Karl groaned, rubbing his temples. "Shut up, Chilie."
But the damage was done. The more he thought about it, the worse it became. Rebecca—who he had been entangled with in ways that were anything but maternal—now saw him as some fragile soul in need of comfort?
And she actually bought it.
He exhaled sharply, turning away from the mirror. He needed a distraction. Food. Sleep. Anything but thinking about this twisted mess.
Just as he reached for his fridge, a soft knock sounded at his door.
Karl froze.
For a brief moment, irrational panic surged through him. Rebecca? Had she realized something? Was she back to confront him?
But when he opened the door, it wasn't Rebecca.
It was Lucas.
And in his hands was a neatly packed food container.
Karl blinked. "Uh… hey?"
