We makeit to the main dining area, and I’m honestly shocked I didn’t tumble down the stairs with how badly my legs are still trembling. The knock at the door had sent my heart straight into my throat. And when Miles did nothing to stop feasting on me like a three course meal, I was certain it had stopped beating altogether.
He makes me feel weightless and untethered. I’ve never felt so free in my life. After everything my stalker has done to make me feel trapped, cornered, and afraid, I never imagined I’d find that freedom in another person's arms. But with Miles, I do.
The dining area is one of the most lavish rooms in the house. The crystal chandelier hanging above the massive dining table is such a breathtaking centerpiece, I can’t help but admire the way it catches the light. Every detail around us feels carefully chosen, expensive, and completely foreign to me.
I try not to let the extravagance overwhelm me, but I can’t stop myself from noticing how different Miles and I are. Not in the ways that matter, of course. In every way that counts, we fit together perfectly. Our souls were always meant to find each other. But the lives we came from couldn’t be more different.
Miles pulls out my chair, and I feel a warmth spread through me as I thank him for the unexpected act of chivalry. It's such a small gesture, but it means more than he probably realizes. I’ve never had anything like this—not that I don’t find myself worthy of being treated so respectfully, I just never thought I would be so lucky to find someone who would make me feel this cherished.
Julius pulls out the chair across from mine for Miles, who thanks him before taking his seat at the table. A woman dressed in a crisp white button down shirt, black slacks, and a white apron wheels in a large cart carrying two steaming plates of pasta. My eyes widen at the sight, the smell alone making my stomach rumble.
She sets the plates in front of us before placing two wine glasses on the table and filling them with a pale white wine. The entire thing feels so surreal, like I’m sitting in the middle of a world that was never meant for someone like me.
“Thank you so much, Esmeralda. I always loved when you made this.”
The woman smiles down at Miles, her expression softening as she reaches over and rubs his back affectionately.
“Anything for you,Mijo. I’m so happy to be back here with you again. Please, eat.”
She claps her hands together excitedly before nodding toward me. I smile back, touched by her warmth, and wait until she disappears back into the kitchen before picking up my wine glass and taking a small sip.
“Uh…Miles?” I ask, glancing down at the plate in front of me. “What exactly is this?”
I immediately feel embarrassed for asking. It sounds ridiculous, but I’ve never had anything like this before. The entire evening has felt like stepping into another world, and I have no idea what half of it even is.
“It’s lobster pasta with a champagne cream sauce,” he says with a smile. “It’s absolutely delicious. One of my favorite meals Esmeralda used to make for us.” He tilts his head slightly. “Have you had lobster before?”
I shake my head.
I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but I can’t help it. The only seafood I’ve ever eaten was frozen fish sticks I had to microwave myself.
“Just try it,” he says softly. “I promise you’ll love it.”
I pick up my fork and swirl the pasta around on it, making sure to catch a piece of lobster so I can get the full experience. My eyes flick up to find Miles watching me, and I try not to let his attention make me nervous as I bring the fork to my mouth. The second the flavor hits my tongue, my eyes widen.
Oh my god. He wasn’t exaggerating. It’s incredible.
“Holy shit, this is good!” I moan around a mouth full of pasta.
Any manners I possess have completely flown out of the window. I’ve never tasted anything quite like this before. It’s creamy, rich, and somehow has a sweetness I wasn’t expecting. I’m not sure if it’s the lobster or the champagne cream sauce creating that perfect balance of flavors, but if I could eat this every day for the rest of my life, I absolutely would.
“I knew you would like it.” Miles says with a chuckle. “Just wait until you’ve tried her dessert. Esmeralda makes the best food. I’m just sad I missed out on it for so long.”
He starts eating his own pasta, and I find myself thinking about his words.
“How long has it been?” I ask quietly. “You know…since you’ve been here.”
He twirls some of the pasta with his fork, clearing his throat before answering.
“About three years,” he says quietly. “After my parents died, I stayed with my uncle for a while. I’d still come here everynow and then, but being in this house without them…it hurt too much. Eventually, I just stopped coming.”
Listening to Miles talk about his past makes my heart ache for him. I know what it feels like to lose a parent you love, but to have a close relationship with both of your parents and lose them both so young? I can’t imagine the kind of pain that must leave behind.
In some ways, I guess I understand that feeling. I may not have lost my father when I was young, but when he started drinking and became the cruel, unrecognizable version of himself, it felt like I lost him anyway. The good parts of him, the father I remember before everything changed, it feels like he disappeared with my mom.
I shiver, thinking about the man who should have protected me and instead became the person I needed protection from. I'll never understand how he could have been so cruel to me when I did nothing to deserve it. I could understand why he was upset with my mother, but instead of hurting her, he should have just left. He could have been a better man, but he chose the wrong path.
“I'm so sorry, Miles,” I whisper. “And I hate saying that because no amount of apologies can bring your parents back. I used to hate when people would say the same thing to me because it never felt like enough, but you deserved to keep them. You deserve to have them here with you.”
