Two Hearts

The Smell of Home

Daniel's POV

I stood frozen.

A few seconds passed. Maybe even minutes. I honestly didn't know. It felt as if time itself had stopped. My feet simply refused to move. I hadn't smelled anything like this in years - Years.

The last time had been when my mother was still alive. She loved cooking. She was always experimenting with recipes, creating her own versions of dishes she found in magazines or cookbooks. Somehow, everything she made tasted incredible.

Back then, the house always smelled like food. Like warmth. Like family. As a boy, I used to wait impatiently for her to call me downstairs for dinner.

Then she died.

My father never cooked. We ate out most of the time or had chefs prepare meals for us. The food was expensive, professionally made, flawless even. But it was never the same. Mom was gone. And with her, that feeling disappeared too.

When I was with Elina, I thought I might find it again. I thought maybe that's what building a life together was supposed to feel like.

I was wrong.

For a girl who grew up in the countryside, she couldn't cook at all. We spent most evenings in restaurants. At the time, I didn't see anything wrong with it. My rose-colored glasses were thicker than they should have been.

She loved it. The expensive restaurants. The expensive wine. The expensive everything. And I loved giving it to her.

Back then, I would've given her the entire world if she had asked. What I failed to notice was how a simple girl slowly turned into a greedy woman.

Until the day everything fell apart...

Finally forcing myself to move, I stepped farther into the house. At that exact moment, Laura emerged from the kitchen.

She wore a simple cotton dress. Her hair was tied back in the same practical ponytail she always wore. Nothing flashy. Nothing designed to impress.

She held a kitchen towel in her hands, drying them as she walked.

So she had been cooking. The realization hit me immediately.

Laura's expression shifted from surprise to confusion. Then, surprisingly, irritation.

I frowned - What was that supposed to mean?

For several seconds, neither of us spoke. Her tired green eyes met my cold blue ones. Neither willing to look away.

I had no idea how much time passed before she finally broke the silence.

"Hi." Her voice sounded uncertain. As if she wasn't sure what she should say to me. Or whether she should say anything at all.

"I made dinner. We're about to eat. Would you like to join us?" It was a simple question. A polite one. Yet it irritated me. The entire situation irritated me.

"No." The answer came out harsher than I intended. My stomach chose that exact moment to betray me with a low growl. The smell coming from the kitchen was torture. For the first time in years, I actually wanted a home-cooked meal. But I refused to give in.

"I only came to shower and change clothes. Then I'm leaving again." Without waiting for a response, I headed upstairs.

I had barely reached the first few steps when a small voice suddenly echoed from the dining room.

"Mom... is that him?"

I froze. Just for a second.

The voice belonged to the boy. Silence followed. Then another voice, girls, quieter but filled with curiosity.

"Is that Daniel?"

Something tightened unpleasantly in my chest.

For the first time since signing those damned papers, the situation stopped feeling like a contract. Because contracts didn't look at you with excitement. Contracts didn't wait to meet you. Contracts didn't call your name.

I stared at the staircase ahead of me. Then I forced my expression back into place. This wasn't my problem. None of this was supposed to matter.

Without turning around, I continued upstairs. Leaving her standing alone between the kitchen and the hallway.

Yet for some reason, the sound of that child's voice followed me all the way to my bedroom.

Laura's POV

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I couldn't tell whether the past few weeks had been real or just some strange nightmare.

But one look around the room was enough. It was real. Every bit of it.

For the first time in years, I felt rested. Even though it had taken me hours to fall asleep. I had spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, wondering where on earth Daniel had disappeared to.

Now, waking up in this enormous bed with the softest mattress I'd ever slept on, I felt almost reborn.

I sat up and looked around. The bedroom alone was nearly half the size of my old apartment.

There was a massive bed, a huge wardrobe, a dresser with a television on top, and a cozy lounge chair near the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the garden.

Everything had been carefully designed. Every detail. Every decoration. It felt surprisingly warm. Surprisingly human.

I got up and headed to my private bathroom - My private bathroom. Even thinking those words felt strange. No waiting for someone else to finish. No arguing over hot water. No sharing space. Just peace. Silence. Time.

