Tatum said, "Miss, you should drink it now. If you wait too long, it'll get cold." Elora took the bowl of soup and sipped it gracefully.

After finishing half the bowl, she set it down. "I'm a little drunk, but not completely. I can still walk on my own, and my mind is clear. I remember everything I did and said. Half a bowl is enough for me."

It was late, and she didn't want to drink too much liquid before bed.

"Tatum, whose daughter is your fiancée? Where is she? If you don't mind, can you tell me?" Elora was persistent. She had asked him before, but he never gave her a straight answer.

He always brushed it off, saying he wanted to focus on work first and that marriage wasn't urgent. He reminded her that he was still in his twenties-his older brother didn't marry until thirty. If he didn't find a wife this year, he could wait a little longer.

Elora suddenly felt a pang of jealousy toward his fiancée. She didn't have to do anything, yet she already had him.

She wondered what his fiancée had done to win his grandmother's favor, enough for her to personally arrange the match and give him a one-year deadline to win her over.

three months. That meant he had nine months left to fulfill his grandmother's

always by her side, cooking for her every day, he wouldn't have time

as the idea came,

want to be an obstacle in

was extraordinary—a man unlike anyone she had ever met. Still, she refused to be the

need to

wanted to pursue his fiancée,

Unless...

grandmother's arrangement, abandon the pursuit, and declare that she was the one he loved. Then, she would fight for her

he walked away from his grandmother's plan,

He hadn't started pursuing her. She might not even know she

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