The pan came first. It flew through the air, clattering against the wall just inches from his shoulder. Veronica was already moving again before it even hit the ground.
"I don't want to talk to you!" she shouted, grabbing whatever she could reach. "I don't want to see you!"
A spatula followed. Then another pan. Then a heavier pot that scraped loudly against the counter before she hurled it with everything she had.
The kitchen turned into chaos in seconds—metal clanging, objects crashing, her breathing breaking between every throw. Some of them hit him. Most didn't. But Luca kept moving forward anyway, closing the distance step by step, like pain was not enough to stop him.
"Stop!" she screamed.
His arms came around her before she could grab anything else, pulling her in sharply against him. The sudden restriction made her gasp, her body instinctively fighting against his hold. "I'm sorry!" he said quickly.
