"Hi, you," Kenna says, wrapping her arms around Bash's waist as he focuses on dinner.
"Hey," he says, tilting his head to the side when she presses a kiss on his neck.
"I just got off the phone with my client. The one with the twins graduating from Harvard and coming back home," she informs him. "And she asked if I wanted to bring a plus one to the event and enjoy the party tomorrow."
Bash smiles, nodding as he turns his head to face her. "I'd love to go with you."
Kenna sighs in relief, pulling his head to hers for a kiss. "I'd finally get to show off my handsome man," she says, making him chuckle as he blushes. "Stop being so insecure, you're handsome and gorgeous and if you weren't those paired with smart and kind-hearted, we wouldn't be married."
"I know," he mumbles, nudging her back a little with his butt to put the casserole dish in the oven. When he sets the timer, he turns around and kisses her, pressing her against the counter edge. "Keep complimenting me like that and I'd just have to settle with you for dessert."
Kenna laughs, eyeing the cherry pie cooling off on the side. "And not some of that good pie?"
"Who needs pie when you've got a delectable wife?" He asks back, nipping and sucking at her ear.
"Oh," Kenna says, her voice going low as her eyes darken with lust. "How long until the casserole's done?"
"Three and a half hours," he says against her skin.
She pulls back, staring into his eyes. "I know exactly how to spend those hours," she replies, pulling him upstairs to their bedroom.
...
As they eat, Bash can't help but say, "Normally, I would be opposed to having dessert before dinner."
Kenna smirks, eyeing the uneaten pie on the kitchen counter. "This first attempt at casserole tastes amazing."
"Yeah," Bash says, slightly surprised. "Glad I got there on time when you were trying to pull me back into bed."
"Well, I wanted to finish what I started for you," she says, leaning across the table to kiss him. "Salad?"
"Yes, please," he replies, accepting the bowl. "I could do with a holiday. I'll see what options we've got. We can try the Alps."
Kenna nods in surprise. "I'll finally wear my cute snowsuit!"
"Pack light," her husband tells her with a slight smile. "I am not forking out for tips when we have five employees dragging your stuff up for you."
Kenna giggles, winking at him. "Who says I'll need clothes when I'll be naked most of the time anyway?"
"Oh..." He breathes out. "Fine by me."
"I can just see us now," Kenna says, closing her eyes. "Champagne with the curtains drawn apart to reveal the beautiful snowy background. Urgh, people will be so jealous on Instagram. Hey, do you think we'll be able to have sex in a ski lift?" She smirks, her lip between her teeth.
He laughs. "God, you're so weird. But I love you so that's-" He's cut off by his phone ringing and he stands to retrieve it from the charger and answer it. "Dad?"
Kenna continues eating as he talks in a hushed tone. She frowns in concern when he leaves the room to continue talking at a much better volume and suddenly, she starts picking at her food, uncertain of what this call from his father means.
It's fifteen minutes until he returns and she's finished her dinner, digging into the cherry pie with a fork and forgoing a dish.
"Sorry about that," Bash mumbles, taking a seat and rubbing his hands down his face. "Kenna..."
She meets his eyes. "What is it?"
"I'm needed in Canada for two to three months to overlook a project I started last week and I can't... I can't delegate it to someone else as it's my project so I know the ins and outs of everything," he tells her gently, taking her hand.
She sighs but smiles. "When do you leave?"
"Tonight. My flight's at eleven."
Her smile leaves her face and she sees red, pulling her hand from his grip. "Sebastian, you'll miss my event tomorrow," she says. "A-And you'll miss eight to twelve appointments with Dr Narcisse."
"Do you think I want to go?" He asks. "I'd rather go and support you at work a-and be there to work on our marriage but this is my job. I chose this job and I love it."
Kenna chuckles bitterly. "And that's why you put your job above me. The only reason I expanded my business was that you got that promotion and I didn't want to feel abandoned at home."
