FORTY NINE

pov : aira

"How are you feeling?" I asked, knowing that I was going to get a snarky response. I held the phone between the crook of my neck and chopped up the beans to throw them in the minestrone I was making for Oliver. Plus, I was craving some soup myself. He seemed to have a headache because of work lately. He had been spending almost half of the day back at work to sort out the mess of his and his mother’s company. He arranged meetings that he had skipped and made new deals that would help the company.

He was sleeping now and he looked extremely tired and worn out so I was calling Samantha to let her know that I would not be coming today to help.

"Nothing like planning a wedding to make you want to punch every person you have ever met in the throat," Samantha said, an underlying tone of sarcasm in it and I could hear the stress in her voice.

"What's wrong now?" I asked.