Page 10 of The Stuffing Situation
“Correct,” Maya muttered, scrolling through the notes app on her phone. “And if we forget the whipped cream, my cousin will go full feral.”
Felix nodded with superb efficiency. “Threat level: moderate.”
She snorted before she could stop herself. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m still processing the fact that you exist.”
He smiled, small but devastating, and for one ridiculous moment, she forgot why she was anxious at all. Then they rounded the corner, and Maya promptly slammed into a cart.
Of course. Of course, it had to be them. It had to be her ex, Caleb, and his fiancée. Because apparently, this was her personal version ofGroundhog Day. Or at least what you get for living in a small town.
The impact jolted through her ribs, the metal cart banged against her shin, and by the time she looked up, her stomach had already dropped.
He blinked in carefully rehearsed surprise, the kind of surprise people practice in bathroom mirrors before high school reunions. “Oh! Maya.” Caleb let out.
The fiancée lit up. “Twice in one week!”
Maya’s brain went static. Her vocal cords filed for divorce. Every humiliating breakup memory flashed like a highlight reel on loop. Caleb’s sighs, the slow withdrawal of affection, the way he’d once saidYou’re too muchas if that were a flaw she could fix, and the worst part was that Caleb was the last guy she was with, that she really could have seen herself marrying. A stupid young love, which ended after college, made her question if she could ever trust someone who would want the real her. Caleb had gotten it into her mind that no one would ever be able to handle all of her.
Felix stepped forward, one hand resting lightly on the small of her back, warm, solid, and most of allpresent.His body radiated steadiness, like a firewall between her and every past version of herself that had ever wilted in front of this man.
“Oh,” the fiancée said, eyes widening. “You must be?”
“Felix,” he said, voice like silk pulled over something sharp.
Her ex straightened ever so slightly. That quiet little peacock flex Maya knew all too well, the subtle bounce-to-look-taller maneuver, the nostril flare of a man sensing he’d been out-alpha’d.
The fiancée lingered just a beat too long on Felix’s forearm. Maya couldn’t even blame her; she’d also be staring at Felix’s forearms.
“So how did you two meet?” she asked a little too sweetly.
Maya panicked. “It’s a, uh, long story.”
“A good one,” Felix added, smooth as polished marble. “Fate, you could say.”
You’re not helping.
You’re not not helping, either.
The fiancée offered Felix a not-entirely-innocent touch on the arm. “You’re lucky,” she said. “He’s handsome.”
Maya’s stomach pulled taut. Every muscle in her jaw locked; she could taste adrenaline like copper.
Felix didn’t flinch. But his voice changed—cooler now, more precise. Ice hiding something molten.
“You should step back.”
The fiancée blinked. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t break eye contact. “If I had Maya, and lost her? I wouldn’t look at anyone else for the rest of my life. Because there’s no one better, and I’d know I didn’t deserve her.”
The silence that followed could’ve sliced through the canned yams.
Her ex’s mouth opened. Closed. He muttered something about needing ice and maneuvered the cart away, as if it might protect his ego.
Maya stood frozen, heart thundering against her ribs, pulse roaring in her ears. The fluorescent lights seemed to buzz louder, the tiled floor too bright, too solid for what had just happened. Felix remained still, unruffled, like he hadn’t just detonated a poetic landmine in Aisle 7.
She caught a glimpse of their reflection in the freezer door—his height, her flushed face, the space between them charged with something that didn’t belong in public.
* * *