Page 114 of Trust Me

“I’m going to go change and wash my hands before we eat,” I tell her.

Minutes later, I return to the dining area to find Eve and Kyle standing by the table. I notice for the first time how messy the apron she’s wearing is. There’s red sauce splashed all over the front. I don’t let myself look over at the kitchen to see how much of a mess that is.

“Ta-da,” Eve says as she steps aside and gestures to the table.

In the middle is a large pan of lasagna next to a basket filled with garlic bread.

“It looks amazing, Ladybug.” I kiss the top of her head.

“As the man of the house, Kyle should be the one to cut into dinner and serve it,” she says.

“I, what?” I screech.

She blinks at me like what she said makes perfect sense.

“You’re the chef,” Kyle interjects. “It’s only right that you make the first cut into the meal you worked so hard to prepare.”

Eve nods and then shrugs.

Kyle’s gaze locks with mine when we both hear a crunching sound as Eve makes the first cut. My stomach sinks a little but I don’t say anything. Minutes later, we’re all sitting around the table. Eve eagerly looks between the both of us, anticipating us taking our first bite of the dinner she prepared.

I watch Kyle as he’s the first one to taste our dinner. I do my best to ignore his pink lips as they wrap around the tines of the fork. Despite his lips being a distraction, I don’t miss the crunching sound as he chews.

He flinches for a moment but quickly covers it. His chewing slows as he brings his fist to cover his mouth. Kyle’s poker face is good enough to fool Eve but not me.

I take a bite of the lasagna on my plate. Almost immediately, I know why he responded the way he did. The noodles are hard, almost cutting my tongue as I try to bite through them. Additionally, the taste is … off.

Our eyes lock and a silent communication occurs between me and my husband.

Neither one of us wants to be the bearer of bad news.

“Ladybug,” I say after forcing that first bite down my throat. “Um, did you, by chance, boil the noodles before you put the lasagna in the oven?”

She frowns, her bottom lip poking out. “Was I supposed to do that?”

I take a sip of the lemonade-iced tea she made and almost gag from the amount of sugar in it.

“The recipe didn’t say I had to do that.” She hands me her phone with the recipe on it.

“This is for the no-boil noodles. But I only had the kind you have to boil first, here.”

Eve’s shoulder’s fall along with my heart.

“It’s okay,” I console. “It’s a mistake anyone could’ve made.”

“No, I screwed up,” she says, rising out of her chair.

Despite my assurances and gentle voice, Eve’s bottom lip starts trembling. My heart crashes against my ribcage.

“Eve,” Kyle says, startling me. He rises from his chair. “Your aunt’s right. An honest mistake. It could’ve happened to anyone. Hell, that’s why I keep my ass—” he stops and looks at me, “self out of the kitchen. I mess recipes up all of the time.”

I give him a smile of gratitude.

Unfortunately, Eve’s already in her downward spiral. I’m not even sure she’s hearing what he’s said.

“No, it’s all my fault. I ruined our family dinner.” Big, fat tears start streaming down her cheeks. “This is why no one wants me around. I always screw things up. I’m too much of a mess.”

I go to wrap my arms around her, but she pulls away and rushes out of the kitchen.

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