I probably shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as I did. But I did.

The morning passed quietly.

I made breakfast for the children, figured out how to use Daniel's ridiculously expensive coffee machine, unpacked a few boxes, and slowly started making the room feel less foreign.

Later, I explored the house properly.

The day before had been a blur. This time I noticed something interesting. The most personal room in the entire house was Daniel's office. Everywhere else felt elegant but empty.

The office was different. There were photographs. Diplomas. Awards. Sports trophies. Memories.

Evidence that, once upon a time, Daniel Carter had actually been happy. In several pictures he was smiling. Not the polite corporate smile he used during meetings. A real smile. The kind that reached his eyes. His blue eyes practically glowed in those photographs.

Looking at them, it was hard to believe life had turned him into the man he was now.

But it had.

The proof was impossible to miss. The coldness. The distance. The anger hiding beneath the surface. Truthfully, that version of Daniel frightened me more than I wanted to admit.

The day slipped by quickly.

Between the children, unpacking boxes, helping with homework, and wandering through the house trying to learn its layout, the hours disappeared.

The only room I never entered was Daniel's bedroom. I already knew which door it was. Eric had shown me the house. And that room was one place I had absolutely no intention of stepping into.

That evening, while dinner cooked, I watched the children playing one of their board games at the dining table.

They seemed happy. Unaffected. As if we were still living in our old apartment. As if nothing had changed.

At some point I heard a car pull into the driveway. I barely paid attention. Eric had called earlier and mentioned he might stop by. I assumed it was him.

A moment later I heard the front door open.

Then silence.

No greeting. No footsteps. Nothing. Several minutes passed. That was odd. If it were Eric, he would've already walked into the kitchen and said hello.

I wiped my hands and headed toward the hallway.

The moment I stepped out of the kitchen, I froze - Daniel.

After disappearing for days, he was suddenly standing there. As if he had fallen from the sky. The smell of alcohol lingered around him. So did traces of a woman's perfume.

His eyes looked tired. Sunken. Exhausted.

My emotions shifted instantly - Surprise. Confusion. Then anger. Because he had left me completely alone.

I knew nothing about this house. Nothing about how any of this was supposed to work. I had been figuring everything out by myself. The least he could've done was show a little basic courtesy.

I understood he hadn't wanted any of this. Neither had I. But at least I was trying. Trying to be civil. Trying to make this work.

We stared at each other.Neither speaking. Eventually I realized he wasn't going to say anything. And even if he did, it certainly wouldn't be an apology.

"Hi," I said, keeping my voice calm, "I made dinner. We're about to eat. Would you like to join us?"

His answer didn't surprise me.

"No." Cold. Sharp. Dismissive. As if I were nothing more than an inconvenience. "I only came to shower and change clothes. Then I'm leaving again."

Without another word, he turned and headed toward the staircase.

I was already mentally calling him every name I could think of when a voice suddenly carried from the dining room.

"Mom... is that him?", Markus.

Daniel stopped. It lasted only a second. So brief I almost wondered if I had imagined it.

His shoulders stiffened slightly, and for the first time since he'd walked through the front door, something seemed to break through the wall of indifference he carried around himself.

Then Ellie's voice joined in.

"Is that Daniel?", The children sounded curious. Excited, even.

They had spent days hearing his name but had never actually met him.

For a moment, nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

I found myself watching him, waiting. Part of me thought he might turn around. Maybe say hello. Maybe come into the dining room. Maybe act like a normal human being.

Instead, he continued walking. Without looking back. Without answering. Without acknowledging them at all. A few seconds later, I heard his bedroom door close upstairs.

The disappointment on the children's faces hit me harder than it should have.

"It's okay," I said quickly, forcing a smile.

"He's probably just tired." I wasn't sure whether I was trying to convince them or myself.

The moment he disappeared upstairs, one thought crossed my mind. He has absolutely no sense of decency. Everything revolves around him. Everything.

Fine - Don't eat. I wasn't going to beg.

I turned around and went back to the kitchen. And from that moment on, something inside me changed. The sympathy I had felt for him disappeared. So did my attempts to understand him.

All that remained was one very simple conclusion - Daniel Carter was an asshole.