked. “Are you ready to compare those notes?”

October

Carmy was used to leading a carefully controlled and structured life while living in Manhattan. Nearly everything he did was a part of the routine and structure he built and fortified to keep him sane within the chaos. He was satisfied with the way things were. Satisfaction was enough with the work he was doing at Empire. It didn’t matter if he didn’t have friends. It didn’t matter if he didn’t explore anything beyond creating a dish. He didn’t go out. He didn’t have fun. He didn’t laugh and he barely ever smiled. He was fine living in a shell. He was fine with it all.

Then he met Sydney.

She burst into his life like a wave of color. Yellows and oranges; bright blues and reds. He hadn’t been planning on going to the funeral at Evergreen, but with the way Roger had described Sydney, Carmy found himself oddly curious with the woman. This was odd because he hardly ever let his mind be curious in that way. But then he met her. Her soft welcoming smile and almond shaped amber eyes nearly made him stop breathing.

When she spoke to him, he found he could breathe again. The on edge feeling that constantly followed him like a dark cloud seemed to dissipate. When she told him she had tried the Hamachi dish, he knew it was something he couldn’t ignore.

Mikey would say it was a sign.

Now he had a new routine, within his old one. Spending his spare time with Sydney. Getting to know all he could about her. Her quirks (she had plenty.) Her likes and dislikes. Her curiosity. Sharing the kitchen with her. Letting her know parts of himself; The parts he didn’t share with others and the parts he didn’t know existed.

Everything about her made him buzz with electricity, with feeling and desire. A desire to laugh more. A desire to create more experiences with her. A desire beyond being a Chef even though that was one of the most important reasons for being to him. He wasn’t just alive anymore, he was living.

He was also drawing again.

He didn’t remember when he had stopped, but he knew it had something to do with Empire. If he let himself think about it too deeply, he would contend with the fact that being at Empire is sucking the life from him. He had given up everything for it. But he was drawing again, regaining a taste for creativity and color. It all started with knowing it was Sydney who ate his Hamachi dish. Being able to connect with a fellow chef; someone who understood what he was doing with himself was—refreshing and reignited the excitement he’d lost.

He was drawing now, in fact, sitting up against Sydney’s headboard, watching her as she slept; the quiet scratching of his pencil the only sound heard outside of her soft breathing. She was exhausted, he knew. She’s been working back in the kitchen for a few weeks now and he could tell she was still adjusting to the rush and stress of the job.

He put his pencil against his lips as she began to stir, brown eyes fluttering open and blinking rapidly up at the ceiling.

“Good morning.” He greeted her softly. “Sleep well?”

She sighed as she nodded, gazing sleepily at him. “I was dreaming about Sauerkraut. So much kraut.” She stretched a bit, lifting her arms and arching her back languidly. “I forgot how aching it can be working in the kitchen.”

Carmy smiled. “You’re at Gabriel Kruether. Two stars. You love it?”

“Mmm. I don’t hate it. I mean, I knew you could do anything with Kraut, but I didn’t know yah know?” She noticed the sketchbook in his hand. “What are you drawing up this time, Pablo?”

He shrugged. “Just something that looks delicious.”

Her expression turned curious. “Oh? Can I see?”

Carmy hesitated, unsure of what she would think or say if she saw his drawing.

“I’m always impressed with your art, Carm.” She reassured him, lifting her hand. “Give it, please?”

Carmy passed her the sketchbook, biting his lip as she stared at herself on the page, eyes wide with surprise. He watched as she ran her fingers against the page. “What do you think?” he asked, needing to know.

“It’s beautiful.” She said, sitting up to press her lips to his. She pulled away to look at the drawing again. “I’m not sure I look this hot sleeping.” She reached for her phone and took a picture of the drawing. She laid her head against his shoulder as she handed him back his sketch book.

“It’s how I see you.” he said simply. He closed the book and placed it onto the nightstand before wrapping his arms around her. “Even when you snore.”

She gasped. “I do not snore.”

“You do.” Carmy laughed as she lifted one of her pillows and hit him in the face. He laid back as she climbed on top of him “Don’t worry it’s cute.”

She kissed him to shut him up before pulling away to smile down at him. “Happy Halloween.” She murmured. “We have a busy day ahead.”

They were going to a baseball game this afternoon, Mets versus White Sox, and a Halloween Party thrown by Roger. “We do,” He answered, tilting his head as she kissed his throat. “Do you want breakfast?”

Sydney hummed in agreement. “I want pancakes.” She gently bit his ear.

Carmy’s eyes fluttered closed as desire rolled through him. His hands moved to her waist. “Ricotta pancakes with oranges and honeycomb butter?” He grinned as she squirmed against him. “Yeah?” he prompted, turning over so she was caged beneath him.

She nodded and answered in a breathy tone. “Sounds delicious.” Her hands caressed a trail along his sides. “But everything you make is delicious.”

They just watched each other quietly, and Carmy became acutely aware of the lack of anxiety inside; the peacefulness he felt. His eyes closed as Sydney caressed his cheek.

“What?” She asked softly.

Carmy’s eyes slipped open. He was content, he realized, but, as usual, he couldn’t find the right words to articulate himself. He kissed her once more, hoping he could put all he felt into this kiss.

8

“Okay, close your eyes!” Sydney called from the bathroom.

Carmy, sitting on one of the love seats, did as she requested. Halloween is her favorite holiday, she’d told him a few weeks ago and had demanded they shop for costumes together. The last time he had dressed up for Halloween, he’d been thirteen years old and that was a memory he didn’t want to revisit.

“Are you ready?” She called.

“Yes, Sydney.” He called back. He tilted his head as he heard her heels against the wooden floor.

“Okay. You can look now.”

Carmy did as she instructed, slowly smiling as she stood in front of him dressed in a yellow and black striped halter dress with a short black tutu at the bottom. On her legs she wore fishnet thigh highs and black heels on her feet. She made a slow turn, the antennae headband’s springs swinging back and forth as she moved, putting the yellow wings on display. “You look beautiful.”

She smiled as she turned to face him again. “Thank you so much, but I was looking for sexy.”

Carmy stood from the chair, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Well now that you mention it.” He kissed her throat, breathing in the sweet fruity scent of her perfume.

Sydney slipped from his arms. “Uh uh, No. You’re going to seduce me again if I let this continue.”

Carmy shook his head as she moved around him to reach for his costume accessories. His eyes scanned her long legs before landing on her black painted nails which were doing odd things to him. “Look who’s talking.” He said, letting her place the hat on his head. He took the bladed glove from her hands and put it on.

Sydney placed a small kiss on his lips. “You’re the hottest Freddy Krueger on the planet.”

88

The party was held in Nomad and Sydney could only stare in surprised delight as they entered the beautiful and enormous lobby. “Do you see this shit?” she whispered as they approached the concierge desk.

“Welcome to Halcyon. Are you here for Mr. Cruz’s Halloween gathering?”

Carmy and Sydney looked at each other before nodding.

“Great. Just let me check your temperature. I’ll also need your Ids, Your vaccine card, or your negative covid test results.”

They both handed over the requested items, unsurprised by Roger’s strict adherence to guidelines and his thoroughness to ensure the safety of his partygoers. It was a skill he carried over from his work in the industry. “You’re all set. Just head down that hallway there to the private elevator and it’ll take you straight to the Penthouse.”

“A concierge and a private elevator? I feel so fucking fancy.” Sydney whispered as they walked down the long hallway toward the penthouse elevator. She shrugged when Carmy raised an eyebrow at her. “I know I side eye bougie shit sometimes but it isn’t bad to like fancy things.”

“No shit.” Carmy pressed the button, and the doors slid open with a loud ding. “How did Roger get to throw a party at a place like this again?” They both stepped on.

“He’s seeing some super wealthy banker he met at Empire. His sugar daddi. With—”

“An I not a Y.” They both said at the same time.

The elevator dinged once more and the doors opened, revealing a beautiful foyer. Carmy smiled with amusement as Sydney gasped, her mouth hanging open as they walked further into the penthouse. It was beautifully decorated in spooky decorations and orange LED lighting. The penthouse was a palace in the sky, a majestic fortress of eleven-foot ceilings, floor to ceiling windows. The walls were vast expanses of crystal. The floors were polished marble, cool and smooth, mirroring the brilliance of the chandeliers that hung like constellations from the ceiling.

