Chapter 149


    What’s with her friendly overture? Is there a difference between being kind and outright flirting?


    What is this woman up to?


    Tarquin returned home, his mind a tangled web of confusion. He opened the thermos and was greeted


    by an inviting aroma.


    Inside, she had prepared two side dishes, a fluffy omelet, six delicate pastries, and a serving of mixed


    fruitpote.


    The sides were fresh and vibrant, the omelet a perfect golden brown, the pastries tender and pale, and


    thepote sweet and sticky….


    It looked downright appetizing.


    Tarquin hesitated for a moment, but then decided to sample each dish a personal poison test of sorts.


    No poison detected, but his appetite certainly was. Before he knew it, he had polished off most of the


    meal.


    If he hadn’t pulled the brakes in time, he might have devoured Elijah’s share too.


    ncing at the clock, it wasn’t even 6 AM yet. Tarquin carefully packed the remaining breakfast back


    into the thermos and retreated to his bedroom.


    Sleep was now a distant dream.


    Hey on his back, hands sped behind his head, staring at the ceiling in a daze.


    All he could think about was Elysia.


    He couldn’t help but wonder what she was up to.


    At 6:30 AM sharp, Elijah got up, ready to start his day with his usual grooming routine.


    Tarquin had already set the remaining breakfast on the dining table, waiting for Elijah to finish up so he


    could invite him to eat.


    Elijah looked at the spread on the table, then at Tarquin, his gaze inquisitive.


    His breakfasts were usually made with expensive ingredients, a variety ofvish dishes. By


    comparison, today’s meal looked modest, which had never graced Elijah’s table before.


    Tarquin knew what Elijah was wondering and exined, “I made it.”


    Elijah was skeptical, “You’ve never made these before.”


    “It’s because I’ve never made them that I wanted to give it a try, to see if you’d like the taste,” Tarquin


    said, picking up a pastry and cing it on Elijah’s te.


    “Try it, see if it suits your taste.”


    Without overthinking, Elijah eyed the pastry for a moment, took a bite, and chewed thoughtfully.


    Tarquin sat across from him, watching intently.


    After a while, Elijah uttered two words, “It’s good.”


    Tarquin’s eyes flickered with unbidden joy, and a weight lifted from his heart.


    “Good to hear. Have some more, these are also for you, and try the omelet,” he said with a smile.


    Elijah said nothing more, just quietly ate his breakfast.


    Watching him clean his te, Tarquin was deeply touched. His son was finally eating well!


    But then, unexpectedly, “Is there more?”


    Elijah looked up at him, eyes full of hope.


    Tarquin was taken aback, “Hmm?”


    “I’m not full. I’d like some more,” said Elijah!


    If Tarquin had truly been the cook, he would have dashed into the kitchen by now. Nothing pleased him


    more than to see his son enjoying his food; he’d even cook in the middle of the night if asked.


    But the truth was, he hadn’t made the breakfast, and he couldn’t replicate it.


    Even if he tried, the taste would surely not match Elysia’s handiwork.


    All he could say was, “Not now, kiddo. Daddy’s got some urgent business. I’ll make some more for you


    later.”


    A shadow of disappointment crossed Elijah’s face. He didn’t speak, just got up to wash his hands and


    returned to his room.


    Tarquin’s emotions were aplex mix, both ted and regretful.