Ice & Prejudice

Chapter 101

Ria's POV:

As I watered the last of the plants in Layla's flat—my former flat, my mind wandered back to last night, the wedding, the fountain—everything. Every single moment with Nikolai played on a loop in my head, and I couldn't quite shake the memories. The feel of his lips on mine, the raw intensity in his eyes, the way his hands held me like I was both something to be cherished and claimed. What did it all mean now? I wasn't entirely sure, but for the first time, I wasn't worried.

I figured I'd turn in early for the night. Layla was gone for two weeks on her honeymoon with Jamal, so I was just taking care of her plants and flat while they were gone. A good book and some peace sounded like the perfect antidote to the whirlwind of emotions still swirling inside me. Just as I grabbed the blanket from the couch and settled into the corner, the shrill sound of the doorbell echoed through the flat.

I paused. No one ever visited this late.

Walking over to the intercom, I pressed the button. "Hello? Who is it?"

A familiar voice crackled back. "It's me. Nik."

My heart skipped a beat, my hand tightening around the edge of the counter. What was he doing here? Without a second thought, I buzzed him in. Moments later, there was a knock at the door.

When I opened it, there he was—holding two paper bags, with that lazy smile that always managed to make my pulse race. His eyes sparkled like he was in on some secret joke. "I brought you your favorite."

I couldn't help but smile back, my resolve softening immediately. Of course, he remembered.

"Come on in." I stepped aside, allowing him to enter. He walked in like he'd been here a thousand times before, comfortable and at ease. I could smell the food before I saw it, my stomach growling in appreciation.

He started unpacking pad Thai, sushi, and a ridiculous array of sides onto the coffee table. "You got all this?" I asked, raising a brow.

He shrugged, still grinning. "Figured I'd cover all bases. In case your taste has changed."

"Still the same," I said softly, watching him for a moment longer than necessary. It felt surreal—like time hadn't really passed. Like this was normal. Us. Together.

As I went to get plates, he called after me, "You still have Netflix?"

I nodded, moving to the TV and scrolling through the apps. "Yeah, I've got it. What do you want to watch?"

He took the remote from my hand gently, his fingers brushing against mine. My heart did a little somersault as I stepped back and watched him navigate through the Netflix library. I wasn't prepared for what he put on.

The Walking Dead. The last episode we had watched together three years ago. He remembered that too.

I sank down onto the couch next to him, the silence between us strangely comforting. It felt like we were right back where we left off, without any of the chaos that had broken us apart. No words were needed as we started watching. Just the soft flicker of the TV and the sound of us quietly eating, side by side.

We didn't speak much as the episode rolled on, but I could feel something in the air shifting, something unspoken hanging between us. We were both pretending to be engrossed in the show, but the tension was still there, a thread pulling tighter with each passing minute. The food was long gone, but we still sat there, neither of us making the first move to break the comfortable quiet.

Until I felt it—his gaze. He wasn't watching the TV anymore. He was watching me.

I turned my head to meet his eyes, and when I did, my breath caught in my throat. That look. The one that used to make my world tilt on its axis. He was staring at me with that same unfiltered intensity, the same love and longing that I remembered so well.