Daniel's relief manifested in a warm smile. "I'll go make it then!"

Maisie softly interjected, catching him off guard, "Let me do it. I think... you haven't been in the kitchen much, so let

me handle it."

Daniel was momentarily stunned. He hesitated before allowing Maisie to head to the kitchen. She expertly tied on

an apron, checked the fridge, gathered ingredients, and began bustling around the stove.

Daniel stood awkwardly by the kitchen door. Despite being a grown man, he felt unsure. He didn't know whether to

offer help or how to assist, yet he cherished this moment deeply.

In no time, Maisie prepared breakfast—soup, warm milk, chicken sandwiches, sausages, and eggs. It mirrored

every meal she had cooked for him before.

"What are you standing there for?" Maisie handed him cutlery. "Sit down and eat."

"Mm..."

"Your stomach's weak. Start with some soup," she said softly. "If we have time, I can bake you some bread. I

remember you liked sweet ones, but they're too sugary and bad for your health. I'll make a low- sugar version that

you quite like."

childishly and blurted, "There's next

time!"

he paused, thinking he said the wrong

a next

silence, Maisie replied, "Next time, I'll bake it

"What?"

glanced at him, then lowered her head. "Hurry and eat. Don't

for a moment. He suddenly grinned foolishly,

much, the atmosphere resembled that of an old married couple

other's taste, and the other knew one's

quietly at that moment, morning light streaming through the window onto the dining table. They

other,

what Daniel

nose felt a bit tingly. He occasionally glanced at

a while, Maisie spoke first.

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