"Sir, Ma'am, Mister Sherman, dinner is ready."

Polly brought out the last dish from the kitchen. The aroma wafted through the air from afar.

"It smells so good. Nothing beats the food you cook, Polly," said Sherman as he helped his grandmother to the dining table. That night, it would only be the three of them-Sherman and his grandparents- dining.

"Come back more often, then. I'll cook delicious meals for you every day," said Polly as she served soup to their bowls.

"Yes. If you want to eat Polly's food, come back more often. She loses motivation to cook when you're not home," added Chelsea.

Polly smiled. "Your grandparents have smaller appetites now, and more so your mother. Only your father eats more. You, Mister Sherman, tend to eat the most."

"The more you eat, the more accomplished Polly feels," Roger chimed in.

Polly prepare a

frowned slightly. "I can cook another batch if Mister Sherman wants to drink it. This soup won't taste as

yourself. I'll come back home myself if I want more of

mind, and the next day, when he returned to the office, he finally managed to put the matter behind him. He decided to find a woman to fake a marriage with, at least to reassure his

from a background that would be acceptable to his parents. Most importantly, there could be no emotional entanglement between them, and they should be

of criteria was easy to meet, but

Sherman had repeatedly taken down the photos of him and Claire holding hands, no one dared to

would face her again. 'Is it necessary to inquire

he knew the answer, he did not want to believe it. He did not want to accept that the woman he once loved could turn out to be this

wanted

recall how many words she spoke during their time together

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