Chapter 407 Table Salt

In Cherise’s memory, every detail from the previous day played out like a vivid scene. She couldn’t help but blush, her face resembling a blazing crimson sunset, yet she nodded with a sweet smile and said, “I could use a little something to eat.”

“I’ll make some pasta for you,” the man offered.

He responded with a warm smile and gracefully made room for her. On the bedside table behind. him sat a plate of bolognese meatball pasta.

Cherise gazed at the dish and then back at Damien. “Did you… make this?”

It was evident that this was his first attempt at preparing a meal for her.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

A sheepish chuckle escaped him. “I gave it a try; it might not be as good as your cooking, but it’s

edible.”

Cherise found herself in stunned silence. Her eyes widened in disbelief. He… actually cooked for

me?

the need to enter the

after their marriage, their house had never been without a chef. He was the kind of who never

person

picked up her fork, and took a bite. It was decent, though it

bland,” she said,

his hand to stop her. “Let me do it.” He double-checked, “You want salt, right?” Cherise

rose from his seat and quickly

he returned with a bottle

some salt to her pasta and gave it

sweetness to the

a pinch from the small bottle of salt Damien had handed her, and it, too, turned out to be sweet.

help but laugh at the irony.

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of bed. “I think I’ll

a hand on her arm. “I’ll go.

her brow. While his sudden culinary efforts were surprising, he seemed particularly helpful today, and a vague sense of foreboding began to creep into

deep breath, she gently pushed his hand away. “It’s

that, she hurried downstairs, wearing pink bunny

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