Alina Pov
The streetlights started growing apart as we drew further and further away from the bustling city noise. The car drove up a hill and a small sign to the side wrote… welcome to Ashridge Hills.
I smiled at the name instantly, I liked how it sounds.
Not long later Mikhail pulled into a driveway of a modest bungalow with white walls and a small porch light that flickered. The door to his garage opened automatically and he drove inside, stepping out of the car immediately he turned it off.
He didn't say anything but I followed him out. The door closed behind us as he led me pass the fence gate. His front yard was neat with just a couple of flower pots on the base of the steps to the porch. They looked neglected and wittered.
This was not how I pictured his house to be like. It looked… homey.
As soon as he opened the front door, a blur of golden fur jumped out from inside. A golden retriever with excited eyes, it hugged Mikhail at the waist and wiggled it's tail at an amazing speed.
"Easy Leo." he murmured and kissed the dog's forehead before it dropped down.
Leo came straight to me next. It circled me, sniffing and wagging it's tail. I stood still, not wanting to do something to make it lash out on me.
"It doesn't bite right?" I asked and he laughed.
He actually laughed. It was my first time hearing it too. I liked the sound, it was raw, nothing like the trained voices I grew up around. My parents even made me laugh a certain way so that the media wouldn't find anything to use against me.
"You never had a dog?" he asks.
"I had a gold fish?" I yelped when it licked my fingers.
He laughed again.
"Come on boy."
The living room was small and a bit messy. There was a leather couch with a small TV, and a coffee table in between them, littered with unopened mail. On the windowsill to the left was a forgotten coffee mug.
It wasn't much and was definitely different from what I'm used to, but somehow, it was exciting.
"Bathroom's is to the right and you can use the second bedroom," he said walking to the kitchen.
I stood at the center of the room, slowly taking everything in.
"I have to do some shopping, there isn't anything in there and you must be starving," he poured some dog food and water into Leo's bowls and stepped out.
"I some cereal you can eat, in the mean time I am going to go grocery shopping."
The door closed behind him and I was left alone with his dog.
I stood there for a moment. This wasn't what I expected when I ran from the altar, but maybe, this is exactly what I need.
I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Just beer, milk and half a bottle of water. I grabbed the milk and shook my head.
In the cabinet above, I found the cereal. I also found a lone bowl and a spoon, I dusted them both with a napkin and sat at the dining table, munching quietly.
The kitchen and dining area were part of the same layout. The fridge had a dent in the upper right side, the countertop bore a stain near the edge and on the drying rack was all the tableware items he owned.
One mug.
One fork.
One plate.
One glass.
He lives like someone who isn't expecting company, or want it.
Once my bowl was empty, I stood up and wandered.
I found the bathroom he told me about which was surprisingly neat. The mirror was spotless, the tub and toilet was clean, and even the soap dish was wiped dry.
The difference from the living room was shocking.
Down the short hallway was two doors. One opened into a vacant bedroom. It was dusty but the furniture was covered with plastic covers.
The second one made me pause for a minute.
Inside was a baby room.
A brand new crib. A plushie on the inside. Diapers stacked in neat towers in the corner, unopened. A mobile still wrapped in its packaging, everything covered in plastic covers.
Is he expecting? He didn't strike me as the father type. I stepped back and closed the door. In a small room I found cleaning supplies and made it my mission to make this place spotless.
By the time Mikhail walked through the front door, the couch had been vacuumed, the surfaces wiped, random items sorted out, the floor swept and mopped, and the whole house smelled faintly of lemon.
I was wiping down the kitchen counters, determined to get that stain out when I heard a voice behind me.
"What the hell?"
I turned to him. His hands were full of bags of groceries. His eyes finally left the room and found mine.
"I leave for thirty minutes and come back to a home makeover." he dropped the bags on the dining table.
I chuckled and peeked into them. "It wasn't that bad. What did you get?"
He rubbed the back of his neck with a shy smile. "I asked an old lady for some help. She practically wrote me a shopping list and told me not to embarrass myself."
He pulled out the items one at a time… pasta, vegetables, spices, rice, chicken, beef…"
"You did good," I said grinning.
"I panicked when she said arugula."
I laughed, for real in a long time. "Lucky for you I know how to cook,"
He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
I nodded. "One of the few useful things my parents forced me to learn that I'm actually grateful for. They wanted me to be, and I quote… 'The Ideal Wife'."
"Guess they did one thing right." he muttered.
I smiled and started putting the groceries away, and picking some for a late dinner. It's been a crazy last 24 hours but I felt relaxed for the first time in days.
Maybe this place wasn't so bad.
Maybe he isn't.