I reached Ma’am Jeena’s coffee shop and paused, taking in the new spooky sign she’d hung up. The usual warm and friendly board had been replaced with one that readWitch’s Brew Caféin swirling black letters. Outside, she’d decked the place in Halloween flair—witch hats, pumpkins, and a few hanging bats. The door itself was wrapped in fake cobwebs.
I pushed inside, instantly hit by the scent of cinnamon and pumpkin spice. The décor inside matched the outside—dim orange lighting, cobwebs in every corner, and new tiny plastic ghosts hanging from the ceiling. Ma’am Jeena was behind the counter, stirring something in a tall glass.
Her latest Halloween concoction, no doubt.
“Hey, Ainsley!” she called as she worked. “You’re just in time. I’m trying out the new ‘Vampire Latte.’”
I frowned, confused and amused.
“Think bloody red foam and a pumpkin-spiced twist. What do you think?” She grinned, eyes alight with excitement.
I nodded, greeting her with a tired smile. “Sounds like people will love it.”
And she had plenty of customers to test it on. The place was already alive with people who had undoubtedly heard about all her concoction.
I got to work.
As I moved through the café, I was painfully aware of the warmth from the shoes, their constant heat comforting in a way I hated to admit. Every step was a reminder of him, as if his presence followed me wherever I went. And I knew that was part of his plan—to make sure I felt him with every step, even when I wanted to be angry. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to scream or sink deeper into the comfort. But I kept moving.
Afternoon came and went.
He didn’t text or even show up here. Not like I was expecting him to or anything. I knew he wouldn’t. But he’d be happy toknow my break time was filled with thoughts of him, of how he might have suffered after the fall. I was alive, thanks to him. But did that give him the right to mess with my life because he saved it? Probably not.
Probably.Now it wasprobably. Okay, great. He was winning.
Dusk came, and I waved Ma’am Jeena goodbye, my body aching for a rest as I walked. Serving and attending to orders was exciting, but it drained me. The thrill didn’t outweigh the exhaustion.
Something was in front of my house. A food box. Different from last night’s. My heart kicked up a notch. I rushed closer and climbed up my front porch, kneeling in front of it, pulling out the paper that rested on top.
Pretend it’s not from me. Don’t go hungry.
My pulse quickened as I stared at the dark orange box.
Pretend it’s not from me.Bastard. How could I pretend?
“Asshole. Will you let me stay mad in peace?” I muttered, my vision blurring. I clenched my fists, trying to summon the strength to ignore it like last night. But instead, I grabbed the box and carried it inside. After locking the door behind me, I brought it to the kitchen. I had thrown away last night’s box this morning, and I clenched my fists again, hoping to repeat that resolve.
At least, I should see what’s inside first.
I set the box on the counter and slowly lifted the lid. There were five sets, each packed with different meals. My eyes widened as I opened each and every one of them. My jaw dropped. He knew. He knew exactly what I loved—everything in the box was one of my favourites.
I bit my lip, fighting the tears that stung my eyes. Damn it. Why was I crying? I wanted to beat myself for tearing up, for being so weak. But the food—each meal looked like it had beenmade from scratch, home-cooked. Could Theon have made this himself? I shook my head. Impossible. It couldn’t be. Never
I picked up a small portion oflasagnafrom one of the sets and took a bite. The salty flavour hit my tongue, and I froze. Yes. Yeah. Definitely home-made. And somehow, I just knew it was Theon’s doing.
Suddenly, laughter bubbled up in my chest. My heart warmed at the thought of him cooking for me. Theon. Theon cooked. It was impossible to picture him standing in a kitchen, trying his best with ingredients and pots, but he’d done it. He didn’t even sneak inside like always, just left it at the door like he didn’t want to piss me.
“Why was he being a gentleman all of a sudden?” I mumbled.
And just like that, I sat down, unable to resist, and began eating the food. The taste was bad—terrible, even—but I couldn’t help the laughter that spilled from me with every bite. It was ridiculous, really, but it was so Theon. So imperfect, so strangely thoughtful.
He sent me one million dollars.
If I ever get my hands on him, I swear I’ll kill him.
I’d forgotten about it until this morning, when the bank alert nearly knocked me off my bed. One million dollars. It wasn’t a joke. He actually meant what he said that night.Holy shit.
I was still struggling to wrap my head around it. My heart hadn’t stopped pounding, and my head felt like it was spinning out of control. I thought about staying home today—maybe hide out, avoid Ma’am Jeena’s shop, avoid everything. But I knew if I stayed in that house, I’d lose. He’d win. I’d give in, and I mightjust end up at his front door because I was so close to texting him earlier.
