Kylie Cantrall's Arc

Chapter 62 of 78

The opening was fixed. But Kylie walked back to the house and stopped in the kitchen. Her stomach growled. It was noon on her wedding day, and no one had eaten. She and Arianna had planned every word and every note. They had never once cooked a real meal on this island together. If they didn't eat now, the whole day would turn tense and hungry before the vows. Kylie opened the fridge. She found eggs, bread, butter, a wedge of cheese, and a bag of green grapes. She remembered Arianna's letters. Grilled cheese. Green grapes. Simple food she loved. Kylie went to Arianna's door and knocked. She always knocked now. Arianna opened it, still in her robe, guitar strap in one hand. "We forgot to eat," Kylie said. "I want to make you lunch. Right now. Both of us in the kitchen." Arianna set the guitar down. "You didn't plan this in advance." "No. I'm asking you." Arianna smiled. "Then yes." They stood side by side at the stove. Kylie buttered the bread. Arianna sliced the cheese too thick, and Kylie let her. The pan hissed. Kylie flipped the first sandwich too early, and one corner came apart. "That one's mine," Arianna said, and took the broken one. Steam rose off the pool fountain outside the window. The puppy pawed at Kylie's ankle, begging. She gave him a grape, then stopped him from eating the seeds. They carried two plates to the table by the tall glass doors. The sandwiches were gold and crisp. The grapes sat in a bowl between them. No cameras. No label. No mother calling. Just the two of them and the food they made. Arianna took a bite. Cheese pulled in a long string. She laughed and wiped her chin. "First real meal here," she said. "First of a lot," Kylie said. They ate slowly. Kylie hadn't rushed anything in days. She watched Arianna chew, watched her steal a second sandwich half, and felt her shoulders drop for the first time all morning. The hunger was gone. The tension never got its chance. When the plates were empty, Arianna stood and stacked them. "Now I'm ready," she said. "Now I can sing." Kylie carried the plates to the sink. Outside, the beach altar waited with its white linens and two palms. In a few hours, four people would gather on the sand. She dried her hands. The last quiet thing was done. They had eaten together on this island, as two people who lived a life here, not as a star and a fan. Nothing stood between them now but the walk to the water and the words they had written. "Go get dressed," Kylie said. "I'll meet you at the gate."