CHAPTER 30: The Phone call.

Roseline's POV

""What are you doing here?" I asked, the words catching in my throat.

She didn't answer. Instead, she stepped toward me with a warm, easy smile, as if she hadn't been absent from my life for years, as if the wreckage of our past meant nothing at all.

Noticing the sudden shift in my posture, Florian squeezed my hands.

"Everything okay?" he murmured.

I nodded slowly, though my eyes remained locked on the woman standing in front of me. She possessed a striking resemblance to my late mother. This was Aunt Tilda. For years, merely hearing her name turned my stomach; seeing her in person was entirely worse.

She had abandoned our family the moment my mother drew her last breath, vanishing without a trace. In the beginning, panic consumed us. Terrified of what might have happened to her, my father went so far as to hire a search party, but the trail went cold. It wasn't until a few years ago that a family acquaintance spotted her in Paris. She wasn't just surviving; she was thriving. She had a good job, a new life, and a child.

When she finally decided to grace us with a visit a few years later, my father swallowed his pride and welcomed her in, despite the resentment eating at him. But I couldn't play along. I hated the very sight of her.

"I came to see my family," she said.

"Family? Oh please, don't lie to yourself."

"Don't tell me you're still mad at me," Aunt Tilda said.

I rolled my eyes and turned away from her, but she stepped closer, reaching a hand toward me.

"Roseline, please, can we just talk?"

I said nothing, keeping my gaze fixed anywhere but on her face.

“What happened years ago is in the past now, stop digging up old wounds”

Seriously??

"She said she doesn't want to talk to you," Florian said, his voice calm but firm, stepping slightly in front of me.

Aunt Tilda's eyes narrowed at him.

"And who are you? Why are you speaking for her?"

Florian didn't answer her. He didn't even look at her again. He simply turned to me and whispered, "Come, let's go, Roseline."

I nodded and let him lead me away, my hand tucked safely in his as we walked past her without another word.

She just stood there staring at us, probably in shock but I didn't care at all.

The car ride back was silent. Florian didn't ask me anything, didn't push me to explain who she was or what had happened between us. He just sat beside me, and when he noticed my hand trembling slightly in my lap, he reached over and held it, his thumb tracing gentle circles against my skin until the shaking slowly stopped.

I was grateful for his silence more than anything else he could have said.

It felt nice to know I had some by my side even if it was just for a while.

We headed back to the restaurant afterward to pack up for the night and also because I forgot something there earlier when I was rushing to go see my Dad.

The chefs had all left after their big celebrations party.

The building quiet and dark by the time we walked in.

"Why does it feel so quiet in here?" I muttered, flipping the light switch.

The moment the lights came on, a chorus of voices erupted from every corner of the kitchen.

"SURPRISEEEEE!"

Both of us jumped, startled, and I nearly knocked over a tray on the counter beside me. Florian's hand shot out instinctively to catch it before it fell, and when I turned to look at him, wide eyed and still catching my breath, he was already laughing.

I couldn't help it, I started laughing too.

Gabriel stepped forward from the crowd of chefs and kitchen staff, a huge grin on his face.

"You guys really thought we forgot about you two?" he said. "We missed the both of you at the official celebration party after the cook-a-thon win, so we figured, why not bring the party to you instead?"

"You didn't have to do all this," Florian said, though he was clearly touched, looking around at the streamers someone had hastily strung along the shelves and the cake sitting proudly on the counter.

"Nonsense," Gabriel said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You two deserve it. Now come on, let's celebrate properly."

The music started up not long after, someone's phone connected to a small speaker, and soon enough the kitchen had transformed into a makeshift dance floor. People were laughing, dancing, clapping along, and for a while I let myself forget about what had happened with aunt Tilda entirely, I let my forget all the things on my head, all my worries as I danced to the rhythm of the beat and just enjoyed being surrounded by people who felt more like family than my actual family sometimes did.

At some point I looked around and realized I hadn't seen Florian in a while. I scanned the room, but he was nowhere among the dancing crowd.

I made my way to the back, thinking maybe I'd find him there, when I heard Gabriel's voice coming from around the corner, low and hushed, clearly on the phone with someone.

I paused, not wanting to interrupt, but something in his tone made me stay where I was.

"I can't tell him right now," Gabriel was saying, his voice tight with frustration. "You have to speak to him yourself."

There was a pause as whoever was on the other end responded.

"The CEO doesn't want him to keep acting as head chef anymore," Gabriel continued. "He said—"

I didn't hear the rest.

I stood frozen in place, my heart suddenly pounding so loud I was sure it would give me away.

Could they be talking about Florian?

Was he about to get fired?

What does he mean by the CEO doesn't want him to be head chef anymore?