“Lucian, this wasn’t just selfishness and avoidance. It was self-sabotage. Guilt. You didn’t think you deserved what you had with her.”
I press my palms into my eyes, feeling the ache build. “Because I didn’t.”
I don’t,I add shamefully, in my head.
TWENTY-TWO
Aarohi
“Are you sure?” He asks.
It’s become a ritual by now. Every time I get a personal package at my building’s concierge, I already know what it is.
Food.
Spinach ravioli. Eggplant parmesan. Gnocchi ripieni. Kadhai-fucking-paneer.
It’s not daily, but it’s scheduled now. For the past two weeks, like clockwork, I’ve been receiving freshly cooked homemade meals every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday.
I don’t know who told Lucian that I hadn’t been eating properly that first week after ourbreakup—and I use that term very loosely—but there’s definitely a rat in the United Rohi Alliance.
And I’m 99% sure it’s Liam.
Which is why, more often than not, it’s his burden to collect the deliveries before they even make it to me.
“It’s chicken biryani this time,” Liam announces with a shit-eating grin, waving the box in my face.
We’re in my building’s concierge area. And he looks annoyingly comfortable in my territory.
I groan and swat his hand away. “Do whatever you want with it. Throw it. Eat it. I don’t care. I’m getting late for bed.”
“It’s eight p.m.,” he deadpans.
“I have a date. With Netflix.”
I turn to walk away, but the rat trails behind like a shadow.
“Oh, c’mon, Barista girl. He imported saffron from India just to get it right. I swear it’s delicious.”
I whirl around and jab a finger into his chest. “How wouldyouknow?”
“Uh... I...shit.”
If I squint any harder, I might need prescription daggers. He frickin’ cookswith him.Bastard.
I start toward the elevator again. All I want is my bed, my blanket, and the ability to sleep without dreaming.
“Tell you what,” Liam says, jogging to catch up. “I’ll eat half of it with you.”
“Traitors don’t get invited up,” I mutter.
He just laughs, completely unfazed, and follows me all the way to my couch like he owns the place.
And just like that, I end up tasting the food Lucian made for me.
For the first fucking time.
At least hiscooking skillsaren’t fake.
