The scent of garlic and herbs hits me first, teasing my senses and dragging me out of the warm haze of sleep. My stomach rumbles in response, and I can’t help but smile. It’s the kind of hunger that only the smell of comfort food can provoke. Like my body knew it was time to wake up and eat. It takes a moment to remember where I am. My house. And now, I’m lying here like a potato, tangled in the blanket.
I pull myself up, fixing my hair from my face as I stand and walk toward the kitchen. Celine is singing along to some random playlist, stirring something on the stove with way more focus than someone cooking for just two people should have.
“You know, you’re starting to get pretty good at this,” I say, leaning against the doorframe, grinning. “I didn’t realize you had a hidden talent for