Carmy held tight to Sydney’s hand as they moved further into the living space, the music loud but not obnoxiously so.

“Sydney!” Roger, who was dressed like Little Bo Peep, appeared in front of them had wrapped his arms around them in a tight hug. He pulled back. “A sexy Bee! Sydney, you look good, girl. Carmen, I’m so glad you came! Freddy Krueger, classic.” He pointed across the room. “The food is over there. The weed, if you partake, is over there, there’s an open bar, and the photobooth is over on that side of the room. Have fun!”

“Can we take pictures?” Sydney asked, already pulling him toward the booth. They waited patiently for their turn and when they were up Sydney pulled him in front of the camera. “You ready?” she asked, her tone excited.

Carmy could only follow her lead, her joy infectious. He found himself laughing along with her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. She led him in a few poses, the last one of her planting a kiss on his lips.

Afterward they went to grab the prints, and Sydney handed him a copy. “We look young and hot.”

He smiled. “You do.” He corrected her.

“Sydney!” Roger called, “Come dance with me.”

Sydney looked at Carmy. “Do you wan—”

“No.” he said quickly. He gestured toward one of the couches. “I’ll be over there. Have fun.” He smiled as Roger pulled her onto the dance floor. He drew the line at dancing, because he frankly wasn’t good at it, but he could watch her dance all night. She waved at him, and he waved back, feeling weirdly bereft suddenly.

‘Because you know you don’t deserve any parts of her.’

He shifted in his seat as the thought crossed his mind. It wasn’t the first time he’s had such a thought. He tried not to entertain this thought, but he couldn’t help himself, he was a glutton for punishment. Sydney is near perfect in his eyes, and he knew, at least intellectually, that no one can be perfect, but to him Sydney is perfect. She would laugh at him if he told her she was. She would get embarrassed if he persisted. She did that a lot when he complimented her. But to him, her perfection was in the way she could laugh so easily. Perfection In the way her presence brings a sense of comfort and warmth around anyone she encounters. Perfection in the love she puts into her cooking with the sole purpose of making someone happy. There was so much more, but those were the three that stood out the most.

The core issue is, he was absolutely flawed and not a compliment to someone like her.

He hoped; he prayed she wouldn’t notice.

Before he spiraled into a full-blown brooding episode, Sydney slipped onto his lap, quieting the doubtful thoughts once more. “Are you having fun, Carmy?”

Carmy wrapped his arms around her waist. “I liked watching you dance.” He answered smiling as she grinned down at him. “You looked good.”

Sydney brushed her nose against his own. “Thank you. Are you going to dance with me before the night is through?”

Carmy kissed her. “With the right kind of motivation.” he answered, grinning at her raised eyebrows from his boldness. It was her fault. She made him feel brave sometimes. Everything quieted in his mind as they gazed at one another. The sounds of the party became muffled, and a haze of peacefulness seemed to envelop him.

This was his favorite part.

Roger plopped down beside them, effectively breaking the spell. “You two are adorable.” He lifted two perfectly rolled blunts and handed one to Sydney. “Your special occasion blunt, Miss Adamu.” He handed her a lighter. “Sydney only smokes on very special occasions.” Roger explained to Carmy.

“Ahh.” Carmy said in understanding, watching with interest as Sydney lit her blunt. “And it being Halloween?”

Sydney inhaled before slowly exhaling. “A very special occasion.” She grinned. “Shotgun with me?”

Carmy nodded. “Sure.” He watched as Sydney inhaled before leaning forward to inhale the smoke she blew into his mouth. He slowly blew the smoke out of his nose. “It smells like nuts and fruit.”

Sydney smiled as nodded. “It’s called Jungle cake and of course you can smell all that.”

He shrugged. “The size of my nose has to be good for something.” He leaned forward for another shot gun, blowing smoke out of his nose as Sydney leaned forward for a deep kiss.

“I like your nose.” She replied when she pulled away.

His head felt like it was filled with air. A pleasant buzz made him feel lightheaded and a little dizzy in a way that had nothing to do with anxiety. His eyes closed briefly as Sydney’s fingers stroked through his hair.

“You still with me, Carm?” she asked softly and he nodded with a small chuckle.

He opened his eyes, surprised to see Sydney watching him with a soft gaze. “I’m good.”

“I think you may have broken him, Sydney.” Roger commented.

Carmy laughed again. “I’m fine. Really.” He smiled as Sydney caressed his cheek. His insides felt light, almost like he wanted to laugh, but he had enough self-control control not to.

“Carmy, love, I’ve been meaning to tell you something really important.”

Carmy nodded as he looked at Roger. “Okay.”

Roger reached for his hand. “Everyone, and I mean everyone knows that you’re better than Chef David.”

Carmy scoffed with a shake of his head. “I’m not.”

Roger shook his head. “No. No, but you are. So much better than he is. You’re kind and more creative and a better fucking Chef. Like, you’re so good at cooking. He fucking hates that fact. That’s why he’s such an asshole. You’re going to keep rising and he’s going to keep being a fucking fossil.” Roger patted his hand. “He’s a fucking grape dying on the vine and he’s afraid of you.”

Carmy shook his head, surprised by Roger’s words. “Does-do people actually feel that way?”

Roger nodded. “Fuck yes! Everyone does. Carmy you’re a fucking genius Chef and everyone believes in you. Just ask Syd. She’s a total Chef groupie for you.”

Sydney nodded as she put the blunt into the ashtray Roger passed her. “I’m a total groupie.”

Roger nodded and squeezed his hand. “Just—don’t forget my words next time Chef David does some disrespectful shit.”

Carmy nodded once. “Got it…uh—thanks.”

“Alright, I have to be seen.” He stood up, reaching for his crook. “See yah later.” He said, making his way back into the crowd. “Here comes Big Bo Peep bitches!”

“I love him.” Sydney said with a laugh. “He always gets really sentimental when he’s high.”

“He is pretty great.” He said, glancing back at Sydney.

“All that stuff he said is true, you know?”

Carmy knew he was good, but better than Chef David?

“Is Chef David really that bad?” she asked curiously.

“He’s worse, actually.” Carmy answered nonchalantly, smiling reassuringly when Sydney gave him a look of concern. He shook his head. “I’m kidding.” He tilted his head. “Chef groupie?”

Sydney rolled her eyes. “Forget I ever said that.”

Carmy knew there was more to it. “Tell me. Explain?”

She scrunched up her nose, her face turning slightly embarrassed. “Fine. I may have had a miniscule crush on you, Chef Carmen.”

“You did?” he asked with shock and a bit of delight. “You—why?”

Sydney was shy as she answered. “At first it was admiration for your food.” She shrugged. “You are well known in this industry, and I have followed your work—Anyway, it’s more than that now. I’m too high to go into detail, but I’ve been happy—with you. Being with you.”

“I’m happy too.” He agreed, the words coming easier for once. He cupped her cheek. “Really, fucking happy.” It was true and he couldn’t believe she was happy and with him no less.

They kiss, mouths opening to one another so their tongues can touch and taste. He groaned against her lips, the haze from the weed intensifying everything. He buried his fingers into her soft hair, pulling her closer with a hungry groan as her body suddenly squirmed against him. She pulled away first, giggling as his mouth chased her own. She slipped from his lap and reached her hand out for his own.

“Let’s find a bedroom?”

Carmy, feeling like he was in a trance, followed Sydney down the long hallway. She opened the first door they chanced upon.

“Hey!”

“Yikes. Sorry.” Sydney apologized, with a laugh. She yanked on his hand. “Come on.” They went to the second door, only to find it locked, the loud moaning coming from the other side an indication of what was going on in there. “Shit.” She muttered with frustration.

“Where are we going?” he asked with amusement, following her to the third door. “Third doors a charm?” He asked as she opened It to reveal an opulent bathroom. “Wow.”

“Fuck it, this Is perfect.” She closed and locked the door before walking toward him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck to resume kissing. The kisses turning passionate within seconds, hands roaming all over each other. Carmy let his hands slip to her ass and he squeezed, swallowing her moan of pleasure. They stumbled across the bathroom, turning and switching positions so he could lift her onto the sink counter.

