Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter #2) - Melanie Martins Page 0,89
of any will to get up. “Janine, do you mind showing them to the library, please?”
“They are already in there.”
“Alright, tell them I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Miss, did you eat something?” But before I can answer, she asks, “Would you like some avocado toast?”
“No, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“Miss, you promised us you will eat.”
Drawing in a breath, I say, “Well, it’s not that easy.” The truth is, the will to eat is never there. How am I supposed to eat when I never feel the need to? I get up, and, as I’m about to take a step, I feel a cold shiver running through my entire body, and another terrible headache seems to take over me. I wince at the pain and sit back down on the bed, waiting to feel better.
“Are you alright?” Janine asks, her voice laced with concern. “You’re gonna eat.” Now her voice has turned so authoritative that I barely recognize her. “You need to eat. Otherwise, you’re gonna get sick. And I’m not letting it happen.” And she leaves the bedroom just as fast. I grab the glass of water sitting on the nightstand and drink it down all at once. Then I wonder if Alex would come back to persuade me to eat if my health was in jeopardy. Maybe if I got really sick and my weight kept dropping, he would come back. But at that stage, Dad would most likely send me to a clinic to get transfusions. Maybe if Alex knew I was in the hospital, he would come back. My body is tired, like it ran a marathon before I even got out of bed, but I make the conscious effort to stand up and head to the bathroom despite all the pain. Politeness and good manners toward my guests are a good motivation. After a quick, warm shower, I brush my teeth, and, as I face the mirror, I drop the towel and observe myself attentively. My brows crease as I take in the view, then I go back to the bedroom to get dressed quickly. I decide to wear a push-up bra, a large sweater, and a pair of jeans to hide my scrawny physique. Then I head to the library, where I find my group watching a video on David’s phone.
“Hey, sorry for the delay,” I say as I walk in.
“Hey.” Matthew is the first to greet me, and while everyone is still watching the video, he leaves the group and comes to meet me. “How are you doing?” he asks in a low voice.
“Um, I’m fine.” I give him my biggest smile in an attempt to disguise my sickness.
As I’m about to walk toward the study table, Matthew asks, “Can I invite you to lunch?”
I raise my eyebrow, surprised by his invitation. It’s the second time he’s asked me out. And I feel like declining again.
“Matthew, um…” That’s all I manage to say. I seriously don’t feel like eating out. Actually, I don’t feel like eating at all.
“There is a very nice Japanese restaurant nearby. They have vegan sushi,” he says. “It’s, like, super hard to get a reservation, but I managed to get a table for two.”
“Oh…” Now he’s left me speechless. “Um, why don’t you go with Sarah? I’m sure she’d love it.”
“Sarah hates sushi. And she is not my vegan bestie.” His cheeky tone makes me crack a smile.
“Well, then… um, alright.”
Matthew glows with a full-tooth grin. “I’m sure you’re gonna love it.” His hand goes to my arm, and he rubs it excitedly. “Thank you.”
I can’t deny it—Matthew knows what he’s talking about. As soon as we step into Franchia Vegan Café—a small, discreet, and unpretentious restaurant situated on Park Avenue, I immediately fall in love with the place. It’s impossible not to with its minimalist and zen vibe. Upon our arrival, we are welcomed by a friendly waiter who escorts us to a quiet table in the back and gives us menus.
As we sit, Matthew asks, “So, what do you think?”
“It’s amazing,” I reply just as fast. “Thank you for insisting I come.”
“I’ve wanted to try this place for quite some time,” he confesses. “But I wanted to try it out with you.”
His voice is warm, and I give him a small smile, a bit troubled by his openness. Or maybe I have been the one who hasn’t been paying enough attention to my friends, especially to him. After all, he has always been so caring with me. It