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I shrug. Not really, but I don’t want to not talk either. I unlock my phone and turn the screen toward him without reading any more of the awful messages. Now that I’m not staring like a deer in the headlights at the magazine cover, all the nasty messages have come back to the forefront of my mind.

He takes the phone from me and reads silently. As I watch, his expression blackens and he lets out a mumbled curse. “Fuck that. People are all assholes. Why don’t you delete the app?”

He hands the phone back, and I put it into my pocket. “I can’t. That’s my job.”

He braces his hands on the bench, thinking. “Clear your inbox, block the fuckers.”

I nod. “I need to. I just can’t deal with it right now.”

He holds out his hand again, gesturing for me to give him the phone. I do, and he bends his head over the screen, thumbs working and frown deepening.

When the water boils, he looks around for a moment, jerking his head toward the pantry. “Pasta’s in there. Add about half a bag.” Then he goes back to the phone. “Turn the other burner on.”

By the time I’ve added the pasta to the water and figured out how his range works, he hands me back the phone. “That’s most of it for now. I’ll take another look later if you like.”

“Thank you.” God this guy seems destined to be my hero every time I’m having a dark moment. He certainly seems to have a knack for being exactly what I need, exactly when I need it.

He tosses the onion and tomato in the pan, flicking it casually so the food is browned evenly on all sides. Then he adds the sausage. By now the savory smell is making my mouth water. How is it possible for something with only three ingredients to smell better than some of the hatted restaurants I’ve eaten in? But that’s the beauty of a truly good combination. Sometimes simple, fresh, and perfectly seasoned trumps complex and over fussy.

“This is what I make when I can’t be bothered cooking for myself,” he tells me, tossing the food in the pan again.

I smile to myself. What I make when I can’t be bothered cooking is an Uber Eats order, but I guess that’s why I’ll never be a chef.

“If you want my advice for nothing, I’d tell you you’re better off.”

Huh? Oh, Justin. I drag my mind away from the delicious smells Noah is producing and try to focus. I nod. “I mean, I know that intellectually. Clearly things haven’t been good for a while. It just hurts, you know?”

“Yeah. I know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I wish I didn’t, but I do.”

When I don’t say anything more, he sighs and switches off the stove. He turns and leans against the counter. “I don’t usually bother explaining. Everyone around here already knows, and new people don’t need my sob story. Only I think you do, don’t you, Zeston?”

“Maybe. If you don’t mind.” I would never have dared to ask, but I’m so curious.

“I was engaged once. When I was younger.” He takes the knife and stabs it violently into the chopping board so it stands straight up. “Younger and stupid. It didn’t end well.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “Why be sorry? It’s not your fault. She didn’t know I was a kraken. This was back before monsters came out. I should have told her. I guess a part of me always knew she wouldn’t stick around.” He yanks the knife from the board and rinses it in the sink. “When she first found out, she pretended everything was OK. We were still planning the wedding. I bought her dress and paid for everything. I didn’t find out until I was standing at that fucking altar waiting for her like an idiot. She left me waiting there a whole hour before she called.”

“Oh, Noah. That’s horrible.”

The smile on his face holds no mirth. “That’s not the best part. The best part is I found out later she and my best friend had been screwing for a month before that. Two months later, they were married.”

He turns and removes the pot from the heat, draining the steaming water before adding the cooked pasta to the pan with the sauce. “Fool me once, or so they say. I don’t plan on having that happen twice. So I steer clear now.”

“Of women?”

He plates up the food and garnishes with cheese and a sprinkle of herbs. “Of relationships. It’s not worth it. It never is.”

I’m quiet for a while. Mostly because I take a bite of pasta and basically die and go to heaven. It’s savory and a little sweet burst of flavor from the tomato and the hint of garlic from the sausage is just everything. I take about five more bites before I come up for air. I kinda wish I had my notebook!

Then I look around at Noah, who’s come to sit beside me at the counter and is digging into his own bowl. “But don’t you ever just want to um… let off steam?” I shift uncomfortably. I don’t want to make this weird after he’s been so nice to me, but I can’t help remembering the other night. The way he kissed and touched me was not the way a man kisses and touches if he’s celibate.

He chuckles. “You mean if I want a fuck? I never said I didn’t do that. I just don’t do feelings.”