Echoes of Unrequited Love

Chapter 214

Nobody knows the minimalist chic vibe better than me.

If I hadn’t double–checked the apartment number before walking in, I would’ve thought ! » stepped into a time machine and ended up back in that “home” from two years ago,

The one I shared with Hogan.

Gray curtains, a beige love–seat, and the black–and–white checkered carpet–not only was the color scheme identical, but the layout was a carbon copy too.

And yet, I clearly remembered that the landlord said all our “home” stuff had been dumped at the landfill.

So is this just a freaky coincidence?

“Xaviera, why the freeze frame at the door?” Cecilia, noticing my trance, grabbed a pair of shoe covers from the hall cabinet and tossed them my way, adding, “Surprised, huh? When Hogan moved in, he got everything sorted out, from big–ticket appliances to the nitty–gritty essentials. The dude’s got an eye for detail.”

So, all of this was Hogan’s handiwork?

I awkwardly slipped on the shoe covers without picking up on Cecilia’s cue and shot back, “Where’s the grub?”

Pointing towards the kitchen, she said, “All the ingredients are there. I barely touch the

bee–lined for the kitchen. But when I caught

the same niche brands

the clay pot I use for my soups.

Another coincidence?

the kitchen’s

out of it, shook my head, and said, “Prep’s gonna take about twenty minutes. You can

“I’m beat. I’ll

by me. I’m more at

the familiar knives and

of distraction, I nicked my

1/2

11:16

sprang from the cut, and the sting jolted me back to my senses.

and instructed, “When the timer dings, the soup’s done. It’s best served piping hot, all

do this: Hogan and I will treat you sometime soon, and you better hot