Aimee returned to Hayden’s Mansion, but instead of heading straight to her room, she made her way to the kitchen. Riley was giving instructions to the chef for dinner preparations. When he noticed Aimee entering, he was momentarily surprised before asking, “Is there something specific you’d like to eat?”
“No, Riley. I want to personally cook soup for Mr. Hayden,” Aimee replied.
Riley was taken aback once again, but quickly put on a smile and promptly cleared a stove for Aimee. He said, “You can use this one. They’ll be thrilled when they find out.”
Aimee smiled, saying nothing more, and proceeded to wash her hands and start making soup. Unbeknownst to the Reads, Aimee had excellent culinary skills. During her childhood, she had accompanied her teacher on the mountain, who taught her various recipes. However, since returning to the Read family, she had never set foot in the kitchen again.
Even when she occasionally missed proper meals, Aimee refrained from going to the kitchen and instead settled for bread and biscuits. She didn’t want the Reads to know too much about her, nor did she want to provide them with an opportunity to mock her. Despite the challenges she faced, Aimee chose to remain silent.
Today, she decided to make soup for Patrick’s treatment. After being discovered by Patrick, she felt somewhat restrained. Consequently, Aimee planned to add something to the soup that would help Patrick fall into a deep sleep and prevent him from waking up regardless of the circumstances. However, she couldn’t reveal the medicinal ingredients to anyone, so she had to play the role of a caring wife.
Aimee swiftly cleaned the chicken and placed it in a casserole, commencing the soup preparation. The chefs and Riley were astonished by Aimee’s deft movements, with one of the chefs even remarking on her exceptional culinary skills. Aimee graciously accepted their compliments and took the opportunity to say to Riley, “Riley, from now on, whenever I finish work early, I’ll personally cook for Mr. Hayden. Please reserve this stove for me.”
Knowing that Patrick’s treatment would be a long process, Aimee didn’t want to cause unnecessary trouble. However, Patrick was becoming increasingly bothersome, compelling her to confront him with wit and bravery.
Naturally, Riley was pleased upon hearing this, viewing it as a positive sign for Aimee and Patrick’s relationship. He replied, “Don’t worry, I’ll arrange it. If you need any ingredients, just let me know in advance, and I’ll have them prepared.”
Riley had been surprised earlier when he saw Aimee carrying a large bag of items. Such a sight was unheard of in the Hayden family, as no one would personally visit supermarkets or grocery stores to buy ingredients.
Aimee thanked Riley but politely declined his offer, stating, “I don’t want to trouble you with that. I’ll go and buy them myself.”
She had certain ingredients that needed to remain hidden from others. If Riley were to prepare them for her in advance, it would expose her secret.
Riley didn’t insist and merely thought highly of Aimee. At least, in Patrick’s case, she showed great sincerity.
Aimee began cooking the soup at three o’clock and didn’t finish until nearly six o’clock. Throughout the process, the aroma permeated the air, causing everyone to involuntarily salivate. Even the chef, who had been hired by the Hayden family from a seven-star hotel at great expense, found it difficult to focus on his own dishes. He occasionally joined Aimee, sniffing the fragrant soup, perpetually intrigued by the secret recipe and its delightful aroma.
Amused by the chef’s curiosity, Aimee smiled and said, “It’ll be ready soon. You can try it.”
“Excellent! I can hardly resist the temptation,” the chef exclaimed.
Aimee closely monitored the casserole, keeping track of the timing. When the medicinal properties had fully infused the soup, she turned off the heat. Carefully, she poured the soup into a small crock intended for Patrick, while leaving the rest for everyone else to enjoy.
Camdyn had already arrived, drawn by the enticing scent. His gaze fixed upon the casserole, as if afraid that Aimee might overlook him.
Aimee had no choice but to pack the soup and set aside other dishes for Patrick on a dinner plate. She then said to Camdyn, “Grandpa, you go ahead and eat. I’ll take care of Mr. Hayden’s dinner first. You don’t need to wait for me.”
Aimee understood Camdyn well. No matter what time she returned, he always waited for her. However, she felt genuinely concerned about the elderly man’s health.
Camdyn wanted to wait for Aimee, but before he could say anything, she continued, “Grandpa, the soup needs to be consumed while it’s hot. If you don’t drink it quickly, it won’t taste as good later, even if reheated.”
Upon hearing this, Camdyn ceased his insistence.
He relented, saying, “Alright, you go take care of Pat first, and I’ll have the soup.”
Aimee smiled and carried the dinner plate to Patrick’s room.
Patrick’s bed had been raised, and he sat propped up against the headboard, lost in his thoughts. No one could decipher what was going through his mind.
When the door creaked open, he turned his gaze towards it, and upon seeing Aimee, a flicker of surprise flashed in Patrick’s eyes.
Typically, it would be Camdyn who joined him for dinner.
Patrick always made sure to take a bite when Camdyn was present, considering his mood.
However, Camdyn was nowhere to be found today, and Patrick’s immediate concern was whether something had happened to him.
In a deep voice, he asked, “Where’s Grandpa?”
“Having dinner,” Aimee replied casually, casting a bewildered glance at Patrick. Her eyes seemed to say, “What else would he be doing at this time?”
Patrick found it even stranger. Since his accident, Camdyn would only eat peacefully after ensuring that Patrick had finished his meal.
Otherwise, Camdyn couldn’t bring himself to eat either.
While Patrick was glad that Camdyn wasn’t affected by him today, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was amiss.
This uneasiness stemmed from his wife, naturally.
“What did you say to Grandpa?” he inquired.
Aimee gave him a peculiar look, wondering if he had developed some sort of persecution complex.
“What could I possibly say to Grandpa?” she retorted.
Patrick insisted, “You must have said something.”
Aimee pondered for a moment and replied, “I simply told him that the soup wouldn’t taste as good when it’s cold, so he went to have his soup.”
She intentionally shot Patrick a provoking glance, almost saying it outright: You, as a grandson, are less important than a bowl of soup.
Patrick couldn’t help but chuckle at Aimee’s demeanor.
He remarked, “Well, you certainly have quite an influence.”
Patrick wanted to applaud Aimee for successfully putting Grandpa’s mind at ease and making sure he prioritized his own well-being.
Aimee smiled innocently and said, “Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Hayden.”
She pulled the table closer, placing the tray on it, and the first item she opened was the clay pot.
“Give it a try. Grandpa’s having the soup. It’s absolutely delicious,” Aimee urged.
She spooned a mouthful of soup and gently fed it to Patrick’s lips, a hint of smugness on her face.
Patrick gave her a profound look, then opened his mouth and savored the soup.
Indeed, as Aimee had claimed, the soup was truly exceptional.
It possessed a distinct flavor unlike any other soup he had tasted before. It wasn’t peculiar; on the contrary, it provided a comforting sensation to the body.
Patrick even felt a warm current coursing through him.
He was certain that none of the family’s cooks could whip up a soup like this.
With that, Patrick locked his gaze on Aimee and questioned, “Did you make this soup?”