Page 63 of Carved in Ruin

Good God. It’sbitter. And salty. How is that even possible? My face contorts as I spit it into a napkin, glancing up tofind Rafael watching me with faint amusement, still eating like nothing’s wrong.

“How are you eating that?” I ask, horrified.

He shrugs, not even pausing between bites. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s good.”

I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. Either he’s lying to spare my feelings, or he’s an alien who doesn’t taste food like the rest of us.

I settle for picking at the fruit, trying to ignore the bitter aftertaste of my pancake disaster. I glance at him, his broad frame hunched slightly as he devours another pancake, and something about the ease of it—this shared moment—makes me pause.

“I’m going to fetch something,” I say, standing and leaving the kitchen before he can respond.

In the bedroom, I open the drawer and pull out the small velvet box. When I return to the table, I sit down and slide the box across to him.

“What’s this?”

“Your wedding ring,” I answer back, sipping my juice like this isn’t a whole thing.

“A ring?” He says the word like it’s an alien concept, his brow furrowing as he picks up the box. “I don’t wear jewelry.”

I place my glass down. “Well,” I say with a casual shrug, “if you want this rock to stay on my finger”—I lift my hand, the massive diamond catching the morning light—“then you wear the ring.”

“Mila,” he warns, his voice dropping into that tone that makes most people back down.

“Rafael,” I shoot back, matching his tone, refusing to budge. “I’m negotiating.”

He sighs before flipping open the box. The silver band glints against the velvet, and he hesitates for just a second before sliding it onto his finger.

“There,” he says, holding up his hand briefly like it’s a chore he’s completed.

“The moment you remove it,” I sing-song, smirking as I pick up another piece of fruit, “so do I.”

He glares at me, but there’s no real heat behind it. Instead of responding, he stuffs another bite of pancake into his mouth.

I grin to myself, biting into a strawberry, knowing I’ve won this round.

“Oh, I’m going to my father’s place today.” I drop the words casually, like they’re not a loaded grenade in the room.

Rafael freezes mid-chew, his eyes snapping to mine. “Hell. No.”

I brace myself.

“If it’s to see Layla, you bring her here. You arenotgoing there,” he growls.

“Look, Rafael.” I force calm into my voice. “I’m not pretending I don’t understand where you’re coming from, but I have to go. There’s still some stuff there I need to move here.”

“What stuff?”

“Clothes. Jewelry.”

“You have the card. Buy everything you need. Don’t take anything from there.”

“No, Rafael. I’m not going to let him stand in the way of things I want to do ever again—even if it’s just clothes.”

“Then let me take you.”

The thought sends a shiver down my spine. “No. Please, no,” I say quickly. His eyes narrow, reading too much into my reaction, so I rush to explain. “Father hasn’t been… mentally stable lately. I don’t want to agitate him.”

“Not because I’m scared of him,” I add firmly, “but because I don’t want him taking it out on Layla. Please.”

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