Chapter 369: Preparing Food

Book:Honey, Love Me One More Time Published:2024-6-2

With a faint, forced smile, Estelle added in a soft tone, “I’m best at cooking this dish. But it’s a pity that neither you nor Mr. Mysterious have tasted the dishes I prepare.”
“He hasn’t eaten it either?” Cristofer asked.
“No. But I cooked other dishes for him.”
Cristofer nodded without saying anything.
“Has Gretchen ever cooked for you?” Estelle suddenly asked.
Cristofer shook his head. “No, she can’t cook.”
“I remember that she was pregnant before. Now her lactation period has ended, right?”
Thinking she still believed Gretchen’s baby was his, Cristofer quickly clarified, “The baby is not mine. Back then, Gretchen wanted to marry me, so she underwent IVF treatment and lied to me, saying she was pregnant with my child. The baby has nothing to do with me.”
“I know,” Estelle replied, “It’s challenging for Gretchen to conceive naturally. IVF treatment would be the only option if she wanted to have your child. But for that, she would need your cooperation. However, you already knew she was responsible for your parents’ deaths back then. It’s impossible that you would have cooperated with her.”
Hearing her understanding, Cristofer sighed in relief. “I thought you still believed that Gretchen’s baby was mine. I’m glad you don’t.”
“Since her lactation period has ended, she’ll face justice and go to jail soon,” Estelle continued. “I don’t know how you feel about her now. Maybe you can’t bear to see her in jail. After all, she was your ex-girlfriend, and you were together for many years. But for me, she is my enemy, and I despise her completely. She killed my father and Mrs. Moorsum and harmed Yohan and Yvonne. I’ll never forgive her; she must pay for her actions.”
Shaking his head, Cristofer said, “She had ulterior motives right from the start when she got close to me. The years we spent together are not worth my nostalgia. Moreover, she’s responsible for my parents’ death, so I also despise her. I’ll ensure she goes to jail as soon as possible.”
Hearing his determination, Estelle looked up at him and asked, “What’s your plan?”
“I’ll simply do what needs to be done. I’ll contact my lawyer to handle it. Don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
“Estelle,” Cristofer spoke gently, “I’ve thought about what you said, and you’re absolutely right. While monopolizing might bring me high profits, it’s only through cooperation and healthy competition that the domestic jewelry industry can truly flourish. Since I have a position in this industry, I should take responsibility for making it better rather than just focusing on my own interests.”
The dish was finally ready. Estelle picked up a piece of pork, placed it on a plate, and handed it to him, saying, “Give it a try.”
Seeing that Estelle wasn’t interested in continuing their previous conversation, Cristofer refrained from pressing the matter. He accepted the plate, forked a piece of pork into his mouth, and savored it.
“It’s delicious. The pork is crispy, and the sweet and sour sauce is delightful. It tastes as good as a dish from a high-class restaurant,” he complimented.
“Do you think it needs any additional seasoning?” Estelle inquired.
“No, it’s perfect as it is,” Cristofer responded gently while chewing the food.
Estelle nodded, garnished the dish with some green vegetable leaves, and sprinkled fried white sesame seeds over it, enhancing its presentation.
“Let me take this out for you,” Cristofer offered. Without waiting for Estelle’s response, he took the plate, proceeded to the dining room, and set it on the table.
Sitting at the table and observing Cristofer closely, Alexander couldn’t help but chuckle, remarking, “Impressive, Cristofer. I never expected to see this side of you.”
Cristofer noticed that Alexander’s gaze had been fixed on his sleeve. He lowered his head and realized that his sleeve was stained with cornflour. The white cornflour stain stood out distinctly since he was wearing a black suit.
“Oh, I’ve got my sleeve dirty,” he admitted and tried to brush the cornflour off his suit jacket. However, a noticeable mark remained on the fabric.
Alexander burst into laughter and said, “Belle just claimed that you and Estelle are a real couple, and I had my doubts. Now, seeing you like this, I believe it!”
Sitting beside Alexander, Belle raised her eyebrows and teased, “Cristofer, I never expected you to be so amiable at home. You’re quite different from how you appeared in video calls. Whenever we saw you before, you seemed like an iceberg.”
Her remarks made Cristofer smile helplessly and ask, “Was I really cold and distant during the video calls?”
Belle nodded, adding a touch of exaggeration, “Yes, your cold demeanor made me feel like I was on the brink of freezing to death. Every time I interpreted for both of you, I had to be exceptionally cautious, fearing that I might make a mistake and upset you. Cristofer, with all due respect, I think being your secretary must be the greatest challenge in the world.”
Cristofer displayed a wry smile at her description.
“But being your wife is quite nice,” Belle continued. “You may be distant when dealing with others, but you’re incredibly tender when you’re with Estelle. It’s no wonder she chose you.”
“I believe the greatest challenge in the world is not being my secretary but being my wife,” Cristofer confessed with a tone of remorse. “She’s endured a lot because of me. The biggest mistake she ever made was becoming my wife.”
As he finished speaking, Cristofer turned his gaze toward Estelle, his eyes filled with affection.
Carrying the last dish she had just prepared, Estelle left the kitchen. She walked to the dining room, placed the dish on the table, and then sat next to Cristofer.
“These are some homemade dishes. I hope you enjoy them,” she said with a charming smile, her voice sweet to the ears.
Cristofer couldn’t help but wonder if Estelle had heard what he said earlier. Deep down, he hoped she had heard it and understood his guilt, perhaps allowing him to make amends.
Observing Estelle reach for a napkin, he took it from her hand, unfolded it, and gently placed it on her lap, saying, “Allow me to assist you.”
During this gesture, his hand inadvertently brushed against the back of her hand.
Feeling the warmth and dryness of his hand, Estelle looked at him with a mildly surprised expression.
Sensing her gaze, Cristofer inquired gently, “Is something the matter?”
“Nothing,” Estelle replied, lowering her head.
In her thoughts, she couldn’t help but reflect, ‘Cristofer, the touch of your hand is so familiar. It reminds me of Mr. Mysterious touching my hand…’