The Stranger In Me

Chapter 5: A cup of Something Unfamiliar

Marie's Point of View

••••

"I-I'm so sorry, sir!"

The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could even think. My heart pounded wildly as I stared at the dark stain spreading across Sir Kelvin's white shirt.

"I didn't mean to-I can clean it-I'll make another coffee right away-"

I bent quickly, reaching for a cloth to wipe the marble floor, my hands trembling.

"Stop."His voice came-not loud, not sharp.Just... firm.

I froze.Slowly, I looked up at him, expecting anger. Expecting harsh words,expecting

Something,but none came.

Instead, he exhaled softly, running a hand through his slightly damp hair.

"It's fine," he said, his tone quieter than I had ever heard it. "Leave it."

I blinked, confused.

"I'll make another one, sir," I insisted, already reaching for the cup. "Please, let me-"

"I said leave it, Marie."

The way he said my name made my chest tighten.

Not cold,not mocking.Just... normal.

"I'll make it myself," he added, turning away slightly. "The way I like it. The way Nanny Ann does."

That stung more than it should have.I lowered my gaze. "Yes, sir."

There was a pause,then, unexpectedly-

"You should go upstairs and rest," he said.

I looked up again, certain I had misheard.

"Sir?"

"You're exhausted," he said, avoiding my eyes. "Go."

For a second, I didn't know what to do.

Rest? Was that... permission?Or dismissal?

"...Thank you, sir," I murmured softly.

He didn't respond.He had already turned away.

---

I stood there for a moment longer before Nanny Ann gently touched my arm.

"Come," she said quietly, handing me the cup. "Make the coffee."

I frowned slightly. "But... he said he would-"

"And I said you will," she replied, her tone calm but firm.

"You need this more than I do." I hesitated,then nodded.

---

In the quiet of the kitchen, I held the cup in my hands and stared at it for a moment.

Coffee.Such a simple thing and yet... not simple at all.

I closed my eyes briefly,memories surfaced.

My mother in our small kitchen back home, carefully measuring each ingredient... my father sitting patiently, waiting... the rich aroma filling the air.

"This is how you make it with love," she used to say.Not rushed,not forced,but felt.

I opened my eyes and began.

Each step slow,intentional,familiar.

The scent rose gently, wrapping around me like something warm and forgotten.

When I finished, I stared at the cup for a second longer.Then carried it upstairs.

---

Sir Kelvin's room door was slightly open.I stepped in quietly and placed the cup on his reading table.

The room was neat,minimal,cold,like him.

I turned to leave and walked straight into him.

"Oh!"

I gasped, immediately turning away as my eyes caught a glimpse of his bare chest.

"I-I'm sorry!" I covered my eyes quickly, my face burning. "Your coffee is on the table-I didn't-"

I pointed vaguely behind me, refusing to look at him.

Then hurried past, my heart racing as I rushed out of the room.

---

Kelvin's Point of View

••••

I stood still for a moment longer after Marie hurried out, the faint echo of her footsteps fading into the corridor.

The house fell quiet again,too quiet.My gaze drifted back to the cup of coffee resting on the table, but my mind wasn't on it-not yet.

It was on her,on the way she had flinched earlier,on the way her fingers trembled when she apologized,on the way she still said,

"sir" with respect... even after everything.

I exhaled slowly, loosening my grip on the edge of the table.Why didn't I scold her?Why didn't I react the way I usually did?The answer came uninvited.

Mia.

My chest tightened slightly at the thought of my daughter-her small hands gripping her notepad, her bright eyes searching for reassurance in a world she couldn't fully voice.

And then... her words.

"Aunty Marie told me to always give Daddy a big hug... because he needs it more than I do."

I shut my eyes briefly.Marie had no reason to speak well of me.None.

Not after the way I treated her,not after the slap.

Yet she still chose to paint me as something better in my daughter's eyes.

She filled in the gaps I had left behind,she softened the image of a father who had been anything but present.

A humorless chuckle escaped my lips.

"What kind of person does that?" I muttered under my breath.

Certainly not the kind of person I had become.My gaze dropped unconsciously to where her face had been earlier.

The bruise,red,swollen,fresh.My doing.Something twisted uncomfortably in my chest.

That was the real reason I told her to go upstairs.Not just because she looked exhausted,not just because she needed rest,but because I didn't want Nanny Ann to see it.

Nanny Ann;the only person in this house who still spoke to me without fear. The only one who had watched me grow from a broken boy into... whatever I was now.

If she saw that mark,there would be questions,disappointment and worse... recognition.Recognition of the man I was becoming or had already become.

I clenched my jaw slightly."I didn't need this," I muttered, though the words lacked conviction.

Didn't need guilt,didn't need complications,didn't need... her and yet-there she was, everywhere in Mia's laughter.

In the quiet order of the house,in the warmth I had long refused to acknowledge.

I reached for the cup again, almost absentmindedly, and took another sip.

The taste lingered, gentle,Intentional,human.My grip softened.

"She made this," I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else.

Not Nanny Ann,not the staff,but Marie.

The same woman I had tried-unsuccessfully-to reduce to nothing more than an employee.The same woman who, despite everything, continued to show up,to care,to give even when I gave her nothing in return.

I walked slowly to the window, the cup still in my hand, and stared out into the dimly lit compound.

For the first time in a long while-the silence didn't feel empty.It felt... questioning and I wasn't sure I had the answer.