Tristan Michelson
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Only after I walked out of Nicole’s room did I realize I might have taken it too far.
But strangely, I didn’t want to take back my words. I wanted them to sit with her.
I hated that she was trying to dismiss everything we had by labelling me a f**k buddy. f**k buddies didn’t spend the night at each other’s house, cuddling and s**t. f**k buddies definitely didn’t cook for each other, which was exactly what I realized I was going to do when I went down the stairs.
We were much more than that and if I wasn’t married to her mother, I would have already made sure the whole world knew she was mine.
My feet carried me to the kitchen even before my brain could finish processing it. I looked through the fridge and the cupboards, gathering all the ingredients I’d need for
