Chapter 58 Chapter Fifty-eight
Lena’s POV
The sound of my doorbell drifts into my sleep like it’s part of a dream.
At first, I ignore it. I’m warm. Comfortable. Wrapped in the soft, heavy kind of morning sleep that feels like sinking into a cloud.
But then it rings again. Louder.
My eyes flutter open, blurred by sleep and sunlight. I squint at the room, confused for a second because I’m still on the couch. My throw blanket is barely clinging to me, twisted around one of my legs. My hair is a mess. My neck hurts.
I groan softly and reach for my phone on the coffee table.
The screen lights up, and my brain nearly jumps out of my skull.
10:07 AM.
I sit up—too fast. My head spins.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “I really slept this late?”
The doorbell goes off a third time.
I rub my eyes, trying to force some sense into my body. I don’t even remember falling asleep last night. I remember reading Sebastian’s text—Use your drugs. Sleep early.
I remember smiling at it. A lot. Probably too much.
And now suddenly it’s morning. Or, well… very late morning.
The doorbell rings again, less patiently this time.
I groan and swing my good leg over the couch, reaching for one crutch. My toe still pulses a little, but the painkillers helped. I limp toward the door, mentally preparing to scold Avery for waking me up at ten like a criminal raid.
“Hold on, I’m coming!” I call.
But when I open the door, I freeze.
Because it’s not Avery.
It’s three women—in matching pastel uniforms—standing on my porch with arms full of…
Packages?
Bag's
Containers?
Food?
One is carrying a box taller than her waist. Another holds what looks like an entire bakery. The third is balancing two crates of beverages on a trolley.
“Uh…” I blink. “Hi?”
The lady in front smiles politely.
“Good morning, Miss Lena. Delivery for you.”
I stare. “Delivery? I didn’t order anything.”
The woman checks a digital sheet on her tablet. “This is the correct address. All items were ordered by Mr. Lancaster.”
My brain stops moving. Like someone hit the emergency brake inside my head.
Sebastian?
I look at the mountain of food again.
They brought enough to feed five starving families for two weeks.
I clear my throat. “Um… are you sure?”
The woman smiles again—professionally, patiently. “Yes, ma’am. He gave strict instructions to deliver everything this morning.”
I open my mouth to argue, but just then, my phone vibrates. I glance down.
A text from Sebastian.
Don’t reject what I sent. — S
A slow smile spreads across my face before I can stop it.
The delivery woman sees my expression and nods toward the door. “May we bring them inside?”
I step back. “Yeah. Yes. Please. Come in.”
They carry everything in—box after box, meal after meal.
The smell hits me instantly.
Fresh pasta. Soup. Gracefully plated salmon. Rice dishes. Salads. Fruit trays. A full dessert spread. Three containers labeled Breakfast. Five labeled Lunch. Six labeled Dinner. A row of juices. Smoothies. Teas.
My center table disappears under the mountain of food. My entire living room looks like a catered event.
And then—
As the women prepare to leave—
One hands me a small cream-colored card.
A handwritten note.
My breath catches as I open it.
His handwriting is smooth. Bold. Effortlessly masculine.
I don’t want you doing anything that will affect your healing toe.
Just rest and take care of yourself.
Much love,
Seb.
The smile that grows on my face is involuntary.
Soft.
Warm.
I press the note to my chest without realizing I’m doing it.
Of course that’s when Avery walks in through the unlocked door.
Because timing hates me.
She stops in her tracks with her mouth hanging so wide I could toss a donut in.
“Um. Lena.” She gestures dramatically at the food taking over the entire room. “Are we celebrating something? Did you win the lottery? Is it your birthday? Are you pregnant? What is happening?”
I burst into laughter despite myself. “No. God, no. None of that. I just… got back last night.”
She marches into the living room, still staring around in disbelief. “And you ordered the entire menu of a five-star restaurant because…?”
“I didn’t order it.”
Avery whips her head around. “Then who—wait.” Her eyes narrow. “Don’t tell me—”
“Sebastian sent it,” I say quietly.
Her jaw drops open again. “Sebastian sent all of this?!”
“Yeah.”
She blinks. “Lena. This could feed a small island.”
“I know.”
“This could feed this entire street.”
“I know.”
“This could feed your ancestors’ spirits.”
I laugh. “Avery.”
She plops down on the couch dramatically, then pauses when she sees my crutch leaning nearby.
Her expression changes instantly.
