Chapter 8 - The First Bite That Awakens Fourteen Years Of PainRonan slowly picked up the heavy silver spoon resting beside the porcelain bowl.
His hand trembled ever so slightly—a micro-movement that anyone else would have completely missed.
He dipped the spoon into the dark, rich broth, lifting it toward his lips with agonizing slowness.
Tessa watched him, suddenly wondering if she had misjudged the seasoning or added too much smoked pepper.
Ronan tasted the broth.
Time seemed to stop inside the private dining suite as the flavors hit his palate after fourteen years.
It was the exact recipe his mother, Elena Callahan, used to make every Sunday before the tragic fire.
The exact balance of garlic, caramelized onions, and crushed spice berries that no cookbook had ever recorded.
Ronan lowered the spoon back into the bowl, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths.
May you like
“Where did you get this recipe?” Ronan demanded, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic emotion.
“From Eda Boudreaux,” Tessa answered honestly. “She taught me everything I know about real food.”
Related Stories
