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A large grin crept up to my face as I opened the lid of the rice cooker to check if the coconut rice had softened. The moisture was all dried up and it looked cooked enough to eat, so I turned it off. It was hard not to give in to the excitement that pumped through me because I grabbed the Wok on the counter, tossing it in the air and catching it again before turning off the cooker, and placing it on it.
I drizzled a little olive oil into the pan, regulating the heat a little bit, so it wouldn't heat up too much.
If anyone had told me a few months ago that I would be making dinner for a woman, in a woman's house, let alone be happy while I was doing it, I probably wouldn't have hesitated to put a gun through the person's skull because it seemed impossible. Not like it seemed. It w