He pulled away from her lips so he could gaze at her. Her face showed pure desire, lids lowered from both the weed and her wanting him. Fuck. Carmy couldn’t help but be in awe of her. “You’re beautiful.” He proclaimed softly.

Sydney kissed the corner of his mouth. “You are too.”

Carmy swallowed as he pressed his mouth to her own once more, kissing her until his lungs burned. He pulled away to breathe, panting as his hands slipped up her thighs and underneath her tutu. He helped slide her lace panties down her legs, stepping even closer as she quickly undid his belt and black jeans with deft fingers. She slid his pants and briefs down, licking her hand so she could stroke his dick.

“Fuck.” He hissed, stepping closer. He placed his hand underneath her right knee and lifted her leg. “Syd—” He pleaded, needing to be inside of her.

“Carmy.” She breathed, hooking her left leg around his waist to pull him closer. “Please.”

He sunk into her with a quick thrust. Sydney wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him with a moan. It’s always like their first time; everything zeroing down to the heat and tightness surrounding him. He started thrusting into her, grasping her hip with one hand while lifting her other leg higher to thrust even deeper. He could feel himself falling apart already with Sydney’s moans fueling his pleasure and nearly weakening his self-control.

He pressed his lips to hers for a quick kiss, fucking her harder, her cries urging him on, making his own pleasure more intense. “You feel so good.” He whispered against her lips.

“Oh my god!” Sydney sobbed, body tensing as pleasure suddenly rippled through her.

“Fuck.” He groaned as she tightened around him, he glanced down to watch himself sliding into her and he moaned, pulling her closer, letting her wrap her legs around his waist as he chased his own climax. “Syd—” He trailed off with a long groan, his muscles tensing as wave after wave of pleasure poured through him.

He slumped against her, head finding her shoulder as they both fought to catch their breath.

“Damn.” Sydney laughed as he lifted his head. Their mouths met in a short kiss. “This bathroom is fucking amazing.”

Carmy chuckled, shaking his head as he looked around. “Shit. It really is.”

They both cleaned up as well as they could before helping each other dress. Before they exited the bathroom, Sydney pressed her lips to his. “Thank you for being spontaneous with me.”

Spontaneity was not something he excelled at they both knew. “It wasn’t that hard.” It wasn’t. Not with her, it wasn’t.

They exited the bathroom, and Sydney pulled him through the small crowd of dancing bodies until she found an empty spot in the corner of the dance floor. The Savage Remix featuring Beyonce was playing, but they simply pulled each other close and slowly swayed to the music despite its fast pace.

88

Freshly showered and in their PJs found them back where they started that morning, lying in Sydney’s bed at three in the morning. Carmy watched with quiet fascination as she decorated the pages of her scrapbook for the month of October. She liked to keep memories of her favorite moments each month, she had revealed to him. Her mom kept scrapbooks, he had learned, and she wanted to keep up the tradition and feel close to her.

He placed his chin onto her shoulder as she glued the sticker from the biergarten in Brooklyn Roger had dragged them to at the beginning of the month. The ticket stub from the Marvel film they went to see. The photos from the party earlier tonight, including the ones with Roger, and the drawing—his drawing.

“You printed that out?” he asked quietly.

“Mmhm.” she said softly, sighing when he kissed her shoulder. “I want to look at It whenever I have my I feel ugly days.”

“You have those days?” Carmy asked skeptically.

Sydney nodded as she closed the book and put away the rest of the decorations and sundries. “Every woman does.” She put the book onto the nightstand and tossed the folder of memories on top of it. “I’ll do the rest tomorrow.” She turned and wrapped her arm around him, snuggling into his embrace as he lay back against the pillows.

He reached for the tv remote. “What would you like to fall asleep to tonight?” he asked softly.

“The double Gs.” She answered.

He scrolled to The Golden Girls, her comfort show, he learned, and pressed the play button. Before Sydney, he would lie in bed for hours, agonizing over the day behind him and worried about the day ahead of him; the loneliness nearly suffocating him.

Sydney’s soft snores started ten minutes into the episode, and he glanced down with amusement. He turned the volume down low, leaned down, and kissed her scarf covered head before switching off the lamp and settling deeper into the pillows. He closed his eyes, hoping, wishing, and praying she wouldn’t see the real him.

November

“I’m fucking freezing.” Sydney complained.

“Well, you’re eating a bowl of ice-cream.” He’d made cream cheese strawberry ice-cream for dessert, and she was on her third bowl. “Want me to turn the heat on?”

Sydney shook her head, opting to put on the thick socks she asked him for earlier. “Nah. It’ll get too hot.” She finished off the rest of her cold treat before placing it onto the table. She watched with amusement as Carmy lifted the bowl from the table and moved into the kitchen to wash it.

“So…Friendsgiving.”

Carmy frowned with confusion as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry?”

Sydney tilted her head at him, eyes squinting a bit. Of course, he’s never heard of such a thing. “Thanksgiving, but with friends. I figured since we’re staying here for the Holiday, we could have a friendsgiving? Roger said his sugar Daddi has given us permission to have It at the castle in the sky.”

Carmy looked even more confused as he placed the bowl and spoon onto the drying rack before making his way back toward her. He sat down. “Wait—”

Sydney rolled her eyes. “Carmen, keep up. Thanksgiving, but with friends. Roger said we can have it at the penthouse.”

He nodded. “Got it. I’m keeping up. Okay, what are we doing?”

Sydney grinned. “Okay. So, we have to make a menu and buy decorations. Shit, I need my notebook.” She stood up, pausing as Carmy gently grasped her wrist. “What?” She asked by the look on is face. “What is it?” she asked as he gently pulled her back onto the couch.

“My head is spinning.” he said softly.

It was his code word for feeling overwhelmed. Sydney nodded and straddled his thighs. “Right. Sorry. I’m—moving too fast again, huh?” She knew he needed some time to settle into her spontaneity; to get comfortable with it.

Carmy nodded, reaching for her hand. “A little?” He said with a small shrug. “So—we’re hosting—what is it?”

“Friendsgiving.” Sydney said with a nod. “A small gathering of friends to celebrate Thanksgiving. About eight to ten people, I think? Roger and I did it last year, but it was just us and Jules. It’ll be you and I, Roger and his sugar daddi—”

“We should probably figure out his name.” Carmy cut in and Sydney nodded in agreement.

“Jules and her boyfriend and Oh! You should invite your cousin Michelle and Stevie.” She’d met the two last week after Carmy asked if she wanted to meet up with them for dinner.

Carmy nodded. “I think I can do that.” His hand caressed up her side. “We could deep fry the turkey?”

Sydney slowly smiled at him; glad he was coming around to the idea. “Oh, definitely.”

Carmy kissed her hand. “You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?”

Sydney nodded enthusiastically. “I’m so excited, but as long as you’re comfortable with this? I mean, Thanksgiving is in nine days.”

He nodded. “I’m comfortable.” He confirmed. “We can plan a menu in an hour.”

Sydney's face transformed with happiness. “Thank you.” She pressed the softest kiss to his lips, before slipping from his lap to grab her notebook from her bag. She moved back to the couch and snuggled into his side as he put his arm around her. “So, I was thinking four apps, and five sides?”

Carmy nodded. “Traditional pies and cakes?” he asked, and she nodded.

“What about creamy Mashed Potato and wild rice stuffed Mushrooms?”

“I like that.” Carmy agreed. “Pork sausage and sage stuffing?”

Sydney wrote that down. “Baked Mac and Cheese definitely.”

“Mmm.” He agreed. “You should make your pumpkin risotto. It’s really fucking good.”

Sydney smiled shyly as she wrote that down. “Thanks.”

“What?” Carmy asked. “You don’t believe me?”

Sydney drew a heart at the top of the page as she avoided his gaze. “I do believe you.”

He tilted his head. “But?”

Sydney shook her head. “No but.”

“You know you get shy or embarrassed whenever I compliment your food.” She nodded. “Why?”

She sighed as she tried to articulate why. “It’s not a validation thing.” She clarified before explaining.

He nodded. “Okay.”

“I respect your opinion as a Chef. You’re Chef Carmen Berzatto and when you compliment my food it just feels surreal to me. I mean, I know I’m good. I know it. I have no trouble patting myself on the back, but when Chef Carmen Berzatto compliments my skills. I—I get weird because I want to stay grounded.”

