NATHAN
By the time we finish the sauce, I'm ready to lose my mind.
Not because the work is hard—though it is, and my arms are sore from stirring that massive pot for what felt like hours. But because Sophie won't stop being so damn *professional* about everything.
She's not angry. She's not cold. She's not even passive-aggressive.
She's just... efficient. Polite. Businesslike.
"Can you grab the oregano from the top shelf?"
"We need to let this simmer for twenty minutes."
"Make sure you stir it every few minutes so it doesn't stick to the bottom."
Every instruction is clear and calm, like she's training a new employee at some corporate job. Like I'm just another volunteer she has to work with, not the guy who's made her life hell for the past four years.
And somehow, that makes it
