It Doesn’t Matter Anymore novel Chapter 4

Chapter 4

This realization had been like a barb lodged in Allison’s heart for a long time.

Just thinking about how she had spent years perfecting her cooking, only for him to use her food as a way to think about another woman, made her stomach churn.

But now, perhaps because her heart had gone completely numb, she found his request almost laughable.

She said nothing more, her face a mask of indifference as she turned

and walked into the kitchen.

Half an hour later, the pasta was finished, and the rich aroma of sautéed garlic and oil filled the room.

Allison’s face was ashen, her forehead slick with a cold sweat. Her body, still reeling from the fever, felt dangerously unsteady. She had to lean heavily against the marble countertop just to keep from collapsing.

Greyson followed the scent into the kitchen, a flicker of something complicated in his eyes as he stared at the plate of pasta.

Looking at Allison’s frail back, he felt a rare twinge of guilt.

“Thanks,” he said, his tone softening. “Once Sylvia is back on her feet, I’ll take some time off and take you to Sarasota. Haven’t you always wanted to see the Siesta Key Beach?”

Allison was about to tell him not to bother when Greyson’s phone rang -it was Sylvia’s custom ringtone.

A tearful voice came through the line. “Grey… my stomach hurts… I’m so hungry…”

The gentleness on Greyson’s face vanished instantly. He glanced at Allison and hurriedly reached for the thermal container to pack the pasta.

“I’ll be right there, don’t cry,” he cooed into the phone.

In his rush to transfer the pasta into the container, his elbow clipped the electric kettle that had just finished boiling.

With a crash, the kettle tipped, sending scalding water surging across the counter. It poured over the edge, splashing directly onto Allison’s feet and calves, which were exposed in her thin cotton slippers.

Allison let out a sharp gasp of pain, staggering back until she hit the refrigerator.

The heat was agonizing; her fair skin turned a raw, angry red, and blisters began to swell almost instantly.

Greyson jumped, instinctively setting down the container. “Are you okay?”

But even as the question left his lips, his eyes were already darting toward the door. It was clear his mind had already left the room. He was already at the hospital with Sylvia.

Allison looked down at her scalded foot. The pain was searing, white- hot, and bone-deep, yet the sheer absurdity of the situation overshadowed it all.

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