It Starts with Us by Colleen Hoover

Chapter Thirty-Three
Atlas
I called Sutton after I dropped Josh off at my house and asked her to meet me
at Bib’s. I got here an hour before we agreed to meet. I’ve never cooked for
her, so I’m hoping my making her a meal does something to her. Pleases her,
puts her in a decent mood. Anything to make her less combative.
My phone pings, so I step away from the stove and look at the screen. I
told her to text me when she arrived so I could let her in. She’s five minutes
early.
I walk through the dark restaurant and flip on some lights on my way
through. She’s standing near the front, smoking a cigarette. When she sees
the door open, she flicks the cigarette into the street and then follows me
inside.
“Is Josh here?” she asks.
“No. It’s just me and you.” I gesture toward a table. “Have a seat. What do
you want to drink?”
She regards me silently for a moment, then says, “Red wine. Whatever
you have open.” She takes a seat in a booth, and I head back to plate our
food. I made coconut shrimp because I know it’s her favorite. I saw her fall in
love with it when I was nine years old.
It was on the one and only road trip she took me on. We went to Cape
Cod, which isn’t all that far from Boston, but it’s the only time I remember
my mother ever doing something with me on a day off. She usually slept or
drank her way through her days off, so the day trip to Cape Cod where we
tried coconut shrimp for the first time is not something that went
unappreciated by me.
I place our plates and drinks on a tray and walk it out to the table she’s
seated at. I set the food and wine in front of her, then take a seat across from
her. I slide silverware to her side of the table.
She stares at her plate for a beat. “You cooked this?”