?Chapter 1080:


    Acknowledging him with a nod, Maxwell shifted his eyes toward Chris briefly. What the owner said was true. The fireworks disy Maxwell and Chris had once prepared for Maia’s birthday had gone down in local memory asvish, dazzling, and nearly unmatched in Wront’s history.


    Chris kept his thoughts to himself, though Maia’s face surfaced in his mind. Guided by the owner, the two of them were soon led to a booth right beside the wide ss window.


    From that spot, the river stretched endlessly before them, the view unmatched by any other seat in the ce.


    Not long after, Maia entered Anita Restaurant with her group in tow. The doorman stepped forward with a courteous smile. “Dr. Walsh, please follow me. Your private room is ready—second door on the left, the one named ‘Flowing Brook.''”


    Carsen gave a small nod, then turned to check on Maia walking behind him. “How are you holding up? Do you need another piece of candy?”


    During the drive over, he had seen Maia drift off to sleep, and that alone told him the single candy she’d eaten hadn’t been enough to raise her blood sugar.


    “I’m doing better now,” Maia answered.


    Across the dining hall, Chris sat near the wide window, his eyes fixed on the river before he suddenly twisted in his seat. His attention shifted toward the entrance, and a faint crease formed on his brow.<fn865b> The source of th?s content is F?ndNovel</fn865b>


    “What’s wrong, Mr. Cooper?” Maxwell asked, following his line of sight, but found nothing unusual by the doorway.


    By then, the doorman was already guiding a middle-aged couple to their table.


    “It’s nothing,” Chris muttered, lowering his gaze as he fished out his phone.


    Still, no message from Maia appeared on the screen. For a brief moment, he wondered if he had only imagined his wife’s voice echoing in his head. That thought pushed him to finally type out a message for Maia.


    Inside the private room called “Flowing Brook,” the surgical assistants, anesthetist, and nurses were already waiting. Carsen scanned the group before speaking. “Thank you all for your effort today. Since we still have two more surgeries tomorrow, I won’t drag this out with a long speech. Let’s eat quickly and get some rest. Don’t stay upte tonight.”


    “Yes, Dr. Walsh!” the group answered together, their voices rising as one.


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    To Maia, Carsen remained a fascinating puzzle. His tone often sounded detached, yet his gestures revealed a quiet thoughtfulness.


    Soon, Anita Restaurant’s most signature dish arrived at the table. The rich scent of roasted wagyu beef instantly stirred everyone’s appetite. Even though Maia felt hunger gnawing at her, she held herself with grace, refusing to abandon her manners. Meanwhile, the rest of the group dug into their tes with enthusiasm, unbothered by appearances.


    “You don’t need to be overly formal. Skipping food won’t help you,” Carsen said as he slid a te of wagyu in front of her. “With your low blood sugar, you should take a few bites right away.”


    One of the doctors joined in with augh. “That’s right! If you don’t start eating now, the food will disappear fast. Surely you wouldn’t want to miss such delicious food.”


    Encouraged by the yful atmosphere, Maia finally gave in and began tasting the tender slices of wagyu. The meat turned out to be extraordinary, seared to just the right degree. Every bite released rich juices andyers of vor that lingered on her tongue. Noticing her enjoyment, Carsen called for the server and asked that wagyu be served to everyone at the table.


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