The smell hit Heaven like a drug the second the door opened.
Something meaty, slow-cooked, with spices that danced in the air like warm hands caressing her skin.
It wrapped around her, pulled her in like a siren's call, and this time—this time—there was no turning back.
She stood just outside the dining area, gripping the doorway as if it could anchor her to what little pride she had left.
Her heart pounded in her chest.
Her throat was dry. Her jaw was clenched so tightly she thought her teeth might crack.
People were laughing, eating, savoring each bite.
And Ross?
He was standing near the table, casually spooning something golden and fragrant onto a plate.
His back was to her, but she could feel it—he knew she was there.
Her vision tunneled.
Something inside her snapped.
She walked in with stiff, determined steps. The room quieted just slightly, sensing the tension.
She didn't care who was watching. She didn't care what anyone thought.
