| casually washed the eggs and tomatoes at the kitchen counter next to him before starting to look around for a
knife. "Looking for something?"
"A knife. Don't you guys have one?"
He reached into a cababove us and pulled out a knife covered in dust. After cleaning it, he took the tomato
from my hand.
"Max, do you not use this knife often?"
"Uh, we usually eat out."
I nodded.
In my previous life, Claude and | never shared moments like this in the kitchen. This taround, it's with Max.
| want a normal life, a happy stable home, and a steady partner who can supportboth in my career and
emotionally.
Max seems like the best choice.
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Lost in thought, | accidentally dropped the eggshell into the bowl.
Cringing at my own culinary mishap, Max glanced over and fished out the shell.
It was as if he was removing the thorns from my heart.
"Max, thank you. I'll make you a sunny-side-up with double yolks!"
It seemed he was slowly winning over my heart, removing all the barriers, healing me, and givinga chance
to start my own life.
As | poured the oil, | automatically backed up to dodge the splatters.
Max quickly took the spatula from me, saying, "Why don't you wait on the couch?"
"Are you saying I'm in the way?" | puffed up, standing on my tiptoes and glaring at him.
"I'm just afraid you're too good at everything."
What? | stumbled, not quite keeping my balance, and he caughtwith one hand while still holding the spatula
with the other. "No need to fall forliterally."
What?
This was the second tMax had joked with me, showing his sense of humor.
"Who's falling for who," | muttered, turning away but not pushing him away. He didn't let go either, and that pre-
dating, flirtatious tension got my heart racing.
So there we were, him cooking eggs with one hand, the other wrapped around me.
It felt like we were an old, comfortable couple.
"I'll add the spaghetti," | said,
reaching for the spaghetti and gently dropping them into the boiling pot. Still, shot broth splashed up, and
Max quickly shieldedbehind him.
en
Eating the spaghetti, | realized that even if he didn't cook often, what he made was delicious. "Max, can | eat
dinner with you every night? I'm easy to feed, just a plate of spaghetti will do."
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If | were alone, I'd just grab a quick bite or dine out with Richard for company.
"Claire Floyd." He suddenly set down his utensils and looked atseriously.
Panic set in. Was he about to reject me?
"Never mind, just stick to your glucose water for dinner," | said, trying to play it cool and hide my fear of
rejection. "You're eating withfor a lifetime."
His words stunnedagain.
Was this his way of confessing? Or even proposing? Things were moving too fast.
"Dr. Hilton, | plan on getting married someday. | can't eat with you for a lifetime."
"Then who will you eat with?" His calm gaze was intense.
| looked down, unable to respond.
| had prepared myself for a life of solitude.