Louboutins & Aprons

Chapter 8:mark

Two weeks.

That was how long it had been since I last saw Valentina De Luca.

Fourteen days.

At first, I thought I would be relieved.

Actually, I expected to be relieved.

For more than a month, Valentina had been a constant presence in my restaurant.

Every day.

Same table.

Same seat.

Same confident expression.

Same impossible determination.

She would walk through the doors wearing expensive clothes and those sharp heels that announced her arrival before anyone even saw her.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Everyone knew when Valentina was there.

And somehow, everyone knew why she was there.

Because of me.

At least, that was what she always said.

I want you.

Those words had become something I associated with her.

I had heard them so many times that I could almost predict when she was going to say them.

And every time, I had the same reaction.

Confusion.

Because Valentina was not normal.

She did not approach people the way normal people did.

She did not slowly get to know someone.

She did not hesitate.

She saw something she wanted, and she went after it.

That was Valentina.

So when she stopped coming, I thought I would finally have peace.

No more wondering if she was going to appear during lunch.

No more avoiding her table.

No more feeling her eyes watching me while I worked.

No more unexpected conversations.

No more Valentina.

That should have been a good thing.

But somehow, it wasn’t.

Every morning when I entered the restaurant, I found myself looking toward the window.

Toward her table.

The chair was always empty.

And I hated that I noticed.

The first few days, I told myself it was because I was used to seeing her there.

That was all.

When someone becomes part of your routine, you notice when they disappear.

It didn’t mean anything.

It was just habit.

That was what I told myself.

But after a week passed, I started wondering.

Where was she?

Then another week passed.

And the question became harder to ignore.

Where was Valentina?

I asked myself that question more times than I wanted to admit.

It was strange.

Because I didn’t even know why I cared.

She was not my girlfriend.

She was not my friend.

She was just a customer.

A very persistent customer.

A very wealthy customer.

A very unusual customer.

But still a customer.

So why did I keep looking at the entrance every time the door opened?

Why did I notice every woman who walked in wearing expensive clothes?

Why did I find myself waiting for the sound of heels?

Click.

Click.

Click.

It annoyed me.

Because I had spent an entire month wishing she would stop.

And now that she had stopped…

I noticed.

⸻

“Chef?”

I looked up.

One of the waitresses was standing near the kitchen.

“Yes?”

She smiled.

“You’re looking at the door again.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m checking customers.”

“You’ve checked the door ten times in the last hour.”

“I’m making sure we’re prepared.”

She crossed her arms.

“Are you waiting for someone?”

“No.”

“Valentina?”

I immediately looked away.

“No.”

She smiled.

“You answered too quickly.”

“I’m busy.”

“You always say that.”

“Because I am always busy.”

She laughed softly.

Then she walked away.

I hated that everyone noticed.

Everyone knew.

The entire restaurant had watched Valentina come in every day.

Everyone had watched her sit there.

Everyone had watched her chase me.

And now everyone noticed that she was gone.

I didn’t want them to notice.

Because that meant they noticed I noticed.

And I didn’t want to admit that.

⸻

The restaurant closed later than usual.

By the time I finished cleaning the kitchen, it was almost midnight.

I changed out of my uniform and grabbed my jacket.

Outside, the night air was cool.

Daniel was already waiting at our usual place.

The moment he saw me, he smiled.

“There he is.”

I sat down.

“Don’t start.”

He laughed.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were going to.”

“I was just going to say hello.”

“Sure.”

The waiter brought our drinks.

Daniel leaned back.

“So.”

I looked at him.

“So what?”

“You know exactly what.”

“No, I don’t.”

He smiled.

“You haven’t mentioned her.”

“Who?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously?”

I took a drink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Valentina.”

I looked away.

“What about her?”

Daniel grinned.

“You noticed.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“She hasn’t been there.”

There was silence.

Then Daniel smiled.

“You just admitted you noticed.”

“I noticed because she used to come every day.”

“Exactly.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Mark.”

“What?”

“You spent an entire month complaining about her.”

“Because she was strange.”

“She was.”

“She walked into my restaurant and told me she wanted me.”

Daniel laughed.

“Yes.”

“That’s strange.”

“Very.”

“She followed me around.”

“She visited your restaurant.”

“Every day.”

“Because she liked you.”

“Because she was determined.”

“Same thing.”

“No.”

Daniel shook his head.

“You didn’t want to see her.”

“I didn’t say that.”

The words came out before I could stop them.

Daniel became quiet.

Then slowly smiled.