"But isn't your company doing really well? You're getting the most elite of clients and-"
"The money's nothing if I can't spend it with my husband for a day at least," Kenna cuts him off. "I'm hating my job that I've always loved because you love yours too much. You love travelling, the buzz you get from feeling accomplished and helpful to others. You love being needed but you're needed by everyone but me. I need you but you're not there when I need you."
Bash sighs heavily. "You could always come with me and see what I do. Maybe you'd understand-"
"I literally asked the same of you and you have the audacity...!" She lets out a frustrated cry. "I knew we were in the calm before the storm." She sighs, standing up with her plate and placing it in the sink. "Do what you want, Bash. I don't care anymore."
"God, Kenna, you're such a bitch..." He rolls his eyes, starting to clear up after their dinner. "You're so goddamn suffocating - you always want to be in my space, you complain too much, you don't give me the space I need to just do what I need to do and be done with it. It's a constant battle with you-"
Kenna sends him a sharp glare. "Is that right?" She asks. "You're no better! You always are so dictating. 'Don't do this, don't do that'. I can't even leave the room without your eyes on me! I feel like I can't be myself with you. I'm putting in all the effort, you just want someone to warm your damn bed. Well, guess what? You can pack your shit and go to work. That's what you're married to."
Bash sighs as she leaves the room, storming upstairs. He gives her an hour before he heads up and pulls his suitcase out from the guest bedroom wardrobe and heads to their bedroom.
He contemplates knocking but it's his room too so he just opens the door and walks inside. He waits at the end of their bed and her eyes meet his, fury in her brown orbs. He laughs to himself, she's still mad and so is he.
"I need to pack."
"I'm not stopping you," she replies, gesturing to herself ready for bed with her laptop open. She's got her outfit for tomorrow's event on the bed and she's watching his every move.
He packs a medium-sized suitcase, not caring if he's got to check it in. He's going to be gone for a while. He can easily switch between seven suits, Kenna was smart enough to suggest even mixing and matching as blue blazers could go with grey trousers and he almost thanks her for the idea but remembers they're arguing.
He's sick of it.
He gets dressed, leaving his robe on the bed as he puts his shirt on and buttons it. When he's finished, he slips his jacket on, fixes his suitcase upright and wheels it out of the bedroom.
"I'll see you at Christmas-"
"I'll be in Scotland."
"When did you decide that?"
Kenna blinks slowly. "The second you called me a bitch and that I was suffocating, you bastard," she snaps angrily. "Don't worry, I won't be in your space at all. Now go, safe journey and all that shit."
He doesn't dare reach for a kiss as he leaves their home, slamming the door behind him.
...
"Are you okay?"
"No," Bash mumbles, downing his drink. "How long until we land?"
His father checks the screen in front of him. "Four hours. You should get some sleep."
"I'm good."
"Bash-"
"I don't want to talk," Bash says shakily. He sniffles, wiping his fallen tears as he replays the argument in his head. How quickly they went from joking about sex to screaming names at each other.
Henry sighs. "I'm sorry..."
"What for?"
Henry shrugs. "If there was someone else who could take the case on, I would have given them it. It's hard trying to please everyone."
"I don't want to please everyone. I just want to please..."
"Kenna," Henry says knowingly. "She'll understand."
"She won't. This is the second year we've been doing the same damn song and dance about this," Bash tells him. "She said I'm married to my job and that may be true. But I'm married to her and I don't know how to make her happy or content at least."
Henry stirs his drink slowly. "You can stay for a week and return home. I'll try and pull everything together."
"I can't let you do it alone. It's my project, I will see it through," Bash replies. "I've never been one to quit something."
"And that might be your issue," his father mutters. "Send her some flowers or we can stop by her favourite store."
Bash looks away, rolling his eyes. He's sure as hell his wife won't appreciate meaningless designer branded gifts. She used to be like that but now, it will seem like he's mocking her for how she used to be. She's a lot more selfless these days and she spends a lot less.
"I'll see what I can do," Bash mumbles after a while but doubts anything will bring them back from this.