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"Come and eat," Xander called.
I didn't move, just watched him as he set the table. "Come on, give it a taste," he coaxed.
Under the soft dining room light, he looked so much like Hayden. The way he moved, the way he stirred the soup earlier-everything about it was familiar.
You can fake a lot of things, but those tiny habits? The stuff you don't even realize you're doing? That's harder to fake.
So... Xander had to be Hayden, right?
That thought pulled me to my feet. I walked over and stopped behind him. Before I even knew what I was doing, I wrapped my arms around him, resting my face against his back.
His body tensed, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he said softly, "The food's ready."
"You're Hayden, aren't you?" I whispered.
Xander didn't say a word.
Imoved around to face him, gently grabbing his shoulders to turn him toward me. "There's no one else here, just us. You can tell me the truth. Please... tell me you're Hayden. Okay?"
"I'm not," he said, his voice cutting through the fragile hope I'd been holding onto.
"I'm Xander," he repeated.
I let go
of his hand. "I'm sorry," I murmured. "It's just... when you're wearing that apron and cooking like that, you're exactly like Hayden. Even the way you stir soup with your left hand, three times, is just like him.”
His jaw tightened, "That's just a coincidence."
"Yeah," I said with a bitter smile. “A coincidence. Such a perfect coincidence it keeps making me think you're him.
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I sank into the dining chair, stabbed a piece of roasted zucchini with my fork, and took a bite. The second it hit my tongue, my brow furrowed. Xander caught it immediately. "What's wrong? Is it bad? Too salty? Too bland?"
I didn't answer right away. The issue wasn't the flavor. The zucchini didn't taste like Hayden's cooking.
So, he wasn't Hayden.
This man kept dragging me to the edge of hope and doubt, over and over, until my emotions were rubbed raw. "Hm?" Xander prompted again, still waiting patiently.
I put down the fork and lied. "It's not good."
He didn't seem phased. "I'll make it again," he said, already halfway to the kitchen.
"Don't bother," I called after him.
"It's no trouble. I can whip up something else," he insisted, like he had to prove himself-like being dismissed wasn't an option.
+25 BOWS
"I know you can," I said. "But save it for another night. It's late."
That stopped him, and for some reason, my words made his eyes brighten.
"So, you're saying I'll get another chance to cook for you?"
For a moment, I just stared at him, wondering if he really wanted to stay in my life. Then I gave a small nod. "I'll have the cream soup."
If nothing else, the way he stirred it-three times, with his left hand-was exactly like Hayden. Maybe it would taste like him, too.
And it did. The soup was rich, and almost perfect. Close enough to Hayden's.NôvelDrama.Org content.
"You should eat too," I said, gesturing to the spread. "I can't finish all this on my own, and it'd be a waste."
He sat down across from me. We ate in silence.
Neither of us said a word until the meal was almost done. That's when the promise I'd made to Yuna popped back into my head.
"Would you be willing to play Hayden for me?" I asked, breaking the quiet.
Xander's hand halted mid-motion. His eyes flicked to mine, a mix of curiosity and hesitation written all over his face.
"Don't get the wrong idea," I said quickly. "It's not anything weird. I just need you to help me act out a scene." That seemed to relax him, and he went back to eating. “There'll be an extra charge for that.”
"Fine. But if you mess it up, I'm not paying, and there'll be a penalty."
Xander was clearly unbothered. "Fair enough. Just so we're clear, though-this scene doesn't involve anything romantic or intimate."
That did it—I lost it. Mid-sip of my cream soup, I burst out laughing, accidentally spraying some onto his shirt. Xander didn't even flinch. He just grabbed a napkin, calm as ever, and wiped himself off. "If you wanted me to stay the night," he said smoothly, "you could've just asked. No need for tricks like this."
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