Novelas y relatos de In Front Of My Salad

At least, I hope I can say no. I grab Miss Justine’s order and notice they forgot the dressing. Rather than make the cook get it, I rummage through the prep area and find chilled sauce packets and extra croutons. I dress up the salad as my own by crushing the croutons over the Caesar dressing. That way, it’s not just a vast dry crunchy bite. With pride in my creation, I walk over. “Here’s your lunch, and of course, I’ll be back,” I say, flustered hearing my name called.

Everything keeps playing back. “Someone knew exactly where I would be at that time. That wasn't just any random accident, I'm sure.” I mutter to myself. After some time as I was done bathing, I return to my room, changed into a night wear before going down to eat. … Now in the dining room. I sit calmly at the head of the long table with a hunched shoulder, gazing on the plates in front of me. A shallow white porcelain plate rests neatly on the tray, holding a grilled salmon and sauteed vegetables. A creamy mashed potato sits beside it.

The kiss had only awakened what I was trying so desperately to bury inside myself. I groaned under my breath, wiping my hands with the kitchen towel before dragging them down my face. The green onions, bell peppers, tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, and beetroot were done, and I only needed to chop a few leafy vegetables for the salad. “I can’t do this,” I muttered, though it sounded weaker the more I said it. “It's stupid to even think about me and him together.”

I don't bother to turn on the lights and just open the fridge, the bright light of it making me squint my eyes together. Taking a bottle of water and the salad I left here earlier, I go to sit on the counter. I dig into the salad without looking, bringing everything up to my mouth. I feel like I'm swallowing everything down at once. Like I've never eaten anything before in my life. Manners, Aria. Fucking hell. Gulping down the water, I let out a sigh in content and continue to eat my salad in peace. That is, until the light flicks on in the kitchen.

"Let's go take care of those cows. The ones at the rich guy's place are top-notch. They're sure to taste amazing." "Mr. Loris, I was just worried that the beef from the market might not be clean, so I asked my parents to take care of it right in your backyard! Don't worry, we picked out a strong, young calf, and its meat is both tender and tasty! It's definitely fit for someone as distinguished as you." The crowd quickly discovered who was behind Layden's demise. Panic flickered in Janet's eyes, but she put on a brave face and countered. "Don't listen to her! She's made the whole thing up!"

, felt like they carried a hidden meaning. In the kitchen, there were two bags filled with ingredients: seafood, meat, vegetables, everything you could imagine. The quality was high-end, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. Rich people really were different. One meal here probably cost more than half of my monthly salary. After unpacking everything, I began to think of something quick and presentable to make. But when I reached into my pockets, I found a box of rubbers. I froze. It was awkward. I wasn't sure if I should grab it, but I couldn't just throw it away.

Chloe looks horrified. “Of course not! I’m not trying to kill you, or make you all lethargic and stuff. I want you at the top of your game when you come over tonight.” Oh. Gag. "It’s a salad with alfalfa and pomegranate seeds. The hostess at the restaurant agreed with me that pomegranates should totally still be having a moment. They’re so juicy and tart, and they look like little jewels in your food. You’re going to love it."

Not something to remember. "I'll have... salad only." I gave the waitress a tight smile as she responded to my order with a smug smile. "Salad?" He asked me, surprised. His eyebrows drew together and he looked confused. "Yeah salad Zuriel, with cucumbers and tomatoes..." "I know what the fuck salad is..." A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Good. So salad it is." His eyes narrowed, but he continued to look at me like I had lost my marbles.

I mutter to myself as I turn to get the potato salad out of the fridge. I retrieve some vegetables from the fridge and make quick work cutting it up before placing it in bowls. Having finished dinner I place everything on the wooden four-person dining table in the living room next to the kitchen. I set the table and soon enough I take my seat with the two dogs next to me. The dogs are so big their heads reach over the dining table despite the fact that they’re sitting down. “I better find something to call you because I’m getting confused by my own thoughts.” I say to them as I cut up the ribs and place some on my plate, along with potato salad and some veggies.

A fresh vegetable salad sounded perfect. Opening the fridge, I scanned the shelves and pulled out everything I needed—crisp lettuce, ripe tomatoes, crunchy cucumbers, and a few other ingredients. After washing them thoroughly, I placed them on the cutting board and began chopping them with slow, deliberate movements. The steady sound of the knife hitting the board filled the quiet kitchen, creating a calm and familiar rhythm.