His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 84

Chapter 84

I padded down the hall, footsteps soft against polished floors. My hand hovered over the doorknob for a second.

Then I opened it. And everything stopped.

Liam was standing. Cassie Scott was standing too.

Their lips were locked.

It didn’t matter who kissed who first. What mattered was that it was happening. And I was standing there, watching it unfold like a slow–motion car crash.

For a second, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. My chest burned. My limbs trembled.

And then his eyes found mine, and he panicked.

“Emily,” he breathed, already stepping back. He shoved Cassie away,

“It’s not what you think.

”

I didn’t speak. My vision blurred.

He moved toward me. “Emily, I swear to God…”

I took a step back.

Then another.

And then I turned.

“1

hard.

I didn’t run. I walked. Slow. Dignified. Like my heart wasn’t collapsing in my chest. Like I hadn’t just been sucker–punched by someone I loved.

And I did love him.

Funny, how it hits hardest when it’s too late to matter.

How I only realized the depth of it the moment he twisted the knife.

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Chapter 84

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I loved him more than I admitted, even to myself.

And maybe that’s what makes it worse.

Because the deeper the love, the sharper the betrayal.

He didn’t just hurt me.

He wrecked me.

And the worst part?

I’d still take one more breath just to hear him say my name the way he used to.

I didn’t drive home. I couldn’t.

Not after what I saw. Not after the way Liam looked at me. The panic in his eyes, the guilt etched in his features, as if realizing too late that I’d just watched him kiss another woman. Or maybe she kissed him. It didn’t matter.

The damage was done.

I couldn’t go home. Not in this state. Not with my mother waiting there, cheerful and unaware, eager to hear all about the boy who had made her daughter smile again.

How was I supposed to tell her that smile had been crushed under the weight of someone else’s lips?

So I drove.

Nowhere specific. Just let the city fall behind me. I drove passed the palm–lined streets, the overpriced juice bars, the empty beaches glowing under dying sunlight. One hand gripping the wheel and the other clutching the last pieces of myself.

Eventually, I pulled into a forgotten corner of the city, a canyon overlook littered with cracked pavement and cigarette butts. I parked the car and sat there, watching dusk bleed into night.

My phone buzzed. Once. Twice. I ignored it. I didn’t want to read his excuses, or worse, his silence.

By the time I turned back onto the road, Los Angeles had quieted. Even the traffic seemed too tired to keep pretending.

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Chapter 84

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I switched on the radio. Anything to fill the silence. A weather update. An ad. A terrible pop

song.

“Die for You” by The Weeknd crackled through the speakers, and I instantly regretted that decision.

That song. Liam and I had listened to that song together, once, in his car.

The tears came before I could stop them.

I didn’t think I had any left in me. Apparently, I did.

My fingers trembled on the steering wheel. My vision blurred. The lyrics sliced through me like betrayal in four–four time.

“Even though we’re going through it, and it makes you feel alone, just know that I would die for you…”

I didn’t see the headlights. The car. Didn’t see the curve too late to brake.

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