Marco took in the scene contentedly, yearning for this simple, domestic life to be his forever.


    Just the two of them, sharing meals, witnessing the changing seasons together.


    He no longer concerned himself with the affairs of the Bryant family or the judgment of society.


    Oblivious to his reflections, Loraine proficiently sorted the groceries andmenced meal


    preparations.


    Her movements were deliberate and elegant, resembling the creation of an art piece more than a mere


    act of cooking. It was as if she wasn’t just preparing a meal but was crafting a culinary masterpiece.


    This enraptured Marco, who found himself staring at her in wonder.


    Detecting his stare, Loraine turned around to find him smiling softly, his gaze tenderly fixed on her.


    He remained silent.


    “What are you looking at?” Loraine teased, lifting an eyebrow yfully.


    Marco nced down slightly, and then walked towards her, encircling her waist from behind in a loving


    embrace.


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    “I was just reflecting on how fortunate I am and how remiss I was in not valuing you when we first


    married. I nearly missed the opportunity to share my life with such an extraordinary wife. Thankfully,


    destiny granted me a second chance.”


    Memories of their three-year marriage washed over Marco as he watched


    Loraine bustling about in the kitchen. He felt a twinge of regret for not cherishing their time together


    previously and gratitude for still having the chance to be with her now.


    At least, Loraine was still willing to cook for him.


    In their modest apartment, a mere few dozen square meters, Loraine had transformed it into a warm,


    inviting haven. This was the home he had yearned for all along.


    A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y


    The ce where Loraine resided was his home.


    Holding Loraine in his arms, Marco noticed that she stiffened and her hand, which had been chopping


    vegetables, stopped for a moment. She squirmed a little and chided him gently, “Let go, I need to finish


    cooking.”


    Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink, and Marco couldn’t help but be enticed by her flushed


    ear, so near his lips that a simple bow of his head would bring him in contact with it.


    His gaze deepened at the thought.


    However, Loraine remained oblivious to his inner turmoil and prodded,


    “Marco, if you want to help, you’ll have to let me go first, or we’ll have nothing to eat tonight.”


    Finally shaken from his daydream, Marco reluctantly released the soft, warm figure from his arms. He


    then took the knife from Loraine’s hand.


    Loraine observed him curiously as he cleared his throat and somewhat awkwardly offered, “Loraine, let


    me cook for you tonight. You can rx.”


    He wanted to cook?