For What Still Burns
Adrian announces, all flair and swagger, “my divine goddess of gluten. Tell me you saved me a cheese danish or I’ll start a revolution out there with the Upper East Side PTA moms.”
I laugh.Real, sudden. Like exhaling after holding my breath too long. Adrian always knows how to anchor me.
“There’s one left,” I say. “But you will have to duel for it.”
“I’d let you win,” he declares. “But only because I love you. Mostly.”
Then, finally, Adrian turns to Damien. His tone cools, but only slightly.
“Mr. Von Adler,” he says. “Didn’t expect to find you among carbs.”
Damien’s jaw shifts. “Nor did I expect to be.”
Bab Populer