Page 65 of Overdue I Love You's
It tastes good enough to have its own NYT article.
Swallowing, “Good. Great. Except, I do miss my bed.”
“Preach, sister.” Hina looks deathly. Literally. The face mask from last night did nothing for her. As much as her skin shows zero signs of pores, her eyebags are dragging her down. She’s still beautiful.
“When I started training in the Police force, I had to sleep at the precinct once and it made me cherish my bed a lot.” Rhys takes a bite of his omelette. “This is really good, by the way. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” ignoring the way my body stiffens at thecompliment. I didn’t do it to be praised. Just to show how sorry I am. I’m amesser-upper. I mess up a lot. I have to be better to be seen. “Glad you like it,” too much energy wafts out of me.
“Dean!” Hina waves him over with a dead arm. “Come join us.”
My body does that thing bodies do before jumping off the ledge during bungie jumping or sky diving. Not sure what’s going on here.
“No breakfast?” I say casually, like I didn’t just feel myself about to die.
He looks at me.
I look at him.
I look away.
He’s still looking at me.
“He’s about to go make it, right Dean?” Katarina answers for him.
“Let me then,” I stand for reasons I don’t understand. I didn’t plan on making him anything. The whole ordeal was to not make him breakfast. Ignore him, act like he doesn’t exist.
Except he made me soup from scratch.
This goes against my mental checklist.
“I made you peanut butter oatmeal, Katarina.”
“Hm,” she rubs her shoulder like it aches. “I’d rather have that.” She looks at my soup and I’m possessive. I want to snarl at her.
Again, woah girl. It’s never that serious.
Forcing a smile, “Take it.” I take my spoon out and hand over the bowl. “I’m full anyways.”
“You’re the best,” she responds.
Dean looks over the interaction. Lips pressed together.
He should be happy I didn’t chuck it at him.
“Here,” Rhys extends his plate to me. “Take mine.”
Shaking my head furiously, “I’m good. Really. Totally full.”
My stomach takes that as its cue to growl. “I’ll eat an apple,” I quickly say before dashing into the kitchen.
Humiliating, devastating, absolutelyhorrifying. Can’t believe my stomach betrayed me like that. I thought him and I were friends, besties for life, you know?
Starting today, I don’t know my stomach. He and I are nothing but strangers.
I groan at the sight of dishes in the sink.
Pots, pans, and five different mixing spoons even though I only needed two. No wonder Rosa used to look at me like she wanted to set me on fire every time it was her turn to wash dishes in our house.
