𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓 | 𝟏𝟖+

THIRTY-SIX

A L Y S S A

"Baby, you were the love of my life and maybe you don't know it's lost till you find it."

. . .

On the car ride home, it's silent. Roman is focused on the road, and I'm still stewing over what happened in the restroom with Vivienne.

"You're awfully quiet," he notices, and it's like he can tell I'm beyond annoyed.

"How observant," I mutter, and look out of the window. The city is flying by, the lights of all the buildings blurring together.

"Baby, I didn't know Vivienne was going to be there tonight, you would've known otherwise."

"Yet, she always keeps on popping up," I sigh and turn to look at him in my seat. We're nearing his building, and he's about to drive into the underground parking lot.

Soon enough, he's parking in his spot. I open my mouth.

"She confronted me in the restroom, you know?"

His head snaps in my direction, and he furrows his eyebrows. "What?"

"Yeah, she thought it'd be nice to try and intimidate me. Told me you'd grow bored of me eventually."

"Wait..."

I get out of the car and slam the door shut, rattled by what went down tonight at the ball. What was supposed to be a nice evening with my boyfriend, turned into something sour and unpleasant.

I hear Roman get out of the car and he hurries after me as I walk toward the elevator.

"Baby, I had no idea she was going to do any of that," he says and his hand lands on my waist. He pulls me closer toward him and buries his nose in my curls. "I'm sorry that happened, she shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay, it's not your fault," I assure him and turn around in his arms. "I'm just irritated with her."

"I understand," he says and leans down to brush a kiss across my forehead. "How about I make you a snack to help lift things up, hmm?"

"I'd love a snack," I grin and lean against him. Together, we walk toward his front door and enter the apartment.

"What are you feeling like, baby?" he asks. I take off my shoes and follow him into the kitchen, taking a seat atop one of the stools.

I recall the amount of times we ate ramen in the middle of the night, after a fucking session and we were both left hungry.

"I've been craving ramen for some time now," I say, and he nods. "Then that's what the lady gets," he says and starts to work around the kitchen.

I get up and offer my help.

"I can make it for you, don't worry," he says and gently pushes me back toward the stool.

"But I want to help," I pout, but he stubbornly shakes his head.

"Sit," he orders, and my body immediately complies.

I let my chin rest on the palm of my hand as I watch him take everything out.

"I don't know why watching you cook is so therapeutic," I say. He's started to boil some eggs and is now cutting up the vegetables that go with the ramen.

"If it makes your evening better, I'm happy to do anything you want," he winks, and I feel the butterflies in my stomach.

The noodles are boiling now, as well, and he adds the broth to the water along with the miso paste and starts to work on the vegetables.