Pretty damsel
I ended up sharing the pizza slices with Ryan.
Over a glass of wine, we sat in the kitchen, skipping the introductions, and talked about Seven for a while before the silence came.
He looked nothing like Seven, but that was to be expected.
From what I remember, Seven said his nephew was adopted from a distant relative. I didn't ask for more details.
I gave him one of the pasta boxes.
Leaving it there would mean littering.
The other one would be my breakfast tomorrow.
"Sorry for interrupting your moment," Ryan spoke, breaking the silence at last. He sat across from me on the island with a genuine look.
I shook my head.
"Don't worry about it. I'm just missing my loved ones, that's all."
"I understand," Ryan refilled his empty wine glass. I declined his offer to fill mine.
I needed to get home sober. I can't risk getting drunk or at least tipsy. Embarrassing things tend to follow when that happens.