Carmy nodded in understanding. “I get that.” he said softly. “Wanting to stay grounded.
Do you—want me to stop?”

Sydney shook her head. “Fuck no. I also, really enjoy getting compliments from my boyfriend.”

Carmy’s eyebrows raised into his hairline. “I’m—I’m your boyfriend?”

‘Oh shit.’ Sydney thought. ‘I said that out loud, huh?’ She looked at Carmy, seeing his surprised expression. “Well—Yes. Is that okay?”

Carmy nodded vigorously. “Mmhmm. Yes, it’s more than okay.”

They sealed it with a simple kiss and Sydney was relieved there was no fanfare with this proclamation. It was just another natural comfortable transition which has been on brand for them so far.

“So, pumpkin risotto.” She said. “Roasted Brussel Sprouts?”

“Mmm. Honey Apple Ham. Bacon wrapped dates.”

Sydney grinned as she wrote down his suggestion. “Sounds like you’re getting excited.”

He gave her a small smile. “A little bit.”
8
“Roger zelled me the money for the supplies. I can’t believe his sugar daddi—”

“Edward.” Carmy reminded her as he grabbed a cart.

Sydney nodded. “Right. Edward the sugar daddi.”

Carmy gave her a look of amusement. “You do know you can’t call him that in person?” They moved down the aisle to find aluminum pans and foil.

“Yes, I am aware, but I was saying I can’t believe he’s bankrolling this.”

Carmy lifted the pan and put it back when it wasn’t the one he was looking for. “From what I understand it’s what Sugar Daddi’s do?”

Sydney handed him the pan she knew he was looking for. “Are you familiar with the arrangement?” she teased. She followed him as he rolled the cart toward the meat and poultry section.

He shrugged. “Well, I did pay for your doordash order the other night, so yeah, I have experience.”

Sydney spluttered as she giggled at his well-timed joke. “Oh, my—you’re not even that much older than me.”

Carmy leaned down to picked up a Turkey. “Two years is substantial.” He placed it into the cart and pushed the cart toward the Ham.

Sydney checked the items off her list. “You want me to start referring to you as Sugar Daddi then?”

Carmy thought for a moment. “Maybe only in private?”

Sydney slightly intrigued by the notion hummed in thought. “Well, now I can’t tell if you’re joking or not. I mean, I’ll do it. I’ll even change your name in my phone.”

Carmy smiled at her. “Let me think about that.” He held up the ham. “What do you think?”

“The size is good.” She said checking that off the list. They chose a few more items from the area for their appetizers before moving on. “Did your family have big Thanksgiving dinners?” She asked him.

He nodded. “Pretty much all the time.” They moved toward the baking aisle. “What about you?”

“My aunts usually host Thanksgiving and most of the family shows up. It’s nice. Though
we haven’t had one since the pandemic. I miss it.” She sighed wistfully. “Do you miss it?” She checked off the few items he put into their cart.

“Uh—no.” He laughed with a small shrug.

Sydney grabbed five-pound bag of flour. “Ahh. Was it bad?” she asked, ticking it off her list.

He sighed as he pushed the car further down the aisle. “Well, most of the time it either ended in screaming or tears. So, I’d say so. I—I haven’t been back in a long time.”

Sydney nodded in understanding. Feeling bad, he couldn’t remember having a good Thanksgiving with his family. She didn’t want to give him any platitudes or sappiness, but she quietly hoped she could give him a good memory. “That fucking sucks.” She said out loud.

He placed a box of baking soda into the cart. “Yeah, it does.” he agreed softly. He kissed her cheek. “Let’s go get some vegetables.”

She nodded. “Sure, Daddi.” She held up her hands when he gave her a slightly horrified look. “I know. That was a lot. I was just testing it out and I’ll probably never say it again.”

Carmy shook his head with a smile. “I kind of don’t believe you.” He wrapped his arm around her as he pushed the car with the other free hand.

“What?” She laughed. “I’m not that much of a menace.”

88
Sydney held the seasoned Turkey in her arms as Carmy pulled the shopping cart full of supplies into the Penthouse as the elevator doors slid open.

“Hello?” She called, smiling as Roger appeared in the foyer followed by a handsome older man. “Hi.” She greeted them.

Roger grinned as he took the Turkey from her hands. “Hey guys. This is Edward. Edward this is Sydney and Carmen.”

Sydney was surprised when he shook her hand. “It’s great to finally meet you, Sydney. I’ve heard so much about you and I’m looking forward to tasting your food.”

“Nice to meet you.” She replied. She watched as he shook Carmy’s hand next.

“Carmen,” He greeted his voice going fanboy. “Wow. I can’t believe you’ll be cooking in my kitchen. You’re a phenomenal chef.”

Sydney’s smile widened as Carmy started to look decidedly uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you and Uh—thank you.”

Edward nodded. “Make yourselves at home, please.” He spoke to Roger. “Babe, I’m going to make a few phone calls.”

Roger nodded. “Of course.” He turned back to his friends. “Let me show you the kitchen so you can start.”

“Roger,” Sydney said in sing songy tone as they moved into the kitchen.

“What girl?” He said as he placed the Turkey down onto the counter.

Sydney took her coat off. “Edward is—young?”

Roger rolled his eyes. “He just turned forty. How old did you think he’d be?” Roger will be thirty next month.

Sydney shrugged. “I don’t know. Way older? You’re not unknown to date guys in their fifties. You’re the one who called him your sugar daddi.”

“Lower your voice.” Roger said waving a hand. “It—It isn’t like that anymore.”

Sydney raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” She took the apron Carmy handed her.

Roger bit his lip. “The other older guys I’ve dated were all so slick and swagged up you know? Cool but assholes. But Ed, he’s so—nerdy and goofy and sweet and really kind—”

“Is he good in bed?” Sydney asked and Roger grinned. “Damn. Wait.” Sydney said. “Is your open relationship now closed up?”

Roger shrugged. “Yeah? It’s been ten months and now he wants to be exclusive. Like, he wants me to move in with him.”

Sydney’s eyes widened. “Shit.” she said with a shake of her head. “So, will you?”

“Hell yes.” Roger said with a shake of his head. “I’m happy. It’s nice to be with someone who doesn’t get on my fucking nerves.”

Sydney nodded. “It is.” She agreed, smiling. “I’m happy for you best friend. Does this mean we can come visit whenever we want to feel fancy?”

Roger grinned. “Thanks love and yes you both can come over anytime.”

Sydney bit her lip. “Do you— still call him daddi?”

Roger nodded. “Sure. Only in private.”

Sydney pursed her lips as she looked over at Carmy, who was busy unpacking the shopping cart. “You hear that Carmy?”

Carmy didn’t bother looking up. “I’m trying not to.” He answered and she rolled her eyes.

“He’s such a prude.” She muttered to Roger.

Roger grinned before using his expediter voice. “Okay, you two. I’ve let the guests know to arrive at three pm. Appetizers will be out by three-fifteen and dinner will be served at four-fifteen. I’ll prepare the dining area and let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” They both intoned.

Sydney thoroughly washed her hands and dried them before turning to watch Carmy set up stations around the kitchen. Her eyes scanned the large immaculate kitchen, feeling excited to share this moment with him. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and snapped a few pictures of him before going to wash her hands again.

She moved toward the kitchen island and began prepping with him. They were quiet as they worked, both going into chef mode; both working in perfect tandem to do the thing they loved together. The hours easily slipped by as they cooked. There was tasting and quiet compliments. Sometimes, Sydney found herself lost in watching Carmy work, always fascinated with the way his hands easily created art that’ll be consumed later, and damn if that wasn’t making her feel warm all over.

This time he caught her. “You good?” He asked as he prepared to fry the turkey.

She blinked. “Huh, oh—uh yep. Just—” She turned back to her work.

“Hey, come help me with this?”

She turned to see him placing the turkey onto the metal carriage so it could be fried. He had seasoned the Turkey the night before sharing the simple task with her because being in the kitchen was not only a part of their emotional intimacy but also a part of their foreplay. She stood beside him and placed her hands on the other side of the handle.

“Ready?” He asked and she nodded. They counted to three and lifted Turkey, slowly lowering it into the grease and watching with satisfaction as the bird began to fry.

Carmy closed and locked the machine. “Should be done in fifty-seven minutes. We’re nearly to the finish line.”

