Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 291

At Bennett’s suggestion, he scooped up a ravioli, blew on it gently, and popped it into his mouth.

The pasta was thin and delicate, stuffed generously, and the broth was rich—a simple, rustic flavor that spoke of home-cooked comfort.

He nodded in honest approval.

“Mmm, this is really good.”

Across the table, Gwyneth watched him eat with a smile that spread across her face, almost as if his enjoyment was more satisfying to her than having the meal herself.

After swallowing, Bennett looked up at her, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

“How’d you find this place, anyway?”

This neighborhood seemed a bit out of character for her usual haunts.

Gwyneth’s hand paused, almost imperceptibly, as she held her spoon. She lowered her gaze, watching the steam curl up from her bowl as she answered, her voice quieter than before, as if trying to hide something.

“Oh… I just stumbled on it once while wandering around, that’s all.”

But her thoughts drifted far from the present.

She remembered—back then, not long after her mother passed away, she’d felt hollow inside, like something essential had been torn out of her. She’d wandered aimlessly through the streets, not even knowing how she ended up near this old neighborhood.

Exhausted, hungry, and at her lowest, she must have looked as lost as she felt.

That’s when Mrs. White, the elderly woman running this little food stand, had noticed her standing alone on the sidewalk, pale and listless. With a warm smile, Mrs. White had beckoned her over, her voice gentle and kind:

“Sweetheart, have you eaten yet? Come, let me treat you to a bowl of ravioli. On the house.”

That steaming bowl had warmed her frozen insides and, for a moment, chased away the chill that had settled over her heart.

But what surprised her most was how much the ravioli tasted like her mother’s—almost as if a piece of her past had found its way back to her.

She glanced at Bennett sitting across from her now, quietly tucking into his food. Suddenly, she remembered how once, she’d desperately wanted to bring Julian here, to share this hidden little treasure with him.

But when she’d suggested it, Julian had just sat in the car, barely glancing at the humble street stand before wrinkling his nose in disgust, his words dripping with disdain:

“You actually eat at places like this? God knows how unhygienic it is. Come on, let’s go, I’ll take you out for French instead.”

She could still recall the sting of disappointment and embarrassment from that moment.

And now—Bennett was right there in front of her, sitting on a wobbly folding stool, eating this ordinary ravioli with genuine appreciation, even saying it was good.

The contrast was so stark it sent ripples through her heart she hadn’t expected.

While Bennett and Gwyneth shared their quiet, comforting midnight meal, things couldn’t have been more different for Julian.

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