“What happened?” she asks, pointing. “Lena. Oh my God, why do you have crutches? Why are there crutches? Explain now.”
I shift awkwardly, adjusting my weight. “I… might’ve broken my toe yesterday.”
Her eyes widen. “You broke what?!”
“My toe."
“You broke your toe?” she repeats like it’s the end of the world. “What—how—when?”
“I hit it on the bathtub while taking a shower.”
“Oh my God.” She stares at my foot like it personally betrayed her. “Wait—so the crutches are from the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“Like you went to the emergency room?”
“Yes.”
Avery’s voice rises an octave. “And that was last night?!”
“Yes!”
“And you didn’t call me?!”
“I tried!” I protest. “Your phone wasn’t reachable.”
Avery’s face falls. “Ugh. I put it on Do Not Disturb.”
“Why?”
She sits up straighter, tosses her hair like a proud peacock, and announces:
“Because I had very hot sex with my gelato last night. And I did not want to be disturbed.”
I stare at her. “Avery—”
“No, you don’t understand.” She lifts a finger. “He is so good in bed. Like—amazing. Perfect.” Her expression melts into dreamy chaos. “I was floating.”
I laugh. “Okay, but—”
“But,” she interrupts dramatically, waving her hands, “this morning I woke up and saw a girl sending him sexy beach pictures. Bikini. Thong. Body all oiled up. Everything. And now I’m spiraling because what if he’s cheating?”
I soften immediately. “Avery, you don’t even know the context.”
She flops sideways on the couch like a dying mermaid. “I know. I KNOW. Which is why I haven’t confronted him yet.”
“You shouldn’t,” I say gently. “Not until you’re sure. People have friends. She might be someone he follows. It might mean nothing.”
Avery sighs deeply, then sits up and reaches for a juice bottle from the pile.
She pops it open and takes a sip.
“So… all this is because you broke your toe?”
I shake my head.
“No. It’s because Sebastian sent it.”
She freezes mid-sip.
Then slowly lowers the bottle.
“Oh. My. God.” She leans forward, gripping the edge of the couch. “Lena, this is insane.”
“I know.”
“No—you don’t know.” She stands dramatically. “Girl. This is romance-novel behavior. This is book-boyfriend behavior. This is—oh my God—this man is obsessed with you.”
My heart flutters. More than it should.
“Avery, stop,” I mutter.
“No. You stop.” She points at the table. “That is one week’s supply of affection. That is a whole relationship’s worth of care. That is—”
“Avery—”
“—that is a man in love.”
I go still.
My heart thumps hard. Once. Twice.
“I don’t think—”
“Have you ever had a man send you enough food to feed Jesus and his disciples?
“No—”
“Has any man ever fed you?
“Yes"
“Has any man ever fed you THIS MUCH?!”
“…Avery—”
“Exactly.”
She sits back down with a satisfied nod, as if she just solved world hunger.
I look down at the card in my hand.
Sebastian’s handwriting.
Sebastian’s words.
Sebastian’s insistence.
Much love.
Seb.
My chest tightens softly.
Avery follows my gaze and gasps. “Is that a note?! Give me that!”
I hold it to my chest. “No!”
She jumps over the couch like a wild animal. “Lena! Let me see!”
“No!” I clutch it tighter. “It’s private!”
She narrows her eyes like a cartoon villain. “I will snatch it."
“You will not.”
“Try me.”
We stare each other down.
Finally, she huffs and collapses beside me.
But when she speaks again, her voice is much softer.
“Lena… I’m serious. He cares. A lot.”
I swallow.
“I know,” I whisper.
Avery leans her head on my shoulder.
“So what are you going to do?” she asks.
“I… don’t know.”
She hums. “Well, start by eating. Because he sent enough calories to resurrect your toe.”
I laugh—really laugh—and Avery squeezes me.
Her eyes move over the table again.
“You said you got back last night?” she asks again
“Yeah.”
“And he dropped you off?”
“Yeah.”
“And he got your crutches from the hospital?”
“Yeah.”
“AND he sent all of this?”
I nod.
She crosses her arms like she’s judging the entire universe.
“Okay,” she says. “Yeah. No. This man is gone. Completely gone. Head over heels, no recovery.”
I try to hide my smile.
“Shut up,” I whisper.
“No,” Avery says. “YOU shut up. I’m right.”
I place the note down gently on the table.
My heart beats a little too fast.
The room is still full of food.
Still full of warmth.
Still full of him.
And Avery is still staring at everything like she’s witnessing a royal proposal.