I stare guiltily at her right hand, bangaded, twisted, useless. Helplessly, I trail the visible scars up her wrist to her elbow. Third-degree burns don’t ever fully heal. Guilt builds in my chest. Why, oh why didn’t I move faster?

Images of her on the ground, tears pouring from her eyes as she clutches her bleeding, smoldering hand invade my mind. I try to push them back. It’s the same mental battle I’ve been having since that awful day. I swore then never to let it happen again. I step into the kitchen, ready to take over the breakfast preparations. My mother is usually the one doing the cooking now a days, but she couldn’t make it this morning. I can’t really remember why. “Abby, let-”

“No!” she snaps. “I’m making breakfast. Don’t bother me.” She picks up some pepper and sprinkles it over the eggs. The bottle slips, covering the halfway-solid goop with black spices. “Shit!” She slams the pepper down and grits her teeth. Before I can help her, she hisses, “I can at least make eggs.” Tears well up in her eyes.

Tears…more tears. Such horrible demons, they stole my love’s smile! For six months, it’s been the same. I don’t want to live like this. No more arguments. No more guilt! Abby, please…

She looks up at me and says again, “I can still make eggs!” Her tone is defiant, and her eyes are angry. But, behind the heat of her rage is deep seated pain. The kitchen used to be her kingdom. As my mother once said, the kitchen is a woman’s domain. To Abby, it was so much more. The kitchen was her empire, the food within her subjects, and she was their empress. She worked each ingredient with grace and precision. Whenever she got a new recipe, her eyes would dance! She couldn’t wait to try it out in her kitchen. Since the accident, I’ve denied her that joy. I won’t let her get hurt again.

Through the tears, she pleads with me. “Please,” she says, “Let me do this. If only this.”

Ok, Abby. I back away. She straightens up and wipes her eyes with her sleeve. “Go sit down already. You’re making me nervous.”

“You don’t have to go to any extremes, “I say as I sit down at the table. “Cheese will be fine.”

“You should have said something earlier,” she comments. “I already sliced the tomatoes and sausage. Oh, and the chives.”

I grin. It is almost like old times…except she still isn’t smiling. Why? I gave in, but she’s still in pain! Isn’t there anything I can do?

I lay my head in my hands and sigh, suddenly very tired. I can feel the weight of six months in torment come crashing down on my shoulders. All because of that bastard!

It had been a dream come true for her. She had been invited to compete against one of the top seated chefs in America on national TV. I was so proud of her! We all came to watch her-me, my parents, and her parents. The studio was like an indoor amphitheater, vast and open with two cooking areas filled with every cooking instrument imaginable. We had front row seats. Front row seats! It a seat where I could watch my lovely Abigail shine as she mixed, diced, and steamed her way through the competition. And it was the seat I couldn’t get out of fast enough when that… That… That son of a bitch!

When the judges declared her the winner, he went beserk! Before I could move, his knife was already in her hand, and he was throwing her against the still-hot skillet. Her screams ripped through my heart. And I couldn’t get out of my seat fast enough. One of the assistant chefs tackled him. And Abigail… Abigail… she…

“Done!”

I look up and there she is, her hair frazzled and dried egg on her cheek. Her right arm is pressed securely to her apron-bound chest. And there, in her left hand, is my breakfast, smelling something like indigestion and looking worse. She sets the omelet down in front of me and waits.

It was by far the worst omelet I’ve ever had in my life. The sausage was cold, the tomatoes were too thick, and… You’re not supposed to be able to taste chives, right? The cheese was burnt, the inside was runny, and the pepper rawed my tongue. But I savored every last bite. Because, when I choked down the first mouthful… She smiled.