ZARIA'S POV
The cardboard takeout containers sat between us on the worn wooden coffee table, sending up wisps of steam and a heavy, savory scent of garlic and soy sauce that made my mouth water.
Uh oh, I thought as I stared down at the little pair of wooden chopsticks resting across the top of my box, a quiet wave of dread tightening my chest.
I could handle almost anything and everything else, including losing an almost three years old relationship. s**t, I could probably handle a night at the sss forests as much as I was handling the dull ache crawling through my lower abdomen courtesy of my uninvited monthly visitor.
But using the two tiny sticks of polished birch to shovel lo mein into my mouth? Absolutely not.
No matter how hard I tried to learn, I still couldn't master the art
