Tristan’s P.O.V

I shuffled into the tiny kitchen, trying to muster some confidence, though my hands were shaking more than I cared to admit.

“Alright,” I said, forcing a smile, “I’m making dinner. Not fancy, but it’ll fill us up.” I dug through the cupboard and pulled out three packs of instant noodles.

“Hope you like noodles,” I added, trying to keep it light, even though my stomach was knotted.

Diego’s eyes went wide, then narrowed. “You’re ...