My First, My Last, My Everything

Chapter 29

Gabriella

I stepped into the kitchen and looked around, taking in the elegant marble counters and the charming chandelier hanging above.

There was another person in the room, a petite woman in her early forties, standing by the stove.

Her curly dark hair framed her face, and when she turned, her eyes locked onto mine. They were a mesmerizing aquamarine color.

"Hello there. Sorry for not noticing you, hun. You must be one of the guests, right? Gabriella, if I remember correctly?" I snapped back to the moment and returned her friendly smile.

"Yeah, that's me. And you must be Alice, the cook." She grinned, removing her oven mitts and extending a hand.

"Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." I shook her hand while maintaining a friendly smile.

"So, what can I assist you with, Miss Antonio?" she inquired.

"Actually, please call me Gabriella. I was just wondering if it's okay for me to make something to eat. I hope that's alright, considering it's your kitchen." She waved off my concern with a gesture.

"Absolutely! But why? Didn't you enjoy the dinner tonight?" I quickly shook my head.

"The food looks great, and I'm sure it tastes wonderful. It's just that there are a few items I prefer not to eat, and I'm allergic to seafood." I replied, my voice softening. Concern showed on her face.

"Oh dear, I apologize for that oversight. I included salmon in the menu without knowing. I'm sorry about that."

"No need to apologize, really. It's not your fault. So, do you happen to have any cheese and some bread? I was thinking of making a ham sandwich." She nodded and opened the fridge.

"Will a sandwich be enough for you?" A familiar voice chimed in from behind. 

 I turned around and found Anthony leaning against the kitchen doorway.

Alice brought out some cheese and ham from the fridge, placing them on the table along with a plate of bread.

"Here you go, Gabriella. Enjoy," Alice said before exiting the kitchen, leaving me alone with Anthony.

He strolled closer and stood on the other side of the counter, offering a small smile.

"About what happened earlier... I'm sorry that I wasn't thinking straight. I just remembered your food preferences and it just slipped out." I glanced up, butter knife still in hand.

"No worries. They're minor slip-ups. No one will suspect anything," I assured him, resuming buttering the bread.

"True. And about what I said at the gym today—" My focus snapped back to him, and I let out a sigh.

"Let's not talk about it, please. We've said what needed saying. Apologizing won't change anything. Let's just move forward and forget about the whole conversation." He held my gaze, but I turned back to my sandwich, layering cheese on the bread.

"Alright, if that's what you want, than fine. But I made a mistake Gabby and I still care about you," he admitted. I froze for a moment before looking back at him.

"You still care about me?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I do. Do you?" His tone was gentle, making my heart race.

"Why are you telling me this?" I quickly pressed him and he just shrugged.

"I need to know. We've been honest about what we say to each other so far, so I'm wondering if you still feel the same way about me."

I scoffed.

"And what will that change?"

"Everything!" He shot back with a determined look, which earned him a narrowed gaze from me.

"No. Don't fucking give me that . There is no 'us' anymore, Anthony. Let me remind you, you're the one who walked away, not me. This is what you wanted after our breakup, to become these bitter enemies against each other. So, we're not having this conversation. Living under one roof won't magically change things between us. As soon as we find Liana, we're leaving. You can go back to plotting my death in your twisted fucked up ways and we'll all pretend this was just a stupid nightmare." I snapped sharply at him.

Anger and pain surged through me after speaking those words. How could he just approach me like this and lay out his lingering affection so blatantly?

After all I've endured because of him, he now decides to admit he still cares about me?

He's the one who pushed us apart, the one who desired my title. Look at the mess my life is because of him.

Nah, fuck this!

I grabbed my sandwich and stormed out of the kitchen, not bothering to look back.

"Gabby wait." I halted at the sound of my seldom-used nickname. He rarely called me Gabby.

Even when we were together, it was "Merliah" or "Gabriella," but never Gabby. The last time he used that name was when he confessed his love to me, four years ago in the college parking lot.

Exhaling heavily, I turned around to face him. Suddenly, warm lips pressed onto mine. I was taken aback but found myself instinctively responding.

My eyes closed, and a familiar tingling sensation enveloped me just from his kiss. It made me realize how much I missed this feeling, missed being close to him.

But deep down, I understood I was making a wrong choice, one that could shape my entire future.

So, I broke away, glaring at him.

"Gab—" The sound of my palm connecting with his cheek halted his words. He turned his face slightly, absorbing the impact of the slap.

Slowly, he turned back, fingers grazing the spot where I struck him. His gaze met mine, expression blank.

"Don't that again and I will fucking rip your head off," I ground out through gritted teeth, eyes locked on his.

I stormed out of the kitchen, clutching my sandwich tightly, without a second look back, my heart racing from both the kiss and the pain that had just been triggered by what he did.