CHAPTER 19 – The Taste of Memories
"Yeah, sure. Besides, it can't be that good," Kerra said with a teasing smirk.
Alex—Zodac then—lifted the lid. The moment the aroma drifted out, Kerra's eyes widened in disbelief.
He had recreated her favorite meal… perfectly.
A bowl of extra-crispy fried chicken, golden and steaming. Another bowl of homemade fries, pale and spotless, exactly the way she liked—none of the brown patches she always complained about. And finally, a small plate of her favorite sauce, thick, glossy, and rich.
Everything looked so good she didn't even know where to start.
But being Kerra, she crossed her arms stubbornly, refusing to admit how impressed she really was. Instead, she just smiled lightly and said—
"You know… if this isn't as good as it looks, then you and I are gonna have a problem."
"Just taste it," Alex replied, rolling his eyes. "Let's get this over with."
"Fine. Here I go," she said dramatically.
"So dramatic," Alex muttered, unable to hide his grin.
Kerra laughed softly, picking up her fork. She pressed it into a piece of chicken and was just about to take the first bite when—
"Stop!" Alex yelled.
She jumped. "What?!"
"You forgot the sauce," he said, raising both hands toward it like it was treasure.
Kerra gave him a playful glare. "Now you're the one being dramatic."
But she smiled—wide, genuine—and dipped the chicken into the sauce.
The moment she tasted it, her eyes widened.
"Spicy!" she complained… but took another bite.
And another.
And another.
"Hold it right there," Alex said, grabbing the bowl away from her reach.
"What?" She frowned.
"You and your deception," Alex said, chuckling. "The deal said you have to smile. But you're enjoying it."
She folded her arms, fighting back her grin. "Alright, fine—I admit it. It's fucking good. Now give it back."
"All you have to do… is smile."
Kerra's façade finally cracked. A full, bright smile spread across her face.
"Good," Alex said softly. "I always love to see you smile."
He handed her the food and turned to leave.
But Kerra wasn't done.
"Hey—hey," she called, quickly standing up. She closed the distance between them until their noses nearly brushed.
"You're forgetting something," she whispered, her breath warm on his lips.
"Your breath smells like meat," Alex joked.
She scoffed. "A deal is a deal."
"I didn't do it for a kiss," Alex said honestly. "I just like being right. I love winning."
She wasn't listening. Her eyes were focused on his lips as she twirled strands of his soft red hair between her fingers.
"I just don't want to—"
But before he could finish, her lips crashed into his.
Alex froze for a moment, then melted into the kiss, hands slipping around her waist as the world disappeared around them.
She pulled back only for a breath, her eyes burning with fire.
"I know you want to. You're just shy," she whispered before kissing him again, deeper this time.
The memory shattered like glass.
Zodac sat beneath the tree, tears slipping silently down his cheeks. His shoulders trembled, each breath shallow and uneven.
That kiss…
that smile…
the warmth of her touch…
All of it felt like a cruel joke now.
He dragged a hand across his face, but the tears kept falling.
"I was such a fool," he whispered, voice cracking.
He leaned back against the rough bark, staring into the emptiness of the forest canopy. The leaves above him swayed gently, unaware of the storm breaking inside him.
"I should have known. I was naïve. Or maybe… maybe I did know. Maybe I just didn't want to accept the truth."
His voice turned hollow.
"All the time I spent. All the energy. Everything I had—I gave it all so she would never lack. I gave her everything."
He laughed bitterly, but it wasn't the sound of humor. It was the sound of someone breaking.
"Why couldn't I see it sooner?"
A sharp ache settled in his chest.
"I was blinded by love," he said, spitting the last word like poison.
He remembered Princess Mira.
The betrayal.
The lies.
The way people used him as if his heart existed just to be broken.
"There is no love," he whispered. "Not in this world."
His hands clenched until his knuckles turned white.
"There is only instinct. Survival. People take what they want, use what they can, and leave the rest behind."
He stood slowly, staring down the path before him. The wind picked up, carrying the faint smell of rain and decay—fitting for the emptiness inside him.
His eyes were no longer soft.
They were cold.
Empty.
Unforgiving.
"That's all humans can do," he murmured.
With that, Zodac turned away from the tree and began walking toward the village in the distance. Not because he had hope. Not because he expected kindness.
But because there was nowhere left to fall.
His heart was already in pieces.
All that remained…
was the man forged from what was left.