BANE OF HIS EXISTENCE

Chapter 25: I CAN'T HATE YOU!

Maya.

As we stepped into the dimly lit wine cellar, the air was cool and fragrant, mingling the scent of aged oak barrels with the earthy aroma of cork and time.

My dearest cousin, Andrew, leaned casually against one of the towering racks filled with bottles of all shapes and sizes, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly when asked if he knew what kind of wine his mom wanted for her birthday toast as if he were indifferent to the task at hand.

"How should I know?" he muttered under his breath, the words barely escaping his lips. I groaned and buried my face in my hands, feeling a familiar wave of exasperation wash over me. It's amazing how his presence seems to drain my intellect like a leaky faucet.

"So...let me get this straight," I said through gritted teeth, trying to muster control over my rising frustration. "Your mother wants us to find a vintage wine for her birthday toast, and you didn't even think to ask which one?" My voice dripped with disbelief as I asked through clenched teeth, trying hard to keep my frustration in check.

He just shrugged dismissively, raising both hands in a sheepish gesture, which only added to my irritation. I was already on the brink of losing my cool; another shrug from him would surely push me over the edge.

What is wrong with this guy? He couldn't even take a moment to ask what kind of wine his mother wanted for her toast. How he thinks is beyond me! I can't say I blame him: I mean it's Andrew we're talking about, no question about it. I doubt my efforts in reasoning with him would help; he's been consistently unhelpful in crucial moments.

"Mom wanted something vintage, so... maybe something vintage?" Andrew chimed in, suddenly popping up from the other end of the wine cellar with an overly cheerful expression, and I couldn't help but facepalm while Noah tried to stifle his laughter.

I often wonder how he moves through life with such a lack of awareness, especially since he's studying to become a doctor. (Sighs) Thank God for his good looks.

"Of course! Why didn't I think of that? That makes everything so much easier, good job Andrew!" I sassed back sarcastically, and he had the nerve to smirk at me with a thumbs up ignoring the fact that I was being sarcastic. Argh! I just wanna smack that stupid grin off his stupid handsome face so bad!

"I know it's not my place to say this," Noah voiced, catching our attention "but I genuinely believe Auntie would be thrilled with any wine you two decide to bring her," Noah remarked thoughtfully, his eyes shifting between mine and Andrew's.

His voice had a cautious tone, suggesting he was trying to find the right words. I instinctively turned to Andrew, seeking his approval, and to my surprise, he responded with a cheeky grin and a playful nod, as if he were fully on board with the idea. With a flair for drama, he broke into an exaggerated clap, mustering up the most comically none-British accent he could manage.

"You heard the man! Let's get to it, then! The wine isn't going to find itself!" His enthusiasm filled the room, causing a ripple of laughter and lightening the mood as we all considered the task ahead. See why I hate him?

"Thank you," I murmured to Noah, my voice barely above a whisper as I stood beside him in the dimly lit wine cellar. His warm smile illuminated the cool shadows around us, and he looked at me with a hint of curiosity, asking,

"For what?"

I gestured dramatically around the room, the rich scent of aged oak barrels and fine wine enveloping us. "You know..." I replied, letting my eyes wander over the neatly lined bottles glistening under the soft glow of overhead lights. "You didn't have to do this, especially when you could be out having fun at the party."