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Get Him Out of Your Curls

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Summary

“She feeds the city with her hands. But who will ever feed her soul?” Areej has never been anyone’s dream girl — not in her family, not in her dating history, and certainly not in the mirror. She’s 33, curvy, Lebanese-Mexican, and the proud owner of one of New York’s most beloved café spots. Her food? Famous. Her confidence? Selective. Her love life? Let’s not. She’s been rejected, forgotten, and betrayed one too many times. So now, her only vows are to her oven, her regulars, and the smell of fresh bread that fills the mornings. That is, until Matthew, the polished lawyer with Henry Cavill charm, starts noticing more than just her tuna sandwiches… and Bassel, the handsome Syrian doctor with kind eyes and old-world depth, walks in asking for her shawarma — and maybe more. Torn between past wounds, cultural pressures, and a growing storm of feelings she swore she buried years ago, Arej will have to ask herself the one question she’s always avoided: What if love isn’t a threat… but a choice she deserves to make? This is a story about heartbreak, food, family, and the courage to love yourself first.

Genre
Romance
Author
DarkArwa
Status
10h ago
Chapters
19
Rating
5.0 (2 reviews)
Age Rating
18+

PROLOGUE

Setting: 6:12 PM. Rain taps softly on the café’s glass windows. The sign has been flipped to Closed. Chairs are stacked, lights dimmed. The hum of the fridge is the only sound—until the door creaks open.

Areej wiped her hands on her apron, sighing at the silence that followed another long day.

Tuna crumbs. Coffee grounds. Milk frother left on again. She moved through the café with practiced rhythm, humming an old Spanish song her father used to whistle. The rain outside had turned steady now, blurring the city’s sharp edges.

She walked to the door to lock it.

That’s when it opened.

The bell above the door gave a hesitant ring.

Areej blinked. “Sorry, we’re clo—”

He stepped in. Soaked. Pale. Eyes hazy.

Not charming. Not confident. Just… wrong.

“Help me,” he murmured, clutching the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

Then he collapsed.

She stood frozen for a beat. His tall frame hit the floor hard. A man like him — always neat, always tailored — now sprawled on the tiles of her café, helpless.

Areej’s heart hammered.

“Hey! Can you hear me?!” she shouted, crouching beside him.

His breath was shallow, his forehead damp. She loosened his collar. A medical bracelet peeked from his wrist: Type 1 Diabetes.

She didn’t think—she moved.

Within minutes, she had dragged, pushed, and half-carried him up the narrow stairs behind the kitchen. Her spine screamed in protest, but she didn’t care. She was used to heavy lifting.

Outside, the rain kept falling.

And neither of them knew…

that this wasn’t the beginning of their story.

It was the moment everything they had been running from finally caught up with them.



Every story has a moment that changes everything.

This wasn’t where theirs began…

It was where neither of them could pretend anymore.