Intricacies of the heart

re was a knock on the door. I knew it was Cherry before I opened it. I let her in, she observed me quietly. "Well...you survived, are you

complished." I waved the wand of

of greens, what sort of sorcer

get breakfast, I'm buying." I decid

he receipt, something twisted in my gut, it wasn't guilt, it was sadne

became a private chef, I catered to people who want something homemade, something that tasted like care, carefully curated ju

f knife against a board, onions softening in butter, the slow rhyt

n he completely swept me off my feet like a tidal wave. Cherry would sometimes call to ask if I wanted to hang, for a while I kept politely declining

dust catching in the light. My phone buzzed across the counter. Unknown number, but I knew. You can al

rd his voice, low,

ll I've been struggling to erase, the dimly lit room, the quiet and

e you'd pick

ould." I replied.

like we were shar

thinking

en over

came out sharpe

st dinner nothing more".

mell of garlic filling the air, grounding me in the life I was

ink that's

y n

no point, I'm not

I kept chopping. The knife, the herbs, the sound, steady and rhythmic. That night when I finally decided to have dinner with

stayed late. She'd taken a liking to me early on. Said I was hard working and industrious, also said she didn't know how she survived all those years without having me as her chef. Mrs. Levin was the kin

e had said.The kind of description that sounded more like a tax assessment than a person

es close enough that you could hear snippets of other people's lives between bites. He stood w

ing too wide. "Mrs.

I said, tak

fast. For the first fifteen minutes, he was charming in a predictable, almost professional way. He asked where I was from, wha

go through these chef phases. Bough

ess, his workouts, his ex-wife's "drama," his plan to buy property in Florida "befor

at the next table, a young woman feeding her boyfriend a forkful of pasta,

cook?" Matthew

aid. "It's

odding. "You'd save a lot of

e known each oth

"Hey, I'm ju

it was a personal attack. By the time the check arrived, I'd already decided I'd never see him again. But he still leaned

said, smiling

vening off me. It wasn't that he was awful. He was fine, polite, successful, maybe even kind in his

oes, poured myself a glass o

ect teeth. Defini

a single hea

ain nex

nother date. Not yet. Maybe not for a while. Because beneath the disappointment, there was still a par