Chapter Eight

“Are you sure the guy hasn’t left?” I ask.

Alice shakes her head. “He hasn’t. He called me half a minute ago.”

My phone buzzes. A strange number flashes across the screen. Probably the lawyer.

“Hello?”

“Catherine Young?” A man’s voice.

“Yes.”

“I’m inside the café. Where are you?”

I turn to Alice. “The lawyer’s here. Let’s step out so he can talk to you, okay?”

She nods. “We’re coming now, Mr. Kennedy,” I say before hanging up. Together, we leave the restroom and walk toward the café.

Mr. Kennedy’s easy to spot—tall, well-dressed, suitcase by his side at the counter. Alice’s grip on my arm tightens, and I follow her gaze to a guy sitting at a corner table. Dyed pink hair, ripped jacket, and definitely filming something on his phone. I can’t comment on her taste right now—that’s a conversation for another day.

“Is he the one?” I ask quietly.

Alice nods.

Mr. Kennedy approaches us. “Miss Catherine Young. Your father mentioned a case of cyberbullying.” His tone is crisp, professional. He extends a hand toward Alice. “And this must be your friend, Miss…?”

“Alice Marion,” she replies, shaking his hand.

“Where is this friend of yours?”

Alice points toward the guy with pink hair. “That’s him.”

Mr. Kennedy nods. “You girls should wait outside while I have a little chat with our young creator.”

“Let’s go,” I murmur, tugging Alice’s hand.

All the while, Alice’s so-called date doesn’t even glance our way—just keeps talking to his screen like nothing’s happening.

We step outside. The night air brushes against my face, tossing strands of hair across my lips. I pull them back and drop into a seat near the café door.

Alice wipes her tears again, voice trembling. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I swear, I didn’t know it would turn out this way. I thought Alex was a cool guy.”

I pat her head gently. “It’s fine. No need to worry. It’ll be dealt with.” I smile, and she rests her head on my shoulder.

“For once in my life, I acknowledge the benefits of having a super rich friend.” Her voice is muffled, but I can tell she’s smiling. “I’m sorry for how I reacted because of Dominic. He’s been isolating himself since our parents divorced. Dad’s barely home, and Mom never visits, so I just…”

I cut her off softly. “It’s fine, Alice. What I did was bad and—”

“No, you were drunk. Dominic should’ve handled it better. I just thought standing up for him for once would make him feel better.”

“I understand, Alice.”

Silence settles between us. We’ve been friends since kindergarten—the girl with French braids and missing teeth who somehow lit up every room she walked into. She still has that same warmth in her eyes, the one that makes people want to stay.

“Don’t worry about Dominic,” I murmur. “I’ll take care of him.”

We sit quietly, lost in our own worlds. My life isn’t any better. I barely see my parents. Sometimes it feels like I exist just to carry the family name. They never call unless it’s to apologize for something they’ll never fix. It was always Asher who filled that emptiness these past three years. But he’s gone now—along with all those promises of forever. We were happy once.

The door opens, and the pink-haired guy stiffens instantly. Alice notices too. Mr. Kennedy steps out of the café, his expression unreadable.

“Alice, I’m really sorry about everything. Please don’t press charges. I’m begging you.” The guy’s voice trembles as he glances nervously at Mr. Kennedy. “I’ll take my leave now.”

Alice’s eyes dart between the two men. “I’m truly sorry,” he mutters before hurrying down the stairs.

“Mr. Kennedy…” I start, but he raises a hand lightly.

“I’m sure your friend has learned his lesson and won’t be pulling such stunts anytime soon,” he says. “I had him delete the videos from his phone. He promised to erase them completely.”

Alice exhales in relief. “Thank you, Mr. Kennedy.”

“I’ll take my leave now,” he replies, heading toward a black car parked outside.

Alice suddenly throws her arms around my neck, grinning through the tension. “I’m so grateful, Cat. What would I do without you?”

I smile faintly, hugging her back. “Let’s get you home.”

The car ride to Alice’s house is silent. The streets blur past, swallowed by the dark. When the taxi stops outside, we pay and step out into the night air.

Dominic’s face flickers through my mind—those flushed cheeks, that quiet concentration—and before I can stop it, a smile tugs at my lips. He’s probably studying right now, as usual. All the times I’ve been here, he’s never joined Alice and me.

“Won’t you come in?” Alice calls, already at the door. She squints at me. “And why are you smiling like an idiot?”

“I’m an idiot after saving your ass,” I grumble, trailing behind her.

“I said thank you already,” she huffs, “and you should sleep over. It’s late.”

Inside, the house feels too still. The kind of quiet that makes you hear your own heartbeat. I’ve been here a thousand times, but tonight, something feels different—like the walls are holding their breath.

Alice drags herself to her room, flops onto the bed, and pulls out her phone. “Dominic! Make me something to eat,” she calls lazily. “Catherine’s here too, so make for two.”

“That’s Dominic?” I ask, my head tilting. “He’s home?”

“He doesn’t stay out late,” she says, scrolling through her phone.

“He cooks?”

She sits up, giving me a look. “Don’t you know that? He makes everything you eat here.”

I blink, realizing how little I’ve actually noticed. My palms feel warm and damp.

When Alice disappears into the bathroom, I slip out of her room and follow the faint sound of humming down the hall.

Dominic’s in the kitchen, sleeves rolled, moving with quiet rhythm—gathering ingredients, lighting the stove, slicing onions with the ease of habit. The air smells like garlic and something faintly sweet.

He turns suddenly, and I dart my gaze toward the fridge. “Hey, Dominic,” I manage, “I needed water.”

“Okay,” he hums, turning back to his work.

I exhale softly. Just act cool, Catherine. It’s Dominic. Alice’s brother.

I take a sip and glance his way. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

He looks over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth twitching. “It’s not a big deal. Can you cook?”

I shake my head, a little embarrassed. “No. Mom’s never around to teach me. I usually order takeout or eat here.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he says, voice gentle. “You can always learn. Sometimes, when you can’t find something crazy to eat at a restaurant, it’s better to make it yourself.” He smiles, and the warmth in it hits harder than it should.

I step a little closer, watching the way his messy curls fall over his eyes. “What are you making?”

“Just spaghetti and meatballs,” he says with a quiet chuckle. “You can go back to Alice’s room—I’ll bring it soon.”

“I’ll just watch you.”

He doesn’t answer, but the silence between us hums softly, filled with the sound of boiling water and the scrape of the knife. Even at home, he’s dressed like he’s about to attend some winter gala.

He dices onions, blends spices, and stirs the sauce with a calm precision that almost feels hypnotic.

“What’s your favorite food?” I ask.

He pauses, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. My eyes follow the motion.

“I’ve never really thought about it,” he says at last, voice quiet. “But I love cooking. It calms my nerves.”

“Ooh.”

“You should sit down,” he says, tapping the counter beside him.

“There?” I ask, just to be sure.

He nods, and I climb onto the stool. The silence stretches between us—half an hour or maybe more. Dominic moves easily around the kitchen while I sit there, just… watching him. He’s cute, in that unbothered, slow-moving way—but too calm for someone like me. A relationship with him would probably be boring… right?

“Here, taste this.”

Before I can reply, he’s already in front of me, holding out a spoon filled with steaming sauce. The aroma hits first—savory, rich, impossible to resist.

“Try it,” he urges softly.

My eyes lift to his, but his gaze… doesn’t move from my lips. My heartbeat stutters. The kitchen feels smaller suddenly, the hum of the stove too loud, his nearness too warm.

I lean in, mouth parting as the spoon nears my lips.