Sydney glanced at the time, surprised it was nearing two. “I didn’t even realize that much time went by.”

Carmy nodded as he reached for her hand. “Me either.” He pulled her in for a lingering kiss, surprising her. “I like watching you too, you know? I’m just better at hiding it.”

Sydney raised an eyebrow, surprised he’d known she was watching him and didn’t have the space to be embarrassed about it. She knew he watched her sometimes and whenever she caught him without him knowing it, it simply fueled the intensity of her feelings for him. She hugged him. “Okay, Daddi.” She pulled away to see his expression. “No?” She asked when he gave a face.

“Definitely no.” He answered with amusement.

Sydney shrugged with a sigh. “It’s not for everyone I guess.”

Carmy chuckled as he pulled her closer again. “I feel like this won’t be the only time you use that phrase with me.”

Sydney merely smiled before kissing him once more.

88

Sydney took pictures of their finished dishes, feeling pride in their hard work, and if she were honest, a little bit turned on. She watched as Carmy used a leaf shaped cookie cutter on the different types of cheeses they’d bought for the Charcuterie board they’d put together. “Nice touch.”

“Thank you.” He answered softly.

Sydney sighed. “I feel like I need a cigarette.”

He laughed as he continued to work. “We can share one later on.” He murmured.

“It smells delicious in here.” Roger commented as he made his way into the kitchen. He paused as he looked at the spread. “You two are amazing.”

He wrapped his arms around Sydney. “Thank you for putting in all this hard work. I love you.”

Sydney hugged him back, wrapping her arms around him. “I love you too. We’re a great team.”

“Carmy, get over here. Don’t try to avoid our hugging.” Roger ordered, reaching for his arm to pull him into their hug.

Sydney wrapped her arm around Carmy as Roger wrapped his long arms around both his friends.

88

Carmy briefly glanced around at the smiling faces as he passed the plate of sliced Turkey to Sydney who asked for an extra helping. He felt—odd. But in a good way. He was not used to having a good time during the holidays. It was nice. Nice to smile. Nice to feel calm. Nice to not have to walk on eggshells because things were unpredictable.

“This Pumpkin risotto Is amazing.” Edward exclaimed and everyone agreed.

“Sydney made it.” Carmy informed, smiling over at her, smile widening slightly as everyone gave her praise. He reached for her hand and gently squeezed.

“Thanks everyone.” She said with a proud smile.

Roger clinked his glass. “Okay, everyone. Why don’t we do the age old corny tradition of going around and sharing why we are grateful?” Everyone agreed and he nodded. “Sydney, let’s start with you.”

“Oh god, me? Alright. I’m grateful for food. The way it connects us—people from different walks of life can get together this way all because of food. I mean, look at us. It’s amazing.”

Everyone agreed and Sydney looked over at Carmy with an encouraging smile.

Carmy felt like a dear in headlights when everyone looked at him. “Uh—” he trailed off when he felt Sydney’s hand on his knee. The words flowed more easily. “I guess—I’m grateful for moments. Good moments. Being able to be a part of them.” He looked at Sydney who was watching him with a soft gaze. “To be able to create good moments.”

Everyone agreed and Sydney leaned over to kiss his cheek.

88

Carmy made his way out onto the balcony, cigarette in hand. “Hey.” He greeted.

Michelle looked over at him, her own cigarette in hand. “Hey, Carm.” She nodded to the skyline. “It’s an amazing view, isn’t it?”

Carmy nodded. “Yeah, it is.” He lit his cigarette. “Thanks for coming today.”

Michelle nodded. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss your cooking—” She smiled. “Or Sydney’s.” She smiled at him. “She’s lovely.” She reiterated like she had the first time she met her. “She’s perfect for you Carmy.”

A small smile surfaced on Carmy’s lips as he nodded. “Yeah, she is. She’s uh—she’s special.”

Michelle’s smile widened. “You’re happy.” She pointed out.

Hearing someone else say it made Carmy’s heart speed up in a way that had nothing to do with anxiety. He let his smile widen as he let himself feel the full scope of how happy he was with Sydney in his life. “I am happy.” He said aloud, shaking his head. “It’s fucking crazy.”

Michelle nodded. “It can be, but you deserve to be happy Carmy. You know that right? You’ve always deserved to be happy.”

Carmy shrugged. “I hope that’s true.”

Michelle reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “It is. If you let it be true. I’m so happy for you Carmen.”

“Thanks.” He said with a smaller smile. They both looked up as Sydney appeared in the doorway.

“Hey.” She greeted moving to his side.

“Hey.” He said, handing her the cigarette.

“Thank you. Roger wants us to play Pictionary and is trying to steal you from me because of your artistic abilities.”

“How dare he?” Michelle asked.

“Right?” Sydney said. “He’s going to try and make you feel guilty because we beat him and Jules the last time we played.”

“Carmy!” Roger’s voice called from inside.

Sydney handed him back his cigarette. “Don’t give in.” she ordered, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

He nodded. “I promise I won’t.”

Sydney’s gaze softened as she kissed his cheek. “We’re starting in five minutes.” She turned to walk back inside announcing her proclamation. “You should just give up now Roger. Carmy has already given his loyalty to me!”

“That isn’t fair, you’re sleeping with him!”

“That has nothing to do with it. It’s in my charm.”

“Charm my ass, Carmen, don’t let yourself be seduced by this woman!”

Carmy sighed in amused exasperation as he finished his cigarette. “I’m used to this. It’s a thing they do.” He explained.

“Ahh.” Michelle said in understanding. She finished her cigarette and looped her arm through his own. “Let’s head inside to your happiness.”

December

Sydney’s eyes slipped open, suddenly awakened by the feeling of something being off.

The space beside her was empty. She blinked blearily, eyes scanning the darkened bedroom slowly, somehow drying to develop night vision. Her eyes stopped at the edge of the bed, seeing a silhouette of who she could only assume was Carmy sitting there. “Carmy?” She whispered softly. “What are you—” She trailed off and reached over to switch on the beside lamp. The room illuminated with a golden glow, and she immediately crawled from underneath the covers toward him.

She touched his shoulder. “Carmy?”

His head was lowered, body tense and Sydney felt a wave of fear flow through her when he didn’t respond merely shook his head and reached up to briefly grip his hair. Confused and worried, she gently rubbed his back in circles as he suddenly struggled to control his breathing, clenching and unclenching his hands as he began to hyperventilate, tense body rocking back and forth.

Sydney’s worry increased. “Should I call—”

“No.” He cut in, “I just…. need to breathe….It’s a panic attack.”

Sydney nodded in understanding and reached for his right hand, pressing It to her chest. “Just—follow the rise and fall of my chest. Try to match my breathing?”

Carmy nodded and did as she instructed, breathing in and out, breath stuttering on the first few tries, but slowly began to even out the more he tried.

“It’s okay.” Sydney whispered as his breathing began to stutter and pick up in pace again. “Just breathe with me? In and out. Just like that.” It took a few more tries before he was able to match the calm in and out of her breathing. “Good Carmy.”

She gently kissed the side of his neck and pressed her nose into his shoulder. They sat that way for the next twenty minutes; gently breathing and gently swaying. “You want to try and lay back down?” She asked eventually and he nodded.

Carmy slipped underneath the covers and Sydney switched the lamp off before following his lead, laying her head against his chest, both sighing as he wrapped his arms around her. Sydney could feel the steady beat of his heart in her ear, and she let the sound lull her into the state of calm she needed.

“I’m sorry.” He said into the quiet. “I’m sorry. That was a lot.”

Sydney shook her head. “It was a lot for you.” He had been quiet when she showed up at his apartment, which wasn’t unusual, but his silence tonight had seemed different in that she could tell something was off with him. She’d asked him and he merely said he’d had stressful service but didn’t want to talk about it.

He reached for her hand, entwining their fingers. “It’s—I haven’t had one in a while. Ever since—I—I’ve met you.”

She squeezed his fingers, taking this information in. She had so many questions but didn’t want to overwhelm him. “Why do you have them?”

He was quiet for a long moment before telling her about his experience at Empire. She listened half horrified as he quietly told her how Chef David treated him. The things he says to him. The things he makes him say about himself.

“Carmy—” She trailed off when he suddenly kissed her fingertips.

“I’m fucked up, I know.”

