Abby I swallow hard, my palm slick with nervous sweat as I reach for the door handle. “Ready?” Karl asks, his voice low. His eyes meet mine, and I can feel a sense of calm wash over me, although it’s not quite enough to allay the anxiety that’s blooming in my chest. “Ready.” The door swings
Abby The judges are sitting in front of me, spoons poised, and I can’t help but hold my breath. Every moment that they taste the soup without a word feels like an eternity. My palms are sweating, and it’s all I can do to not show them that I feel like I’m about to pass out. Vanessa is the first
His words give me pause. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I’m lost in his brown gaze. But then, I realize that he’s right; Logan just wants to throw me off my game. This isn’t the cook-off. There are no fellow contestants switching my spices, no real reason to let one judge’s comments make me doubt
Abby A warmth rushes over me as I carry the extra plates to the table where the judges are sitting. Karl follows close behind with a jug of water and two extra glasses. The scent of rosemary and thyme hangs in the air as I slide the plates down and pull up a chair. My heart’s doing somersaults,
Abby Six years ago. The stainless steel countertops gleamed under the harsh lighting of the culinary school kitchen as I plated my dish with trembling hands. The scent of my creation, a painstaking fusion of herbs and spices, wafted tantalizingly through the air—but I had no appetite. My gaze
When it was time to present, I stood by my dish, my heart hammering against my ribcage, as Professor Hawthorne approached. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever. I watched him closely, searching for any sign of approval. Then he spoke, so quietly I almost didn’t catch it. “A+.”
Abby The silence in the room is thick with tension as we wait for Logan’s verdict. Vanessa’s and Xavier’s praises still echo in the back of my mind, but it’s Logan’s opinion that really seems to hold the weight of the world. I can’t explain why, but it somehow feels as though Logan’s opinion hol
Abby Logan’s smirk unsettles me. It feels as though he somehow has the upper hand in a game I didn’t even know we were playing. “I don’t understand, Logan. What are you talking about?” My voice is steady, but inside, I feel anything but. Logan leans against the door frame, casual as ever. “Ken
Abby Intrigued, I let Karl take my hand and lead me discreetly away from the reception, weaving through the tables and out a back door into the gardens. A mischievous grin plays on his lips as we giggle like teenagers, ducking behind hedges and scurrying across the lush green lawns. “Where are w
As the music shifts to a slow ballad, I feel a familiar pair of strong arms circle my waist from behind. “There’s my beautiful wife,” Karl’s deep voice rumbles in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He spins me around to face him, our bodies swaying in time to the soft music. I gaze up at him
Abby The reception hall is cast in a warm, romantic glow, with twinkling lights and the warm flickering of candles on every table. Soft music plays as Karl and I make our entrance, hand-in-hand to raucous applause and cheers from our guests. I can’t stop smiling as we wave to our loved ones gather
Abby The afternoon sun streaming in through the tall windows of the chapel casts the stones in a warm golden light, giving everything a sort of ethereal energy. I stand in the hallway, my arm linked with Anton’s, as the wedding coordinator prepares everyone to walk down the aisle. “Are you ready
Abby As I sit in front of the vanity mirror with the hair and makeup artist circling around me, I meet my friends’ gazes in the reflection; Chloe, Leah, Daisy, and even Elsie are here as my bridesmaids, each of them looking more beautiful than the last. “The seamstress really did do a great job
Abby With a gasp of excitement, I pull the wedding gown out of its box and hold it up in the light. Everything is perfect; the way the beadwork catches the light, the silky texture, the shape. I can’t wait to try it on now that it’s been altered to fit my body. Quickly, I slip out of my clothe
Abby “Abby, why don’t you sit down?” Karl looks up at me from where he’s sitting on the sofa, a look of concern on his face. He pats the spot next to him, but I shake my head. “I can’t,” I say, continuing to pace back and forth in our living room. “I won’t sit down until I hear back about that
Abby As I chop, stir, melt, and saute, the others stand around me, watching intently. The pasta simmers on the stove, the air smelling like warm butter and spices. It’s enough to make anyone’s mouth water. But my focus isn’t on the rumbling in my belly, nor is it even on the lingering pain in my
As we continue searching, I keep thinking back on our last harrowing hunt for black truffles; those poachers nearly shot us. Even now, I can still remember the sound of the bullets whizzing past my head, and the thuds they made when they careened into trees. “We got really lucky,” I say. “If we ha