Then she walked over and, without asking, snatched the flowers from my hands. “Are these for me and Micah? That’s so thoughtful of you. Thanks for the well wishes.”
I tried to take the bouquet back, but her son yanked it away. He threw it to the ground, stomped on it hard and spat, “We don’t want your stupid flowers. Stop trying to suck up to my mom!”
I was so furious my head started to throb. “You better pay for that bouquet!”
Micah snapped, clearly annoyed. “He’s just a kid. Gosh. How can you stoop to his level?”
Then he did the unthinkable—he handed me an apron. “Just go cook dinner. Don’t provoke him.”
I let out a disbelieving laugh. “I’m sorry, am I your servant, now? How dare you telling me to cook?”
“Could you just stop being difficult?” Micah scowled. “Ever since we left the City Hall, you’ve been nothing but dramatic.”
He kept going, voice sharp. “Everything was fine until you showed up and threw it all into chaos. I’m trying to help you here. Just cook something—as a gesture for Lana and her kid.”
I locked eyes with him. My voice was low and steady. “You really think I’m the one who ruined everything—that I should apologize?”
His gaze wavered.