“So, what now?” he asks softly. “About the competition, I mean.”

I sigh, my mind racing back to the hours John and I spent in the kitchen, the relentless pursuit of a

perfection that now seems so utterly… pointless.

“I think I just have to accept that I can’t practice this recipe the right way,” I finally murmur, taking a step

back as I try to ignore the racing of my heart. “I guess not everything can be perfect.”

I fumble with my keys at my apartment door, finally managing to unlock it and step inside for the first time

since this morning.

The weight of the day presses down on me like a ton of bricks. ‘Exhausted’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.

And the frustration over the truffles—or the lack thereof—is the cherry on top.

Enter title…

mumble to myself, tossing my bag

unceremoniously onto the floor.

just falling asleep right here, still

heavy and I start to

welcoming arms

into the sweet embrace of sleep, a sharp

eyes

is lit up on the coffee table, a notification glowing. Rubbing my temples, I sit up

for it, my eyes narrowing as I

sender and subject catch

quickens as I open

But as I skim the content, my eyes widen

thinking that we

you think?”

replies. “The mafaldine

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255