Chapter 84: Care For A Meal?
Sedona's POV
Dante came back the next day.
I hadn't expected him to. He'd said what he'd come to say, had stood in the doorway and checked up on me like one would do a distance friend going through something bad, and I'd assumed that was the end of it—a visit, a moment of closure for both of us, the tying off of a thread that had been left loose for years.
Instead he appeared at ten in the morning with a paper bag that smelled like something had been cooked recently and with tender care, and knocked on the open door with his knuckle in the specific way of someone who wasn't sure of their welcome but had decided to find out.
"I made soup," he said. Not apologetically, not trying to fish for a comment of praise. Just a statement of fact. "I don't know what y
