Julian, sitting at the table, was as well-behaved as a child, which made Aurora almost burst into laughter.
“I didn’t sneak a taste,” he said, looking for praise.
Aurora felt a bit helpless. “Good.”
“So… Shouldn’t there be some reward?” He raised an eyebrow, giving her a devilish look.
Aurora hadn’t grasped his implication when she suddenly yelped as he pulled her onto his lap.
Her hands instinctively clung to his chest as he stole her breath with a kiss.
What a horny man.
He even kissed her while cooking and eating. As the kissing went on, his hand was wandering over her body.
It was only when her cheeks were flushed that he let her go, still not fully satisfied, “LAurora, don’t we look just like a married couple? Why don’t you marry me?”
It turned out this had been his plan all along, to besiege her fortress step by step, waiting for her to fall into his sweet trap.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Aurora said, her cheeks red, nearly falling for his trick.
At moments like these, a woman couldn’t think straight, and she might have easily agreed.
“You said when you grew up I should marry you, and I think you’re grown up now,” Julian shamelessly insisted.
“The food’s getting cold. Let’s eat.” Aurora quickly got off his lap, deliberately changing the subject.
That promise was made in the past, and after experiencing so much, she was no longer that naive girl.
Fifteen years were long enough to change everything. She didn’t understand him back then, let alone now.
Julian saw the fleeting coldness in her eyes and smiled helplessly.
It seemed thawing the ice in her heart wouldn’t be easy.
“Little Bunny, your cooking is quite good. Where did you learn it?” Julian eyed the dishes in front of him.
Tuna casserole, cream of mushroom, and spaghetti carbonara, all looked good.
Aurora had thought he wouldn’t be accustomed to such simple fare.
With his status, he was used to dining lavishly on exquisite meals, yet he seemed to enjoy these dishes.
“I found the recipes online and just practiced a few times,” Aurora replied nonchalantly.
“You’re the esteemed Miss Montgomery. Even though you went abroad, you wouldn’t be cooking for yourself. What happened?” Julian probed again.
“Nothing happened.” In the past three years, she had vanished without a trace, and Julian had searched for her many times.
He had thought that even if she wasn’t living luxuriously, at least she would be alright, but it seemed that wasn’t the case.
If she were truly doing well, why would she learn to cook and have a serious stomach ailment?
And why would she attempt to jump out of a window in the middle of the night in a dazed state?
All these things only proved one thing. She was not doing well at all.
Aurora had never been one to display her misery to gain others’ sympathy, although she knew that showing vulnerability could be a woman’s most potent weapon.
Deep down, she was a strong woman, capable of presenting herself as cold, charming, or enchanting as required.
But she never adopted a posture of weakness to elicit sympathy. Instead, she became stronger, stronger than anyone else.
She did not require sympathy from others, believing it was only the weak who needed it, so she preferred to say nothing. Seeing her reluctance to talk about her past, Julian refrained from pressing further, though the atmosphere grew somewhat awkward.
“I’m done eating. You do the dishes,” Aurora declared as she gathered the cutlery into the kitchen.
“What? Me wash the dishes?” Julian was utterly bewildered. This woman really dared to ask. Upon seeing the fleeting chill on her face, Julian resigned. “Alright, I’ll do the dishes.”
He hated washing dishes more than anything, particularly the greasiness of it. He looked around with a frown. He was in dire need of a dishwasher.
Hearing the sound of water from the kitchen, Aurora was surprised he actually went ahead with the washing. She slowly made her way to the kitchen. Feeling Aurora behind him, Julian turned around with a grin. “What? Feeling sorry for me?”
Instead, Aurora removed her apron and placed it around his neck before she said, “I’m just worried about your clothes getting wet. They must be quite expensive.”
Julian was furious, gritting his teeth. “Then you tie it on me.”
Aurora complied, wrapping her arms around his waist as she tied the apron, a position that resembled a hug. Julian could smell the fragrance of her hair just by bowing his head.
Deciding to embrace her fully, Julian pulled her close, their bodies pressed together. ” You brought this on yourself, Little Bunny.”
“I was just kindly tying your apron,” Aurora said helplessly, realizing he was not someone to casually approach.
“Alright, go out and wait for me.” This time, he let her go without further action.
Aurora turned and left. She usually took a nap after lunch if she could. When Julian came out, he found her already asleep on the sofa, her sleeping face as pure and flawless as it was three years ago.
The woman before him overlapped with the memory of the little girl from years ago. Julian gently caressed her cheek. “Little Bunny…”
The balcony doors were wide open, the sea breeze lifting the curtains. The wind was strong today, so Julian covered her with a thin blanket. He knelt down, removed her shoes, and ensured she lay comfortably on the sofa for a more peaceful sleep.
Aurora slept soundly, dreaming of a time years ago when her parents were with her, and she was a carefree little princess. In her dreams, she laughed sweetly, swirling her puffy dress.
“Prince Julian, will you marry me when I grow up?” she asked in her dream, her voice sweet and youthful.
The handsome face of the boy in her dreams overlapped with Julian’s. Aurora awoke abruptly from her dream. She found herself covered with a thin blanket and a note left on the table, written flamboyantly.
“I have some urgent matters to attend to. Remember not to starve yourself. We’ll meet again soon.
Aurora picked up the note, crumpling it to throw away, but then she recalled the serious look in the boy’s eyes when he said he would marry her when she grew up. Instead of discarding the note, she slowly unfolded it, as if she could see him through the paper itself.
This boy had appeared and disappeared from her life. What kind of mark would he leave on her existence?