“What did you say?”

I frowned.

“I said I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t say you didn’t want to see her.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

I looked down at my drink.

“I mean… she was always there.”

“Yes.”

“And now she’s not.”

“Yes.”

“And it’s strange.”

Daniel leaned back.

“So you miss her.”

“No.”

“Mark.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I’m just wondering why she disappeared.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s unlike her.”

Daniel smiled.

“You know her well enough to know what she would do?”

I paused.

I didn’t answer.

Because maybe I did.

Not completely.

But enough.

For the past month, I had learned certain things about Valentina.

She was stubborn.

Extremely stubborn.

She was confident.

Sometimes too confident.

She was used to getting what she wanted.

She was not someone who gave up easily.

That was one thing I knew about her.

So her disappearing without saying anything?

That was strange.

Very strange.

“Maybe she quit,” Daniel said.

I looked at him.

“What?”

“Maybe she stopped coming.”

“Why?”

“Maybe she got tired.”

“Tired of what?”

“You ignoring her.”

I looked away.

“She knew I wasn’t interested.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Yes.”

“Did you?”

I thought about it.

Not exactly.

I had never said the words.

I had avoided her.

I had told her she was strange.

I had told her she distracted me.

But I had never looked at her and said, I don’t want you.

Because every time she appeared, she looked so certain.

So sure.

And I never wanted to hurt her.

“She knew,” I said.

Daniel shrugged.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe she finally understood.”

I didn’t like the feeling that came with that.

Understood.

Stopped.

Left.

Those words felt wrong.

Daniel continued.

“Maybe she found something else she wants.”

I frowned.

“What?”

“You said it yourself. Valentina sees something she likes and goes after it.”

“That’s not—”

“She wanted you.”

I stayed quiet.

“Maybe she wants someone else now.”

The thought bothered me.

More than it should have.

I imagined Valentina walking into another restaurant.

Looking at another man.

Telling someone else—

I want you.

I immediately pushed the thought away.

“That’s ridiculous.”

Daniel smiled.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t like the idea?”

“No.”

“Why?”

I looked at him.

“I don’t know.”

Daniel laughed.

“There it is.”

“What?”

“You don’t know.”

“Stop.”

“You’re thinking about her.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re wondering where she is.”

“I’m curious.”

“You miss her.”

“I don’t.”

Daniel raised his hands.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“But I’m right.”

“You’re not.”

“Sure.”

I ignored him.

⸻

When I got home, the apartment felt unusually quiet.

I dropped my keys on the counter and took off my jacket.

Normally, after work, I was exhausted.

I showered.

Ate something.

Went to sleep.

But tonight, I found myself standing in the kitchen, doing nothing.

Thinking.

About Valentina.

I hated that.

I hated that I was wondering what she was doing.

Was she working?

Was she traveling?

Was she busy?

Was she okay?

I walked toward my bedroom.

Then stopped.

My phone was on the counter.

I stared at it.

For a second, I considered something ridiculous.

Calling the restaurant.

Asking if anyone knew where she was.

But why?

That would be strange.

I didn’t have her number.

She didn’t have mine.

And that was probably for the best.

Because if I had her number…

Would I have called her?

The question bothered me.

I turned away.

“No.”

I didn’t need to know.

She had her own life.

A very busy life.

She was Valentina De Luca.

She ran companies.

She traveled.

She had important things to do.

She probably forgot about some chef who worked in a small restaurant.

That made sense.

Except…

I remembered the way she looked at me.

Like I was the only person in the room.

I remembered the way she sat there working for hours because she didn’t want to miss seeing me.

I remembered the pasta.

The way she smiled when I brought it to her.

The way she said thank you.

She had seemed different that day.

Not like the woman everyone described.

Not like the Ice Queen.

Just Valentina.

And now she was gone.

I went to bed.

But sleep did not come easily.

Because for the first time since she entered my life, I wasn’t wondering when Valentina would leave.

I was wondering when she would come back.

And that realization bothered me more than anything.

Because maybe I had been wrong.

Maybe I didn’t hate having Valentina around.

Maybe I had just been afraid of getting used to her.

I closed my eyes.

Tomorrow, I would go to the restaurant.

I would work.

I would cook.

I would do everything I normally did.

And I would not look toward the empty chair.

I would not wonder if she was coming.

I would not wait for the sound of her heels.

I would not think about Valentina De Luca.

That was the plan.

But deep down, I already knew—

I would look.

Because the chair near the window was empty.

And somehow…

The restaurant felt a little less alive without her there.