Starla had already seated herself comfortably.
“Isn’t it fine to come visit? I also wanted to try Sammy’s cooking. It’s been ages since I’ve had it and I’ve really missed it.”
As she spoke, her gaze was fixed entirely on Samuel.
“Craving it, huh? I’ve got some pig’s trotters simmering in the kitchen too. You’ll have to eat a couple extra pieces later,” Samuel said, his focus entirely on Starla as he handed her a hot towel to wipe her hands.
“Go ahead, wipe your hands and dig in!” he added with a carefree smile, before turning back to the kitchen to bring out the trotters—completely ignoring my presence as if I were invisible.
It wasn’t until Samuel sat down across from Starla that he seemed to realize what had happened. He awkwardly got up and glanced at me.
“Cass, sit down and eat. Try the soup I made and let me know if it tastes good,” he said, dishing out a bowl of chicken soup and placing it in front of me.
Without thinking, I pushed the bowl away.
“Samuel, have you forgotten? I don’t drink chicken soup.”
The force of my push sent the hot soup splashing onto Samuel’s hand and he yelped in pain, stumbling back a step.
“Cassey, are you trying to burn me?”