"You always did like that one, didn’t you?" He remembered?!? Zane noticed the effect his statement had on me but he didn’t remark on it. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, cool as ever. “Sorry. Did I hit a nerve? Or am I misremembering?” The chef laughed nervously, as if we were joking. Laughing was too much for me, so I calmed myself down and forced a tight smile. “Don’t worry,” Zane murmured under his breath, just low enough for only me to hear. “We’ll find something you can stomach.” I didn’t reply him. The silence drew out. “They brought in the new pastry chef from Tuscany,” Karina offered, breaking the silence. “Said he’s a genius with lavender crème brûlée.” “Lavender,” I murmured, more to myself than her. That had been my idea, once. The softest details, the little things that Zane used to say made him feel like he could breathe. This was torture. Reliving the past dessert by dessert, and having Zane dismiss them all? Why did I suggest this menu anyway? “Lavender crèm
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