𝟏𝟓. || 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.

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Sara's POV:

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Sara's POV:

"Don’t come home yet. Give me 45 minutes."

I frown and pause by the front door as I stare at the text message Arush sent me just now. He knew that I went to see Dad after work and that I’d be home late.

Is he trying to ensure I don’t walk in on something I shouldn’t see? Something about this message doesn’t sit well with me.

My heart aches as I follow the sound of Arush’s voice, part of me wondering if it’d be best to stay away. I’m not someone who avoids tough situations, yet somehow, I want to right now.

“Fuck,” I hear him mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where did it go wrong?”

I walk into the kitchen to find him standing all by himself, surrounded by the biggest mess I’ve ever seen. Relief rushes through me as I take a shaky breath. What was I thinking?

“Arush?”

He whirls around, revealing a YouTube video playing on his tablet behind him.

“Fuck, Sara,” he says, surprised. “Shit. I thought I told you not to come home yet. Why…”

He groans and turns back around, trying to lock his tablet. I bite back a smile as I take in the chaotic scene—the flour-covered countertops, scattered ingredients, and the sink overflowing with dishes.

“Hey Arush, what is going on?”

“Fucking hell,” he groans as he buries his face in his hands. I’ve never seen him this flustered before, and it’s oddly heartwarming.

I walk up to him, glancing at the remnants of his cooking attempt. “What is it you’re trying to make?” I ask, genuinely confused.

He looks as if he’s about to burst into tears. “I told you I’d earn your forgiveness, but I wasn’t sure where to start. I wanted to do something special for you, so I searched through all of your favorite YouTube food channels to find a recipe.”

He glances at the mess, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment. “It looked a lot easier than it was.”

A soft chuckle escapes my lips, and I reach for him, cupping his face. “You did this for me?”

He shakes his head, his gaze filled with regret. “No, baby. I didn’t do anything but make a fucking mess. I can’t even get this right. When it comes to you, all I do is fuck up, over and over again, no matter how hard I try.”

My heart skips a beat as my eyes roam over his face.

“You didn’t fuck up,” I whisper, moving closer to him. My hand slides around the back of his neck, and I rise to my tiptoes.

He looks at me with such vulnerability and hope that I can’t help but smile.

My gaze drops to his lips, and he tilts his head slightly, as though he wants a kiss but won’t demand one.

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 || 18+ ✔Where stories live. Discover now