Bound by the Past, Locked by the Heart novel Chapter 301

Randal Yates furrowed his brows. "Why are you suddenly asking about him?"

"His assistant called this afternoon to schedule a meeting tomorrow about a new editorial pitch," Willa Vance replied, keeping her tone natural to flawlessly conceal her probing intentions.

Randal fell silent for a moment before issuing a somber warning. "Julian York is incredibly shrewd and calculating. Keep your distance from him and avoid getting too involved."

Willa let out a soft, mocking laugh. "You always tell me to stay away from other people, yet you never set boundaries for yourself. Don't you find your double standards ridiculous, Randal?"

The atmosphere inside the car instantly plummeted to freezing.

Randal's face paled slightly. "Willa, Scarlett Sterling and I didn't..."

"Enough, I was just making a point," Willa cut him off sharply. "You don't need to explain your private life to me. I'm just reminding you that, given where we stand, you have absolutely no right to make demands of me."

A suffocating silence filled the car the moment her words settled.

Randal kept his gaze fixed on her, his lips parting several times, but he couldn't force out a single word of defense.

The car parked at the entrance of an alley in the historic district. Randal stepped out first, circling around to open her door.

Willa looked up and spotted an unassuming little diner tucked deep inside the alley, bustling with a lively crowd.

He walked beside her, his tone eager to please. "This place has been open for over a decade. The owner is a true Italian, and their handmade ravioli is as authentic as it gets. You once mentioned you'd never had proper, authentic ravioli."

Willa's footsteps faltered slightly.

That was a lifetime ago.

During the third year of their relationship, she had casually mentioned that she had never tried authentic, homemade ravioli.

Back then, he had promised, "I'll take you someday."

Neither of them could have predicted that, just a month later, they would no longer have a future together.

After years of going in circles, a fleeting promise from their youth was finally being fulfilled entirely too late.

The only problem was that she was no longer the girl who desperately craved a plate of that pasta.

Willa lowered her eyes and followed him inside.

The restaurant was tiny, boasting only six or seven tables, all of which were packed.

Randal seemed oblivious to her brush-off, his face radiating a gratified sense of satisfaction.

He attentively passed her the grated parmesan. "You always loved extra cheese on your pasta."

Willa kept her head down and ate, ignoring his comment.

Halfway through her meal, she set down her silverware and spoke calmly. "You don't have to do this, Randal."

He froze, lifting his gaze to meet hers.

"I told you, given where we stand, none of this changes anything. Besides, my tastes and preferences changed a long time ago."

The smile on Randal's face instantly solidified into something fragile.

He lowered his eyes, unable to hide his dejection. "I know, but I couldn't help it..."

"Couldn't help but try to compensate me? Or couldn't help but delude yourself into thinking I'd take you back?" Willa cut him off, her tone frigid. "You're being entirely too greedy, Randal."

The lively chatter of the restaurant seemed to fade into another dimension, leaving only the quiet, heavy sound of their breathing at the tiny table.