Chapter 5: Kitchen Memories

I headed to the kitchen, rolling up my sleeves. The last time I’d made healthy meals like this, I was just a kid.

Back then, Sam Hill—before he became Rachel’s husband—lived in the cramped apartment behind our house. He was a scrawny orphan, scraping by on ramen and working double shifts to put himself through college.

One afternoon, I found him passed out on my back porch. I dragged him inside, used my dad’s old medical books, and nursed him back to health, making sure he had something nutritious to eat every day—grilled cheese sandwiches, mac and cheese, even chicken noodle soup when he was sick. The kind of comfort food that made you feel like you belonged.

No one else ever knew about those meals. Well, except for Sam. I guess he told Rachel, probably just to get rid of me for good.

I carried a tray of steaming food to the master bedroom.

Alex was packing up his things, a duffel bag open on the bed.

“Captain, what are you doing? I thought I’d move to the guest room.”

He didn’t look up. “I have fewer things, so I should move instead.”

“Why not eat first? You can pack later.”

I set the tray down gently, the scent of chicken soup filling the room. He finally sat, glanced at the meal, and took a bite. “From now on, let Emily handle the food.”

“It’s the same if I do it.”

“It’s not,” he said flatly. “Let Emily deliver it.”

He polished off the soup, barked a few instructions to the staff, and swept past me, not meeting my eyes.

Right then, I knew it for sure: Captain Mason didn’t want to see me.