Aria's POV - The Next Morning
"I know I don't have to." I dried my hands, positioning myself at the counter. "But watching you butcher the recipes is painful."
I picked up a samosa wrapper, filled it with the meat mixture, and began folding with practiced ease. Triangle, fold, triangle, fold. "See?" I held it up. "Not a crumpled napkin."
"Show-off," Damien muttered, but his eyes were warm.
"Please." I started another one. "This is basic. You're just incompetent."
"Ouch." But he was smiling.
"Mama's good at everything!" Noah declared.
"Not everything," I said quietly, finishing the second samosa. "Just the things I had to learn."
Damien moved closer, reaching for a wrapper. Our hands brushed, and I jerked back like I'd been burned.
"Don't," I said sharply.
"I was just"
"I know what you were doing." My eyes flashed. "Keep your hands to yourself."
Noah looked up, confused. "Why are you mad at Daddy?"
"I'm not mad." But my voice was tight.
