“Then again, you’ve already given up with the pizza, I understand that.” I shove a huge spoonful of ice cream into my mouth.
Rowan laughs softly.
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” I say, mouth full.
“It doesn’t affect me at all, you know? I come from a strict diet and sporting discipline. I’m used to it.”
“Discipline? I don’t even know what that means.”
Rowan laughs again before standing.
“I’m going to make some herbal tea, if you don’t mind.”
“Do we have any herbal tea in the house?”
Mr Yang usually brings his herbs when he makes a hot drink.
“I brought those with me, including the coffee machine and other items you needed.”
I get up too, very interested, and follow him into the kitchen. I hadn’t noticed the box on the floor.
“I’m curious now,” I admit, shoving more ice cream into my mouth.
Rowan effortlessly lifts the box and sets it on the table, then begins to reveal its contents.
“What’s that?” I point with my spoon at a strange device that looks like a modern blender.
“It’s for my shakes.” He shows me a container. “Protein.” He also pulls out a bag of fruit and vegetables. “I didn’t know what you had here. It’s my habit to have a protein shake for breakfast after my usual run.”
“So no coffee, bacon, sausages…”
“Coffee, sure, after the shower or when I get to the office. As for the rest… No, I don’t eat these foods, but at the weekend I make protein pancakes with fresh fruit, or even omelettes with egg whites and vegetables.”
“It all sounds very challenging.”
“It is.”
“You really take care of your body.”
He nods as he finishes emptying the box.
“I’m sorry if we’re disrupting your routine.”
“You’re not.”
“I even put ice cream right under your nose!”
Rowan laughs. “I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do, Seth. Besides, I’m not a robot. Everyone deserves breaks from the routine—moments of absolute freedom.”
“Like stew?”
His eyes snap to mine, serious and watchful, as if what we shared in bed could not be shared elsewhere, as if the moment we allowed ourselves to look into each other’s souls belonged to others and not to us.
He lowers his eyes and shrugs. Just as I am about to apologise for bringing it up, Rowan speaks again.
“Like stew.”
The fact that he answered me does not make me feel better. His tone has changed. His posture has stiffened. And he seems a thousand miles away from this house, from this family, from me.
