Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 277

“Wow! This is amazing!”

Her eyes lit up with delight, cheeks puffed out like a satisfied little hamster as she spoke with her mouth still full, words tumbling out in a muffled, eager rush.

“Where did you even find this place? I tried to go a while back, but everyone said it had shut down! Did it open again or something?”

She ate so quickly that a few buttery crumbs clung to the corner of her mouth.

Bennett couldn’t help but soften at the sight of her—so unguarded, so intent on her treat, like a hungry kitten. Without thinking, he pulled a napkin from the packet and gently brushed the crumbs from her lips.

His fingertips brushed her mouth, and for a split second, both of them froze.

Their gazes met, and the moment stretched—air humming with a silent, electric tension. The starlight, the distant city skyline, the warm glow of the tent’s lanterns—it was as if everything had conspired to frame this quiet intimacy.

Bennett was the first to look away. He turned toward the city lights as if the tender gesture had been nothing at all.

Gwyneth hurriedly wiped her mouth with her own napkin, focusing intently on the task.

In a steady voice, Bennett explained, “I tracked down the couple who used to run the place. The wife’s been ill for years, and her husband needed to take care of her full-time, so he closed up shop.”

Gwyneth listened, a bittersweet ache blooming quietly in her chest. “Oh… so that’s what happened…”

Bennett went on, his tone calm but gentle. “Once I knew the situation, I helped them hire a reliable caretaker. Now someone can help him look after his wife during the day, which gives him a little free time—and he decided to reopen the bakery. It gives him something to hold on to, and a bit of extra income.”

Gwyneth nodded, a new respect growing for Bennett’s thoughtfulness and quiet kindness.

But then another question surfaced, swift and pressing. She turned to study his profile, curiosity written all over her face.

“But… how did you know about this place in the first place? Did you used to come here too?”

She remembered the bakery—it was tucked away on a quiet street, mostly serving locals. It wasn’t famous or flashy. The only reason she’d found it years ago was because a little boy she used to know had taken her there.

Back then, she’d pester him endlessly to sneak out and buy butter cookies with her.

Given the strict, privileged world Bennett grew up in, he shouldn’t have ever crossed paths with a little bakery like that.

He turned his head slightly at her question, the faintest, most enigmatic smile curving his lips. For a moment, his gaze seemed to drift past her, as if seeing something from long ago.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “There used to be a little girl who loved these cookies.”

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