Zoya’s P.O.V
I woke up the next morning to find Sam had made me breakfast, the smell of food wafting through my small house to titillate my senses.
I got out of bed and headed straight to the kitchen, to find Sam hovering over the pot, looking extremely focused as he stirred the soup he was cooking over low heat. I was surprised and grateful that he had taken the time to make breakfast for me, a kind and unprompted gesture that I hadn't really expected from him.
"Good morning," I spoke softly, trying not to startle him.
"Morning," Sam replied, setting the soup pot on the table. "I made us some soup.”
“Smells delicious.” I grinned. “I didn’t know you’re such a good cook.”
“That…I cannot guarantee unless you’ve tried it.” He smiled back, an almost fond expression on his face. “It’s something that my mom used to make when we were kids. I don’t know if I was able to get it right, but I hope you like it."
“Well, now I have to try!” Reaching behind the counter, I took out a couple of bowls from the cupboard and placed it on the counter next to him.
Sam helped dish up the soup and I tried it immediately, a sigh leaving my lips at the explosion of flavors in my mouth. It was warm and hearty and something perfect on a rainy day or when you’re feeling down.
“It’s perfect.” I told him, looking up at his larger form next to me.
Sam’s smile lit up his whole face and before I knew it, he had reached forwards with his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
The gesture surprised me, but I stayed still, letting him move the hair away from my face before he went back to sipping on his own soup.
Memories of the past flooded back into my mind when I remembered how Ravi used to tuck my hair for me while I was cooking. He had been so sweet then, so…different.
Shaking my head to get rid of thought about Ravi, I took another sip of the soup. A warm feeling settled itself in my stomach. I didn't know if I was just being dramatic, or if his soup truly tasted as good as I thought it did now, but I smiled up at him anyway. "If only I could have food like this every day." I sighed. “If only I could hire you as my personal chef…”
Sam chuckled, his voice low and throaty but still deep and hearty, carrying a note of warmth and comfort that put me at ease. "You don’t need to hire me. I’ll gladly do it for you."
“Oh! I guess it’s my lucky day!” I muttered, making him laugh, one that started low in his throat, building up gradually until it reaches a crescendo that fills the air with a sense of happiness and joy. When he laughed, his features softened and his eyes lit up with mirth, as if he's genuinely amused by whatever he's reacting to, and that made me feel a sense of accomplishment, like I did that. His mouth curved upwards, revealing a set of perfect white teeth, and his cheeks dimpled charmingly.
It made me feel something in my stomach — if butterflies could get rabies, then I had rabid butterflies in my stomach, persistent and eager for their existence to be acknowledged.
Sam looked at me and then took a deep breath, as if he was trying to take in my scent. It was a little strange, but I tried not to think too much of it as I once again remembered my ex used to do that too sometimes.
“Joke’s aside, you know, I really appreciate you letting me stay here.” He pressed his lips together, and I could tell that he was not used to speeches of gratitude like this. It was clear that he hated being in someone's debt — whether it was his pride or morals that didn't want him to be chained to someone or something, I didn't know. He continued, “You didn't have to do that, but you did. So I want to do something for you in return."
I looked at him, a little taken aback by his profession. "What do you mean?" Although what I really wanted to say was, 'I do a lot of things that I shouldn't do. This isn't my first rodeo,' while thinking of my past — my ex, my friends, my cousin.
"I mean, I can fix up the places that need fixing around here, and maybe do some cooking for you too," Sam offered. He managed a small, sheepish smile, and I reveled in the fact that I made such a boyish expression arise from a man as gruff and large as him. "You know, to make up for the food, the clothes, and shelter you've given me."
I smiled, feeling grateful for his kindness. "That's really sweet of you, Sam. But you don't have to do all that."
"I want to," he said firmly, putting the spoon down on the bowl so he could converse with me properly. "It's the least I can do for you."
I couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth in my heart at his words, and perhaps my chest fluttered a bit, and the rabid butterflies in my stomach got wilder. Maybe things weren't so bad after all.
"Then I'll let you have your way around the house,” I told him with a laugh, and he beamed at me. "On one condition. Just make sure I come home to it in one piece.”
“Yes ma'am,” he said, grinning and giving me a mock salute. “That won't be a problem.”
And even though I shouldn’t be saying this, I still found myself joking about it regardless. “I think you need to thank my ex for your clothing, however.” I gave a nervous laugh. “I mistakenly brought some of his stuff with me when I moved.”
“Your ex?” Sam’s brows creased with worry. “What happened? If…you don’t mind telling me…”
“It’s not like it’s a big secret anyway,” I sighed, thinking about my friends and colleagues from New York City Hospital. “He cheated on me with my cousin; broke off the engagement when I caught them in the act.”
Even though I was already past that, remembering that day still made my heart clench painfully. “And you know what’s worse? I saw them yesterday, at the hospital. They were together and they looked happy…like they didn’t even regret what they did to me.”
Then, suddenly, Sam asked me a question that caught me off guard. "Do you still have the engagement ring?"
I hesitated before answering, wondering where he was going with this. "Yeah, I do,” I said, confused. “Why?”
"Well, if you want to get back at your ex, the first thing you should do is sell that ring and keep the money," Sam said.
I was taken aback by his suggestion. "Really? You think I should?"
"Absolutely," he replied, nodding. "It's just a piece of metal and a stone. It's not worth holding onto if it's causing you pain. Besides, it’ll be the perfect payback."
I thought about his words for a moment, and realized that he was right. The ring was just a symbol of a broken relationship, and it was time for me to let it go and move forward.
And what better way to move forward than to sell that ring and keep the money? Sam was truly a genius!
"Okay," I said, making up my mind. "I'll do it. I’ll sell that shit and I’ll show him that he is worthless in my life now."
Sam smiled at me, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.