Free Life In The Palace by Catherine Green

he’s the One.
    He couldn’t read my thoughts and my face was still as I tried to integrate the enormity of the moment. It’s not every day you meet your soul mate, so it took some processing. Seth seemed to shrink back as he came to the wrong conclusions.
    In a tiny voice he said, “Pretty undying, at least until I’m forty.” He rallied at the end, presumably hoping the joke would save him from his growing embarrassment. He was so busy cowering that I took him totally by surprise.
    He flew backward, landing neatly with his head on my pillow as I let my lips show him how I felt. Nothing will keep us apart now that we’ve found each other.
    At some point my hair had fallen out of its usual topknot. As he lifted me off him just enough to see my face, hair cascaded around us; brown wavy curtains created an exclusive VIP suite. My face was just inches from his. He seemed to glow; his eyes were wide and deep. I felt the same incandescence radiating off my skin. I was drowning in his eyes, waiting for his lips to save me.
    “Forever?” he whispered.
    As surely as I have ever known anything in my life, I responded, “Forever.”
    I melted into him.
     
    Simone was closeted in her room when we emerged. Seth held my hand, fingers entwined, all the way to the kitchen. He pulled me closer and kissed me against the open fridge.
    “I’m trying to make us some dinner.”
    “I lost my appetite,” he murmured into my neck.
    “I didn’t.”
    “Are you trying to spoil my fun?” he laughed, as I pushed him into a nearby chair.
    “We have to eat. If we’re going out with the gang it won’t look good if either of us faints from hunger or exhaustion.” I searched the fridge for something suitable.
    “It wouldn’t do my rep any harm to have girls fainting at my feet,” Seth muttered under his breath. I gave him a good long stare to let him know I’d heard him.
    “Your reputation doesn’t need any help.” He smirked but stayed silent. I didn’t have much in the fridge; half a tomato, an elderly green pepper and a tub of cottage cheese. I tried the cupboard.
    “Do you need some help?” he interrupted me mid-rummage.
    “No, I’m fine,” I said with total uncertainty.
    He stood up purposefully and looked in the fridge, “Which is yours?”
    “The bottom shelf. The middle is Simone, and the top is things we share,” I called over.
    He straightened up and looked at me, “Do you ever eat?”
    “Every day.”
    “What?” he was totally incredulous.
    “Actually, often Simone cooks for both of us and I pay her back. I’m not much of a cook. When Simone’s not around I have pasta and cheese or eggs or something.”
    “Or something, indeed,” he said taking a deep breath. “Besides this, what do you have?”
    “Pasta.”
    “And?”
    I smiled sheepishly. He walked over and moved me aside gently. With one hand still around my waist, he surveyed my store cupboard.
    “Good grief, woman, and you’re worried about me collapsing from hunger. Have you ever heard of food groups?”
    I snuggled into his warm body, “You should try and eat them?”
    He kissed my forehead, “Get your purse, we’re going out.”
    “Take out?”
    “Groceries.”
     
    Simone was in the kitchen as I staggered back up the stairs with my arms full of bags. I was carrying the bags because Seth’s arms were full of, not one but two, boxes of groceries.
    She started giggling, “Doing some cooking?”
    “Simone, I know we’ve only just met, but how could you just stand by and let her eat like this?” Seth asked shaking his head. “Pasta for two meals every day?”
    “I get lunch on campus containing more than one food group,” I protested unheard.
    “I did what I could,” Simone sighed with mock martyrdom. “I hand the torch to you.”
    Seth bowed, “I accept the position with honor.”
    Seth set me to chopping onions while he and Simone discussed recipes.
    “Chloe, how much cooking have you actually done?” Seth asked when he