Sydney shook her head. “No, you aren’t. Chef David is the fucked up one, Carm. I know executives can be assholes, but this—” She’s never experienced this kind of abuse in the kitchen. She has heard horrible things, but it’s not something she would ever stand for or put up with. “Why do you stay?” She asked.

“I have to. I—I can’t leave Empire. I am a better chef because of it.”

Sydney felt the sudden urge to shout. To scream. The desperation in his tone made her feel so angry and sad for him because he couldn’t see what she could see. What everyone could see. Still, she swallowed down the urge she felt to try and convince him otherwise. “Is that why you clean so much? Why you need things to be so orderly all the time?”

“Probably.” He answered softly. “It helps me. Being so structured. I feel in control when I am.”

Sydney nodded in understanding. “The Chaos.”

“The Chaos.” He confirmed.

“Are you happy at Empire?”

“No.” He answered softly. “But…it doesn’t matter. I’m excelling there. Regardless of—the things I’m told I am. The things he makes me repeat…it’s all true anyway.”

Sydney lifted her head. “No. That’s not true. It isn’t.” How could he think that was true? She knows it’s only been four months, but of all the things she knew about Carmy, him being a piece of shit isn’t one of them. “Carmy you can’t—”

“There’s another side to me, Syd.” He cut in quietly; tone desperate so she could understand. “It’s not good. I—I want you to—It has to be this way. It’s the only way. I have to be good. I have to.”

She kissed his hand. “Okay. I don’t understand yet, but I hope I can eventually. What do you need from me?” She asked.

“What do you mean?”

“How can I support you?” She asked, “I’m your girlfriend—” she trailed off when he cupped her cheek.

“You already do so much, Syd.” He sighed. “I’ve been happy since meeting you. It’s been enough for me. I have to be at Empire, but I leave there and you’re here. Do you—am I making sense?”

“Yes.” She answered. She wasn’t sure if it was the healthiest, but she was willing to be a support for him.

“Will you talk to me more about Chef David? When it gets too much?” There was no way in hell she was letting this go without revisiting it as much as they needed to.

“I can do that.” he said softly. “Thank you. For—helping me.”

“I’ll always help you when I can, Carmy.” She lay back onto his chest.

“I know.” He suddenly switched the television on. “Do you mind if I—”

She nodded. “Please do.” She knew sleep would be hard to fall back into considering tonight’s activities. They had been streaming old episodes of Barefoot Contessa on prime all week and she hummed in satisfaction when he continued the next episode.

8

It was unusual for Sydney to have the opportunity to watch Carmy sleeping. He usually was the first one awake and always let her sleep in, but she knew he partway did it because he was a weirdo who liked watching her sleep.

She was beginning to see the appeal. He looked so relaxed, and Sydney felt relieved about it. She knew she’d fallen asleep way before he did because every time, she’d woken up to check on him, he’d been wide awake.

Last night had been eye opening for her to say the least and Sydney was having a hard time getting over her shock about Carmy thinking he needed Empire. Sure, she knows people who stayed in toxic kitchens because it was a heavy hitter and they wanted the experience to put it on their resumes, but Carmen didn’t need any of that shit. He was a 2x James Beard Award winner, the youngest Chef to ever win such a prestigious award. Why did he think he needed Empire? Was it a security thing? A self-esteem thing? She needed to understand.

Shaking her thoughts, she ran her finger down his nose, smiling to herself as his eyes blinked open.

“Morning.” She greeted when his blue gaze looked up at her. She lifted the tray she’d placed onto the bedside table. “I’ve made you breakfast.”

“What time is it?” Carmy asked, slowly sitting up.

“Ten-thirty.” She said, placing the tray over his lap. She tilted her head as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Did you sleep okay?”

He nodded. “Eventually.” He said with a small shrug. “Did you?” he asked softly, and she nodded, slipping onto the bed next to him. He looked down at the tray, nodding toward the cover. “What’s under there?”

Sydney grinned as she lifted the cover, reading six triple stacked silver dollar pancakes with a strawberry on top. “Merry Christmas.”

Carmy cracked his first real smile as he stared down at his breakfast. “Santa hats.” He said, noticing the resemblance with the strawberry held on top with whipped cream and the tiny dot of whipped cream for the Pom-Pom. The hats were dusted with powdered sugar.

Sydney leaned against his shoulder as she pointed toward the different syrups, they could dip the pancakes in. “Strawberry, blueberry, and maple.”

Carmy lifted his fork. “It’s great. Thank you.” He kissed her. “Merry Christmas.”

Sydney and her dad decided it was better for her to stay home for the holiday due to the winter Covid surge. She was sad considering she hasn’t seen her dad face to face for nearly two years, but glad she was able to spend the holidays with Carmen. “How are you feeling?” she asked as she speared a Santa hat.

Carmy shrugged. “A little drained. It—It’s usually how it is afterward.”

Sydney nodded in understanding. “Do you need more rest?”

“I could always use more rest, but I think this cup of coffee will give me a boost.” He lifted the cup and took a sip.

Sydney had to physically control herself from snuggling up to his side. She felt weirdly needy and protective because yesterday was fucking scary, and she was just now realizing how much seeing Carmy that way affected her. Instead, she focused on eating while wondering how she could bring up the topic of what he’d admitted to her last night.

“Thank you.” He said once more, placing the tray onto the bedside table before wrapping his arms around her.

Sydney buried her face into his shoulder, taking in the comfort he was offering.

“I feel like you should be more excited today. You said Christmas was tied with Halloween as your favorite holiday.”

Sydney nodded against his shoulder. “I’m super excited but also—” She lifted her head. “Worried about you.” She sighed as he caressed her back.

“I know, but don’t—”

“Don’t tell me not to worry.” Sydney said, lifting her head with a small frown.

“I’m okay.” He said softly. “I’ve survived there for so many years already.”

Sydney lifted her head again so she could study him, wanting to find something to argue with but knew her reasoning would fall on deaf ears. She took a deep breath before kissing the corner of his mouth. “Let’s exchange gifts?” She asked, changing the subject.

He nodded in agreement. “I’ll head in the bathroom and meet you in the living room?”

88
Sydney had taken it upon herself to decorate Carmy’s apartment, both she and Roger pulling him into the festivities of decorating a tree and hanging lights in his window. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the holidays, but she noticed he made sure to plug in his tree and lights every day and even took it upon himself to buy the two of them matching stockings which he hung above the entryway of his kitchen.

“Are we opening them together or taking turns?” He asked, placing his neatly wrapped gift onto her lap.

“Take turns.” Sydney decided and he nodded.

“You go first.” He said, smiling as Sydney was already pulling at the wrapping paper.

Sydney ran her fingers across the letters on the box as the rest of the wrapping paper fell away. Scarfos it read. “From Copenhagen?” She glanced at Carmy before biting her lip and pulling off the lid. She gasped as her eyes caught sight of the first scarf.

She gently picked it up and unfolded it, gasping at the beautiful design. It was a pretty vase with carnations inside of it. “It’s—you showed me this drawing.” She looked at him briefly before reaching for the next scarf which had a polka dot design. He’d shown her this pattern in his sketch book, she remembered, asking her to choose which pattern she liked most. She picked up the next design, which was pale violet and covered in forget-me-nots, the same flowers tattooed on his hand. “Carmy, these are beautiful.”

He bit his lip as he watched her. “The silk scarfs are for sleeping and the cotton silk are for the kitchen.”

There were six in total, and Sydney looked at him with surprise. “You showed me these drawings before—you designed these.”

He nodded. “You like them?”

Sydney nodded, stunned he’d gotten her something so personable and beautiful. He’d asked her one week in November, showing her different drawings and patterns, asking her opinion on them. She hadn’t thought anything of it, but at the time, felt delighted he wanted her opinion regarding his art. “I love it.” She leaned over and kissed him. She gently folded the scarves and placed them back into the box. She placed the lid back and ran her fingers across the label on the box. “Are these really all the way from Copenhagen?”

“Mmhmm.” He said. “It’s my favorite place.”

Sydney caressed the box again. “Can you tell me about it? What it was like for you being there?” He’d shown her his drawings from there, but she wanted to hear more.

“It’s beautiful.” He said. “I can only identify two parts of my life where I’ve felt truly peaceful inside. Being with you and being there. It was so—peaceful. Natural. The Foraging. The flowers were my favorite. It was literal cooking in peace. I found my place there.”

