Christian couldn’t stop the laughter.
It started as a twitch in his lips, then a puff of breath he failed to disguise. But once it slipped through, it came in waves, bubbling up uncontrollably. His shoulders shook, and he leaned back in the chair, laughter spilling from his mouth—soft but relentless.
The fork was still in Mia’s mouth.
She blinked, frozen, the plastic awkwardly lodged between her lips. She stared at him like he’d grown a second head. Christian tried to regain composure, pressing his lips together, but the moment he saw her wide eyes and slightly puffed cheeks, another giggle escaped.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, still chuckling. “I didn’t mean to—”
Mia slowly pulled the fork from her mouth and dropped it on the plate with exaggerated care. The plastic clinked against the
