Rowan watched her rummaging around in the kitchen, and suddenly, the thought struck him: he didn’t want her to leave.
Wherever she was, that’s where home felt like.
Elissa carried out two sets of plates and forks. She was just about to sit down across from Rowan when he pulled out the chair right next to him. “Sit here,” he said.
It was almost comically couple-like.
But with the unspoken agreement hanging between them, Elissa didn’t hesitate. She slid into the seat beside him and began to eat.
As she tasted the food, a flicker of recognition crossed her face. “This flavor… I feel like I’ve had this before.”
Rowan gave her a sidelong glance. “Isn’t this just how homemade cooking always tastes?”
Janice had always been a brilliant cook; her home-style meals could rival any private chef’s.
But aside from Rowan and Ian, hardly anyone else had ever tasted her food.
Elissa considered for a moment. “True enough.”
“Eat up.” Rowan placed a piece of sweet and sour ribs on her plate, watching as she bowed her head, cheeks puffed out adorably as she chewed. For a second, a rare softness flickered in his deep-set eyes.
Anyone who saw him like this would think they were imagining things.
Rowan, showing that kind of expression? Impossible—must be seeing ghosts.
Outside, the sunset faded and the city lights began to glow.
Elissa ate the sweet and sour rib Rowan had served her, and for a moment, she felt transported back to childhood.
Once, she and Rowan had shared countless dinners together.
In fact, exactly 3,336 of them.
Every night, they’d have dinner together. Not once did either of them miss it.
They’d spent 3,336 days side by side.
Elissa didn’t know why, but suddenly her eyes felt hot.
She couldn’t quite explain it. Even though she was supposed to be angry with Rowan, right now she just felt this ache in her chest, like the sadness was welling up from her heart and spilling over, unstoppable.
Rowan noticed something was off and raised an eyebrow. “Is it so good it made you cry?”
The shower ran for a while, then stopped; she must have been brushing her teeth.
A couple minutes later, the water started up again, softer this time—the sound of her showering.
They used the same brand of body wash. She’d use his towel to dry herself, slip into the nightgown he’d chosen for her.
Rowan’s gaze darkened, a flush creeping up to the tips of his ears as his Adam’s apple bobbed.
When Elissa finished drying her hair and reached for the door, she felt a tremor of nerves.
After all, it was her first time.
She exhaled quietly, gathered her courage, and stepped out.
Rowan lounged lazily on the sofa, beckoning her over with a crook of his finger. “Come here.”
His voice was low and rough, so different from before.
Elissa hadn’t expected him to prefer the living room. She hesitated, then asked, “Can we… go to the bed instead?”

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