Burnt Spaghetti Novels & Stories

He retorted, pouting and giving me puppy eyes. “Well, then it’s a good thing I brought you a separate container of spaghetti.” I grinned, wiggling my eyebrows. “You do love me!!! I knew it! Thank you, Rivs. You need to show D how to make your famous spaghetti. But say it without her knowing I asked you to. Baby girl gets butt hurt when she burns something or the food comes out bland. So you can imagine how she’ll get if she finds out I don’t like her spaghetti.” He frowned and blew out his cheeks.

Sophie admitted, jotting something down. I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You two are impossible.” “We’re thorough,” Fatima corrected, grinning. --- By lunchtime, my cravings had shifted again. This time, I wanted spaghetti. But not just any spaghetti—I needed it to be spicy. So spicy it could probably melt a hole in the wall. Jake, bless him, didn’t even question it as he helped me whip up a batch of extra-spicy marinara sauce. But when I sat down to eat, Sophie and Fatima were there, watching me like hawks.

he growled, glaring at the bread on the platter in my hands as if it personally offended him. "Garlic bread." I pasted a patently false smile on my face as I dropped two pieces onto his place. One lands directly on top of his spaghetti, splattering more of the running, watery sauce. "Eat up, Mr. DiFronzo.”

She quickly turned back to the stove. The pasta boiled over. He reached past her to turn down the heat, and his arm brushed hers, and neither of them acknowledged it, and the sauce burnt on the bottom as they avoided each other's gaze. They ate it anyway. It tasted like burnt tomatoes. Lillian signed. “It's terrible,” he laughed. She also laughed. They looked at each other as they laughed hard. She pointed her fork at him. "You made it worse." "I turned down the heat." "After it burnt."

I blurted out some flimsy excuse, "Oh, just curious, that's all." He seemed to buy it and went back to hosting. I returned to my seat, my stomach in knots. What were the odds that the girl I had randomly met at the concert was Leon's sister-in-law? If he ever found out, could our friendship survive? The wedding's crystal chandeliers were so dazzling they made my head spin. The red carpet rolled out from the banquet hall's entrance to the stage, shimmering like a river of light. My grip on the wine glass was so tight my knuckles turned white, and I could not stop sneaking peeks at the entrance.

Valdanus answered. “Ah, yes, spaghetti. You should try it. It's really delicious.” Maria nudged and continued to eat. I looked at the food again and picked up the spoon and scooped some spaghetti and quickly put it in my mouth, and in that moment my mouth exploded in the wonderful taste.

He was like a disgruntled woman with a grudge. “You’ve been mad at me for so long. Am I not mad at you too? Your acting was so real. How do you think I’ve been these days? I can only make you spaghetti, so take it or leave it!” She was angry now, too. Mark narrowed his eyes even more, but his mood got better. Her words pleased him. Since he was suffering, so was she. Both of them were suffering… She made him spaghetti with meat sauce. It was delicious, but there were herbs in it, and he did not like having too many herbs in it. He ate the spaghetti clean and left the meat sauce on the plate. She glared at him and ate the rest of the meat sauce.

"We've been together for seven years. I remember coming home late one night and finding her asleep on the couch. When she woke up, her hair was a mess. She yawned as she rubbed her eyes and told me she made me soup to sober up. "That look really killed the mood, and I lost my appetite for the hangover soup she made. I suddenly realized that I don't love her anymore. She used to be my goddess, the girl I pursued for two whole years. "But now, that goddess had turned into an ordinary woman who didn't bother to care about herself anymore. But we've been together for seven years. We were classmates. Our lives are too tangled up. Breaking up isn't easy. God, what a nightmare."

Spaghetti, tomatoes, garlic, olive oil and other herbs. Travis leaned against the doorway at first. Arms crossed with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re really serious about this spaghetti, huh?” he teased, stepping closer. “Yes… and if I let you handle it, we’d be eating burnt pasta.” I didn’t look up. I was by the counter stirring the sauce gently. “Common… must you spell it out?” He chuckled and brushed past me like he wanted to help with the wooden spoon, but instead, he lingered a little too close, his arm brushing mine. “I can be very helpful, you know.”