22. Madelyn
We make it to the main dining area, and I’m honestly shocked I didn’t tumble down the stairs with how badly my legs are still trembling.
The knock at the door had sent my heart straight into my throat.
And when Miles did nothing to stop feasting on me like a three course meal, I was certain it had stopped beating altogether.
He makes me feel weightless and untethered. I’ve never felt so free in my life. After everything my stalker has done to make me feel trapped, cornered, and afraid, I never imagined I’d find that freedom in another person's arms. But with Miles, I do.
The dining area is one of the most lavish rooms in the house.
The crystal chandelier hanging above the massive dining table is such a breathtaking centerpiece, I can’t help but admire the way it catches the light.
Every detail around us feels carefully chosen, expensive, and completely foreign to me.
I try not to let the extravagance overwhelm me, but I can’t stop myself from noticing how different Miles and I are.
Not in the ways that matter, of course. In every way that counts, we fit together perfectly.
Our souls were always meant to find each other.
But the lives we came from couldn’t be more different.
Miles pulls out my chair, and I feel a warmth spread through me as I thank him for the unexpected act of chivalry.
It's such a small gesture, but it means more than he probably realizes. I’ve never had anything like this—not that I don’t find myself worthy of being treated so respectfully, I just never thought I would be so lucky to find someone who would make me feel this cherished.
Julius pulls out the chair across from mine for Miles, who thanks him before taking his seat at the table.
A woman dressed in a crisp white button down shirt, black slacks, and a white apron wheels in a large cart carrying two steaming plates of pasta.
My eyes widen at the sight, the smell alone making my stomach rumble.
She sets the plates in front of us before placing two wine glasses on the table and filling them with a pale white wine. The entire thing feels so surreal, like I’m sitting in the middle of a world that was never meant for someone like me.
“Thank you so much, Esmeralda. I always loved when you made this.”
The woman smiles down at Miles, her expression softening as she reaches over and rubs his back affectionately.
“Anything for you, Mijo. I’m so happy to be back here with you again. Please, eat.”
She claps her hands together excitedly before nodding toward me. I smile back, touched by her warmth, and wait until she disappears back into the kitchen before picking up my wine glass and taking a small sip.
“Uh…Miles?” I ask, glancing down at the plate in front of me. “What exactly is this?”
I immediately feel embarrassed for asking. It sounds ridiculous, but I’ve never had anything like this before. The entire evening has felt like stepping into another world, and I have no idea what half of it even is.
“It’s lobster pasta with a champagne cream sauce,” he says with a smile. “It’s absolutely delicious. One of my favorite meals Esmeralda used to make for us.” He tilts his head slightly. “Have you had lobster before?”
I shake my head.
I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but I can’t help it. The only seafood I’ve ever eaten was frozen fish sticks I had to microwave myself.
“Just try it,” he says softly. “I promise you’ll love it.”
I pick up my fork and swirl the pasta around on it, making sure to catch a piece of lobster so I can get the full experience.
My eyes flick up to find Miles watching me, and I try not to let his attention make me nervous as I bring the fork to my mouth.
The second the flavor hits my tongue, my eyes widen.
Oh my god. He wasn’t exaggerating. It’s incredible.
“Holy shit, this is good!” I moan around a mouth full of pasta.
Any manners I possess have completely flown out of the window.
I’ve never tasted anything quite like this before.
It’s creamy, rich, and somehow has a sweetness I wasn’t expecting.
I’m not sure if it’s the lobster or the champagne cream sauce creating that perfect balance of flavors, but if I could eat this every day for the rest of my life, I absolutely would.
“I knew you would like it.” Miles says with a chuckle. “Just wait until you’ve tried her dessert. Esmeralda makes the best food. I’m just sad I missed out on it for so long.”
He starts eating his own pasta, and I find myself thinking about his words.
“How long has it been?” I ask quietly. “You know…since you’ve been here.”
He twirls some of the pasta with his fork, clearing his throat before answering.
“About three years,” he says quietly. “After my parents died, I stayed with my uncle for a while. I’d still come here every now and then, but being in this house without them…it hurt too much. Eventually, I just stopped coming.”
