When fate plays its hand (Miranda)

Chapter

0410

Silas glanced at Paul. “You haven’t been yourself lately. What’s going on?”

“You’ve got it wrong.” Paul replied, turning toward the drawing room. He carried a bag of clean clothes. and intended to store them in the cabinet inside that room.

As he pushed the door open, his gaze landed on the folding bed Miranda had slept on before. It hadn’t been moved since the last time she used it.

Paul’s thoughts drifted back to when he had walked in on her sleeping. His heart raced, and his breath caught in his throat. The memory still held him captive, as if he was trapped in a dream.

Snapping back to reality, he was overwhelmed by frustration and shame. He struggled to accept that version of himself–the one losing control.

“Paul,” Silas called from outside. “I ordered some late–night snacks. Do you want any?”

“I’ll pass. Enjoy it yourself.”

“I’ve got buffalo chicken bites and pan–fried pork. Are you sure you don’t want to try some?” Silas pressed.

“No, thanks.”

“Speaking of buffalo chicken bites, I still think Miranda makes the best ones. By the way, has she started classes? I haven’t seen her in the lab for ages. Next time you see her, tell her to drop by. We all miss her.” Silas added.

Paul stepped out of the drawing room, and his expression returned to normal. “If you want to say something to her, say it yourself.” He tried to shake her from his mind, but it felt like she lingered in every

corner.

mid–bite, surprised. “Come on… You two live right across the hall. Is it really that hard to pass along

“It is for me.”

was momentarily speechless before saying, “Paul I

already walked over to the lab table

wonder if you’re going through a breakup… You’ve had that serious look every day. It’s like you’re about

him, focusing

tongue twice.

blue streaked by shades of orange. A gentle breeze swept through as the

in to find Sam already seated. She had barely settled in when the dishes were served, and each was perfectly

Chapter 0410

+25 BONUS

to keep you

glanced at his watch. “You’re not

to meet at 6:30 pm, but she had arrived

did you get here?”

“6:00 pm.”

“That early?” she said.

Diners get to choose how they want their dishes prepared, and there’s no set

time to prepare. The wait would have been much longer if

stir–fried dishes and stew before her.

“I’m sorry. It was supposed to be my treat, and I should have made the

done any research beforehand. She thought it would be just a regular place where she could