ROXETTEI ate like I hadn’t seen food in weeks.At breakfast that morning, I devoured everything on my plate — scrambled eggs, bacon, toast with butter and jam, fresh fruit, and two glasses of orange juice. I barely paused between bites. My mom watched me with raised eyebrows, but it was Chandler’s amused gaze that made me finally slow down.He leaned back in his chair, coffee in hand, a small smirk playing on his lips.“Someone’s hungry,” he said, voice low and teasing.I felt my cheeks heat up instantly. I swallowed the last bite of toast and wiped my mouth with a napkin, suddenly shy under his watchful eyes.“I… I’ve just been stressed out lately,” I mumbled, looking down at my empty plate. “That’s why. Stress makes me eat more.”Chandler chuckled softly, the sound warm and fond. He reached across the table and brushed his thumb over my knuckles.“I’m not complaining,” he said. “Eat as much as you want, baby girl. You need the energy.”He watched me for a moment longer, eyes soft w
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