Page 71 of Unraveling with You

My heart hammers wildly as I stare at my bleary-eyed boyfriend in only his T-shirt and boxers, spouting what would’ve been life-saving words for a younger Lilibeth.

What if he’s right? I’ve already climbed the industry years longer than Gabby, Paolo, and Ben, which is why I’m the sous chef beneath Giuliano.

Yet he treats me like I’m incapable.

But is that really on him, or is it still my own doing? Maybe I’m doing something wrong?

“Hey.” Remington lifts my chin. “No matter what, I see it: you’re a fucking rockstar at what you do. Take care of your heart for me while you’re at work, okay?”

Biting my lip, I nod. “Thank you, love. T-that means a lot.”

Standing on my toes to meet his lips, I cup his cheeks to sink into a lingering kiss. His warm hand swoops behind my back, tucking me closer with a quick, soothing squeeze. When he releases me, I see it: the warm, tender confidence in Remington’s eyes when he looks at me.

I’m capable to him.

Why am I not capable in my own eyes?

Is it Dad’s abuse clinging to me, or is it my own, based on how he taught me to see myself? Do I also believe I’m everyone’s punching bag?

It terrifies me. I grasp Remington’s hand. “Rem, I don’t want to just be head chef. I’ve always wanted to open my own restaurant. I want to nourish people with my own food.”

Blinking rapidly, Remington gapes. Then he bursts into the most vibrant, wholehearted grin.

With just that one look, I feel like my dreams have already come true - that someone else can see it, so it’s already in the works. It’s possible. I beam from ear to ear, letting out a joyous giggle.

Remington softens into a touched, gentle smile. “You’ve never shared that with me before. It makes me so fucking excited for you, L.L.B., you have no idea. I can’t wait to see you achieve it.”

His words boost my soul so electrically that I feel like running a mile. Except I can’t; I have to hurry before I miss the bus to work.

I’ve never felt so earnestly seen by anyone except Remington. After 15 brutal years of grinding my way up the restaurant industry from fast food to luxury, he’s one of the few people who have acknowledged my efforts. But he meant every word. His bright, beaming black eyes stick in my mind the whole bus ride to work, forcing me to hide my smile in my scarf.

So the second I see Ben muttering snickering insults into Paolo’s ear when I clock into work, it’s a stark, horrifying difference from how Remington and I treat each other. Fresh alarm bells ring in my head that stopped sounding three years ago - when Giuliano convinced me this was “just how it was” in professional kitchens.

My jaw tenses with Paolo’s shoulders. He’s not defending himself, either.

And I’ve had enough.

Marching up to Ben, I harden my resolve. “Ben, what are you doing?”

Ben whips around, searching for the voice questioning him. When he realizes that voice belongs to me, his wide eyes soften into laughter.

“Dude, Lily, chill out. You have no sense of humor—”

“Enough,” I say.

Gabby stops chopping celery to look at me with wide eyes, sending a jolt through my chest. Am I doing the wrong thing? Should I not have spoken up for once?

But as Ben chuckles, opening his mouth to say something else, Remington’s words click into place; Ben isn’t the only one treating me poorly. Paolo stands up for me occasionally, but only when someone drags him into it. Gabby pretends nothing bad happens at all, just like Mom. Servers and bussers follow Giuliano’s lead, using sharp, angry words the entire shift, making it ten times more exhausting to hand orders to them and have to listen to them fight while I’m hoping to cook customers warm, loving meals.

And of course they all act like this. Our head chef treats me the same way in front of everyone, and I’m supposed to be his right hand.

Gripping my fresh apron, my voice shakes as I interrupt Ben. “I said, enough. What do you think you’re accomplishing right now?”

Ben’s jaw hardens. “What the hell is your problem today?”

Giuliano clocks in, still tying his apron as he stomps through the doorway. “Why the fuck is no one cooking?”

The dragon horde has gathered in one place. Sucking in a fiery breath, I picture banishing them from my inner kingdom, loosening my shoulders.

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