Listening to Miles talk about his past makes my heart ache for him. I know what it feels like to lose a parent you love, but to have a close relationship with both of your parents and lose them both so young? I can’t imagine the kind of pain that must leave behind.
In some ways, I guess I understand that feeling.
I may not have lost my father when I was young, but when he started drinking and became the cruel, unrecognizable version of himself, it felt like I lost him anyway.
The good parts of him, the father I remember before everything changed, it feels like he disappeared with my mom.
I shiver, thinking about the man who should have protected me and instead became the person I needed protection from.
I'll never understand how he could have been so cruel to me when I did nothing to deserve it.
I could understand why he was upset with my mother, but instead of hurting her, he should have just left.
He could have been a better man, but he chose the wrong path.
“I'm so sorry, Miles,” I whisper. “And I hate saying that because no amount of apologies can bring your parents back. I used to hate when people would say the same thing to me because it never felt like enough, but you deserved to keep them. You deserve to have them here with you.”
A stray tear slips from my lashes, and I quickly wipe it away.
I've cried in front of this man more times than I can count, and somehow, he’s never once made me feel ashamed for it.
I never knew his parents, but knowing Miles—the kind of heart that he has and the way he loves so deepy—it hurts knowing the people who raised him aren’t here to see the man he became.
Just as we finish our plates, Esmeralda walks in with her serving cart.
Sitting on top are two enormous slices of chocolate cake covered in what looks like chocolate ganache, each topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream that instantly makes my mouth water.
This has to be the biggest slice of cake I’ve ever had the privilege of eating, and I’m a sucker for anything chocolate.
Esmeralda places the plate in front of me, and I immediately beam up at her. “Thank you so much. The pasta was delicious, and this cake looks incredible.”
She grins from ear to ear and I can instantly tell cooking is her passion. “You're so welcome, Mijita. Please let me know if there's anything else I can do for you.”
Her Hispanic accent is thick and beautiful. I could listen to her talk all day.
She leaves us to eat our dessert and by the time we finish it, I don't think I'll be able to walk up the stairs. I honestly can’t remember a time I've ever been so full in my life.
“You alright?” Miles asks with a cheeky grin, almost looking satisfied to see me this way.
I try to sit up in my chair and groan, not wanting to do anything but lie in bed.
“I feel like I’m going to combust if I don’t lay down soon.”
Miles laughs and gets up, making his way over to my side of the table, helping me get to my feet.
How embarrassing.
“Well, let's get you to bed then, Princess.”
Once we make it back to our bedroom, I snuggle up to Miles on the comfortable king-size bed. The mattress is so comfortable, I would be fully convinced if he told me it was made of literal clouds. At this rate, I’m convinced I’m going to knock out in seconds.
My phone is plugged in to the charger on the nightstand and Miles glances over at it when it buzzes from an incoming message. Grabbing it, he reads the message and goes completely stiff.
“What's wrong? Who is it?” I ask, lifting to my elbows.
He looks over at me with concern and my entire body goes rigid. Internally, I’m a spiraling mess.
It’s him, I know it is. He wouldn’t be looking at me like that unless something was wrong.
My heart starts pounding as I sit up straighter, leaning over him and snatching the phone from his hands.
Unknown: Ready or not, here I come.
No, not again.
He can’t find us out here. The house is perfectly hidden, there’s no way.
My phone falls out of my hands as I bring them to my face, trying my best to hold in the emotions this asshole brings out of me.
“I don’t want to do this anymore!” I yell, tired and fed up with this stupid game he’s playing. I just want it to end.
My phone buzzes again and we both stare at it. It sits face down on the mattress, and every alarm in my brain is telling me not to pick it up. I don’t even want to look at the message.
Miles reaches down to grab the phone and I stop him.
“No! Miles, please,” I beg. “I can’t do this anymore. I just want it to stop. Please, just make it stop!”
I fist my hair, rocking back and forth on the bed. I’m going to end up going crazy until I know this is actually over.
Will it ever fucking end?
Miles pulls me onto his lap, holding me as my body shakes. I’m so scared to look at my phone. I don’t want to know what he has to say.
I bury my face in Miles’ chest, letting the tears flow. I’m shaking and the more I do, the tighter he holds me.