Sydney ran her fingers across his tattoo. “I’d love to go someday.”

Carmy reached for her hand. “I’m going to take you someday.”

Sydney grinned as she leaned over for a quick. “Thank you.” She nodded toward his gift. “Your turn.”

Carmy carefully unwrapped his gift to reveal a leather-bound sketch book. He ran his fingers across his initials.

Sydney watched his expression. “I saw you were running out of pages in your sketchbook.” She explained as he picked up the package of colored pencils. “The store clerk said they’re Polychromos, whatever that means.”

“It means they’re acid-free, waterproof, smudge free and hardly has a wax finish.” He answered, opening the box to run his fingers across the pencils. “I’m so excited to use these.” he said, glancing at her with a smile. “Thank you so much, Sydney.” He leaned over to press his lips against hers. “Merry Christmas.”

Sydney pressed herself even closer, moving to straddle him as the kiss quickly turned deeply passionate.

December 31st/January 2022

“Behind.”

Sydney looked up from the mixing bowl as Carmy touched her hip as he passed by her. “Roger and Eddie should be here in twenty minutes.”

He nodded absently as he placed the cooked steak on the wooden board so it could rest.

They were celebrating New Years Eve at her apartment, having a late-night dinner to bring in the New Year. Carmy had been quiet since showing up, she noticed, and she had an inkling as to why. “Hey, can you taste this dressing for the salad for me?”

“Of course.” He stood behind her, opening his mouth as she lifted the spoon to his lips. He hummed. “It’s fire, Syd.”

She tasted a spoonful herself. “You’re right.” She smiled as he suddenly wrapped his arms around her, leaning back against him. She hummed as he kissed her throat. “Was service tough tonight?”

He nodded. “It was shit, yes.”

She turned in his embrace, burying her face into his shirt. “I wish you would leave there.” She mumbled into his chest.

His hands caressed her back as he nodded. “I know.” He said softly. “I-I’ve been thinking about it.”

Sydney lifted her head, her gaze hopeful. “Really?” She asked, her tone hopeful.

Carmy nodded once more. “I know it’ll make you happy.”

She frowned. “It’s about what makes you happy Carmy. I just worry about you is all.”

He caressed her cheek. “I’ve been trying to imagine what it would be like for me If I wasn’t there.” He shrugged slightly. “Where would I go?”

“You could go anywhere.” Sydney said. “I’m serious.”

Carmy ran his finger down her nose. “I know you are.”

She gave him a sly smile. “You could probably start your own shit.”

“Yeah? Be a rebel like you?” He brushed his nose against her own. “I’ve thought about it. A few years ago.” He sighed. “I wanted to do it with Mikey but—” He trailed off with a shrug.

She kissed his chin. “You could, you know? Of course, as things continue to improve through this pandemic.”

He gave her a soft peck on the lips. “I’ll make you, my CDC.”

Sydney’s eyes widened. “What? I—No you can’t.”

He tilted his head. “I can do whatever I want with my hypothetical restaurant. I’ve seen your work, Sydney. I’ve tasted your dishes. You’re excellent. So yes, you’ll be my CDC.”

Sydney smiled up at him, stunned by his words. “I would love that.” She admitted, burying her face into his chest once more.

He tightened his hold around her. “I would love it too.”

Sydney’s stomach tingled with the mere idea of sharing a kitchen with him. “What would you call this hypothetical restaurant?”

“The Bear.” He answered after a while.

8

“We have sixty seconds!” Eddie announced as he put his hat on.

They decided to ring in the New Year on the rooftop, huddled together to watch the fireworks.

Carmy wrapped a scarf around Sydney’s neck. “You warm enough?” He asked and she gave him an amused smile.

She only complained it was cold once and he’d given her his scarf even though she had one on already, “Yes, Carmy. Thank you.” She lifted a hat and placed It onto his head, smiling at his frown. “You look adorable.” She turned, putting her back to him so she could take a selfie.

“Fifteen seconds!” Roger announced.

“Ten!”

Sydney turned in Carmy’s embrace, feeling stuck in his gaze for all the right reasons.

“Seven!”

She was so excited for the year ahead; excited about what was to come. Excited for her career. Excited to continue to build on her relationship with Carmy.

“Four!”

This relationship, that was opening her heart in a way she never thought possible.

“Two!”

“Happy New Year.” Carmy murmured before kissing her.

Sydney wrapped her arms around his neck as she returned his kiss, both pulling away as the fireworks started. “Wow.” She mumbled with a smile. She looked back at Carmy, unsurprised to see him still watching her. God, she was about to say something risky; possibly crazy because it’s only been five months. She caressed his cheek. “I love you.”

Shock crossed his features. “You—” He shook his head. “I—You love me?”

“Well, yes.” She said softly, tilting her head. “Do—”

“Yes,” He cut in, nodding vigorously, “fuck, yes. I love you.”

Sydney’s laugh was swallowed by his kiss.

February
Carmy had walked for two straight hours all the way to Sydney’s apartment building, mind anything but numb. He paused at the entrance, swallowing back the sudden urge he felt to scream. He needed Sydney. He needed to have her in hiss arms, burying himself, surrounding himself, losing himself with all of her because he was going to break.

Sydney’s eyes slipped open as her phone started to vibrate on her nightstand. She blinked blearily as she picked it up, frowning as Carmy’s name flashed on the screen. It was one am, and she quickly sat up as she answered.

“Hey. What’s up? You never answered me from earlier, I figured you were stacked in the kitchen.”

There was silence on the other end before Carmy spoke in a voice so soft she nearly had to strain to her him. “Can you buzz me in?”

She sat up, alarmed. “Of course. I—” she frowned when she realized he’d hung up. She slipped from bed and moved through the apartment to the front door. She buzzed him in and opened the door, listening as he walked up the two flights of stairs, her eyes widened with concern as she spotted him. He looked….haunted. It was the only way to describe it. “Hey.” She greeted as he slipped past her. She quickly locked up before turning and following him as he stood in the middle of the living room, hands shoved into his pockets. “What’s wrong?” She asked, tone concerned.

She moved into his space when he didn’t answer. “Carmy?” She asked, placing her hand onto his cheek, flinching when she realized how cold his skin was. “You’re freezing.” She said softly.

“I—I’ve just been walking around after—” he trailed off, breath stuttering and hitching. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around her. “I just—I need to feel you. Please?”

She wrapped her arms around him, frown deepening as he held her in a tight embrace. “What is it?”

He didn’t answer, instead began kissing her with desperate, fervent kisses. “Please.” He whispered against her lips. “I just—” he moved forward, and Sydney shuffled backward down the hall toward her bedroom. Her hand pushed his coat off his shoulders before pulling away. She needed to catch her breath.

Sydney watched as he began to undress, following his lead as she could feel his desperate need for comfort, for her comfort. She met him halfway, kissing him just as fervently; giving him what he needed. Pulling away, she reached for his hands and pulled him onto the bed. She lay back against the pillows, pulling him into her arms. “I’ve got you.” She whispered, letting him fall into her, letting him push into her.
8

Twenty minutes later found Sydney holding Carmy’s weight, not bothering to complain, like she usually did, that he was squishing her. The sex had been…intense. He clung to her in a way he never has and Sydney knew she could only wait patiently until he revealed what put him so ill at ease.

Something wet slipped down her shoulder blade and she frowned as she heard Carmy sniffle. “Carmy?” She whispered, “Are you—” She trailed off as he shook his head. Her frown deepened as she heard him sniffle again. “What’s wrong?” She asked. He mumbled something against her shoulder. “What?”

“Mikey’s dead.” He whispered; voice broken. “He—he killed himself.”

Sydney went rigid with shock. “Oh my god. Carmy, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what to do.” He croaked, shaking his head. “I can’t—I can’t handle this.”

Sydney felt her own tears start to fall, crying with him the only thing she could do. She tightened her hold on him as he began to outright sob in her arms. He cried until he couldn’t anymore, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sydney kept watch the rest of the morning, unable to let her own exhaustion take place due to the shocking turn of events. At some point they’d both turned to their sides, arms wrapped around each other. She ran her fingers through his hair, glancing over at the window as the sun slowly made an appearance. She watched as his brow furrowed and she knew he would start stirring soon. Her thumb caressed his teaf stained cheek.

