KASMINE.
The scent of garlic and butter filled my nostrils, the soft hum of a movie filling the quiet room as I twirled a forkful of spaghetti around my fingers. The fairy lights above us cast a golden glow over Jake's face, highlighting the quiet adoration in his eyes every time he looked at me. And he looked at me a lot. Like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
I tried to focus on the movie. Some sappy romance Claire had gushed about weeks ago, where the leads were caught in an angsty, slow-burn love that made my chest feel tight.
I shouldn't have agreed to this movie.
Because all it did was remind me of another setting. Another room. Another man.
Kester.
I had been curled up on the couch in his living room, flipping through movie options, when he had grabbed the remot
