You have people come into your life shockingly and surprisingly. You have losses that you never thought you’d experience. You have rejection and you have learn how to deal with that and how to get up the next day and go on with it.
I wash my hands and hunt for the wok, the oil, and the other ingredients I need, repeatedly brushing against him - my gip, my arm, my back, my hands. Small, seemingly innocent touched. He stills each time I do.
“I know whay you’re doing, Anastasia,” he murmurs darkly, still preparing the first pepper.
“I think it’s called cooking,” I say, fluttering my eyelashes.