“I have to go back.” He mumbled.

Sydney nodded. “I know.”

March

Sydney’s eyes slipped open as her alarm sounded. She sighed heavily to herself as she wondered why she felt as though she had a hangover. She hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary the day before. She did her laundry, slogged her way to work, and returned home deeply exhausted. She’d slept damn near ten hours and still felt like she could sleep another ten.

She stretched her body, yawning loudly as another wave of exhaustion hit her. Why the fuck did she feel so sluggish? She reached for her phone, groaning to herself when she noticed she didn’t get a response from Carmy. She had spoken to him at least once every day leading up to the funeral which had happened on the fourth, but on and after that day she hadn’t heard from him since.

Sydney knew he was deep in his grief, and she hoped he was okay. She kept replaying the last conversation they had, had. He had been so somber and quiet, simply watching her through face-time.

”I miss you.” he said quietly.
”I miss you too.” she answered back.

At the end, they said their I love yous and goodnights. That was nine days ago, and Sydney was worried. Sighing she began texting him, sending him the same text she’s been sending for the past nine days.

‘I hope you’re doing okay. I love you.’

She tossed her phone before rolling out of bed to get ready for the day.

88
Despite her muscles protesting loudly, Sydney hustled down the street toward the train station. She’d been so slow at getting ready that she’d made herself cut it close to catching the eleven fifteen train. If she missed that train, she knew she’d be late and she hated being late for anything.

She hurried down the stairs, She hustled toward the turnstile, quickly placing her phone on the omny reader while glancing at time. She sighed as she realized she had eight minutes to spare. She walked the platform, frowning at the ache in her legs. She hoped she wasn’t getting Covid because that would be awful considering how much precaution she tried to take. She fixed the straps on her mask.

Her phone started vibrating and she looked down, eyes widening in surprise as she saw Michelle’s name pop up on her screen. She answered quickly, heart in her throat. “Hello?”

“Sydney, have you heard from Carmen?”

“No, I haven’t. He hasn’t spoken to me in—I haven’t heard from him.” She answered, voice concerned. “Is he—is everything okay?”

Michelle was quiet for a moment before speaking. “He left me a message asking me to help plan for packing up his apartment. I tried calling him back, but his phone goes straight to voicemail.”

Sydney slowly sat down on one of the benches. “He—He said that? I don’t—Is he—” she trailed off, unable to speak; confusion overrunning her senses.

Michelle sighed heavily. “Oh, honey. Sydney, Carmy said he isn’t returning to the city. He’s staying in Chicago. He didn’t tell you?”

Sydney swallowed as she shook her head. “No. He didn’t tell me. He’s not answering my calls either, or text messages.”

“Fuck.” Michelle whispered with a heavy sigh. “I hoped he wouldn’t—I’m so sorry sweetheart. Sydney, I’m so sorry. If I hear from him, I will tell him to call you.”

The sound of blood rushing to her ears drowned out everything; Sydney felt suddenly dizzy, and she put her hand onto her head to steady herself. “I—I have to go.” She put her phone back into her bag and stared sightlessly at the rat hustling its way across the train tracks. The loud blaring of her train arriving broke her from her dazed stupor and she quickly stood up, pausing as another wave of dizziness hit her.

The train doors opened, and she stood to the side so passengers could step off before getting onto the train. She made her way to a corner seat, trying to push the conversation she’d just had to the back of her mind. She couldn’t think of that. Not now, not today. She had one more day of work to get through; she had to keep it together.

88
Returning home from service found Sydney pacing the small space of her bathroom, glancing down at her phone to check the timer.

Work was hell. Her exhaustion and intermittent dizziness never went away. She had gotten nauseous handling a pot of sauerkraut and all hell broke loose. Her stomach protested to the point of her having to rush out of the kitchen to vomit. It was disgusting and just the type of ending she didn’t need to a shit day.

“Better hope you’re not pregnant.” Her coworker had joked when she went to check on her.

It had been a joke at the time, but the more Sydney thought about how she’s been feeling, the more the joke wasn’t a joke. She had recollected the evidence of her physical symptoms, which had gotten progressively worse for the past three weeks. She’d been tired and her body ached. The dizzy spells started this week and now that she’d thought of it, the nausea had made an appearance two weeks ago and her body just didn’t seem interested in food lately.

The real smoking gun was her lack of period, which always arrived like clockwork. She’d checked her period tracker and February 9thth was the first day of her last period. It was now March 9th, so fuck. She and Carmy hadn’t been careful after a while. She wasn’t taking birth control because the side effects were too intense for her body. Fuck.

Her phone started beeping, indicating the time was up. She slowly moved toward the sink and picked up the pregnancy test. Two lines. Fuck.

“No.” Sydney said, shaking her head. “That’s—I’m taking another fucking test. This is bullshit.”

It wasn’t bullshit.

Sydney stared down at the second test with the same result. The same two lines staring up at her mockingly. Her heart started to pound, blood rushing in her ears once more.

Her phone dinged. She pulled it from her pocket and sat on the floor, freezing as she realized it was a text from Carmy. “Oh, fuck.” She whispered to herself, taking a deep breath before opening the text notification.

‘I can’t come back. I’m sorry.’

Sydney could only stare at the text. Is that all he really had to say? Nothing else? Not even an apology for ignoring her for ten days? Not even a hint of how he was doing or asking how she was doing? She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, gathering her wits before texting him back.

‘Okay. So, what does this mean for us?’

Sydney stared down at her phone, waiting for the tiny text bubbles to appear. She waited and waited and waited for an answer that never came. She sat huddled in the little corner between her bathtub and toilet, hand on her forehead as her real nightmare came true.

She wanted to call him and demand answers but was too afraid to hear his clear rejection of her. She wanted to text him again, beg and plead that he call, but she had too much self-preservation for that type of bullshit. Her gaze slid back toward the pregnancy tests sitting on the sink counter and her heart ached. What was she going to do? How did her fucking life turn into this so quickly? For some odd reason, Carmy’s confession to her those few months ago arose in her thoughts.

‘There’s another side to me Syd…’

Sydney wondered if this is the side he meant.

She covered her eyes with her hand as she felt the first few tears start to make their way down her cheeks. “Fuck!”

88
A week later her pregnancy is confirmed, and Sydney learned she is five weeks pregnant.

“I cannot fucking believe him.” Roger said, shaking his head as Sydney told him about Carmy’s continued silence. “Did you happen to tell him he left a surprise in your uterus?”

Sydney scoffed as she shook her head, sniffling as she tossed her cellphone onto her bed. “How can I?” she asked, wiping her eyes. “He’s—I don’t even know. Every time I go to text or call I can’t—” She trailed off and sniffled. She couldn’t stop crying and it was so frustrating.

“Sydney,” Roger started. “You know you don’t have to do this?”

Sydney nodded in understanding. “I know. I know that. I have thought of it. I just don’t feel that way.”

Roger reached for her hands. “You love him, huh?”

“I do.” Sydney croaked. “I’m so confused because he said he loved me too? How can you treat someone you love like this? How can you just drop them without an explanation?”

Roger squeezed her hands as he nodded. “He owes you an explanation Sydney. Which is why you need to call his ass and at least tell his voicemail about himself.”

The tears started again as Sydney nodded her head. “I do need to. You’re right, but I’m too scared and I don’t want to be mean, even if he deserves it.” She shook her head as she wiped at her tears. “I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I’m crying over a guy.” She whimpered. “It’s so fucking stupid.”

Roger nodded in agreement. “There will always be at least one you encounter in your life that makes a steely bitch like yourself cry.” He smiled as she gave him a watery laugh. He wrapped his arm around her. “What do you need, my love?”

Sydney thought for a moment. What did she need? Her life was unraveling at the seams. She’s lost and confused and terrified because she’d just decided she was going to have a child. “I need—I need my dad.” She nodded to herself. “I want to go home to my dad.” She burst into tears.

Roger immediately pulled her into his arms. “Okay.” he said softly. “Then we’ll get you home. Are you sure you don’t want me to arrange a hit on Carmy?” He asked. “Eddie has the money to arrange such a thing, I’m sure.”

Sydney laughed through her tears as she hugged her best friend back. “I’ll think about it.”

TBC