?Chapter 1551:


    Ste took a long moment to steady herself before stepping forward and setting the lunch box at the edge of his desk. She kept her voice even. “You have seemed very busytely, so I made something simple and brought it here for you.”


    William’s eyes moved from her face to the lunch box, lingered there, then lifted again to her faintly flushed cheeks. The words meant to send her away hovered on his tongue — but the moment he met her clear gaze, he stopped himself. The way she stood so carefully, her nerves barely concealed, felt like a light brush against his chest.


    He knew she hade because of the golden retriever he had bought for her. Otherwise, she would never have been the one to reach out first. Perhaps she wanted something else from him now. Still, this was the first time she hade here just to bring him homemade food — and even before losing her memory, she had rarely done that.


    An unfamiliar feeling surfaced, leaving him unsure how to respond.


    He watched her in silence. Unable to read his thoughts, she stood there, her unease growing by the second. As the quiet stretched on, her heart slowly sank, certain he was about to say something sharp. Just as she prepared to apologize and turn away, William finally spoke, his voice lower and less cutting than usual. “Leave it there.”


    Only three words. There was no warmth in them — yet there was no rejection either.


    Her heart skipped. A small spark of happiness slipped quietly into her chest.


    She lifted the lid and set out the warm dishes one by one, her voice soft. “You should eat while it is still warm. Cold food is not good for your stomach.”


    The scent of the food spread through the office, carrying with it an unexpected sense offort. William looked at the dishesid before him, a quiet hunger stirring. Ste stood beside the desk, twisting the hem of her clothes without realizing it. She did not dare meet his eyes, yet a faint hope lingered as she waited to see if he would eat.


    William set his pen aside and leaned back slightly, his gaze settling on her. “You made all of this yourself?”


    She nodded, her voice soft and uncertain. “I am not sure if it suits your taste. If it is not good, you do not have to eat it. I just somehow felt…”


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    She stopped mid-sentence, a flicker of panic crossing her eyes. While cooking, she had felt — without knowing why — that he would like these particr dishes. But where had that certaintye from? It felt as though those preferences had been buried deep inside her, suddenly rising to the surface and leaving her unsettled.


    He did not question her further. He picked up a small piece of fish. The meat was tender and cooked just right, lightly seasoned with lemon, garlic, and a touch of rosemary — clean and fresh on his tongue. He tasted the shrimp and vegetables next: crisp and firm, each bite just as satisfying. So satisfying, in fact, that even the dull ache lingering at his temples eased slightly.


    Jewell had prescribed medication for him before, but he rarely took it. Later, after she had brought him candy, he had remembered it now and then. The results had been minimal, and Jewell had said it needed time to work. Yet the relief he felt now, after eating her food, surpassed all of that. The realization caught him off guard — almost hard to believe.


    Still, he said nothing and continued eating quietly, his movements smooth and unhurried.


    Ste stood nearby, watching as the rising steam softened the sharp lines of his profile. Her heartbeat slipped out of rhythm without warning. The office was silent except for the faint sound of cutlery. Aware of her own racing pulse, she forced herself to look away.


    Was she really feeling shy simply from watching him eat? Her thoughts only grew more tangled.


    After a few bites, he looked up suddenly and asked in a low voice, “Have you eaten?”


    Ste had not expected that. She paused, then shook her head. “I — I will eat when I get back.”


    She had spent the entire morning cooking, too worried about missing his lunch break to eat anything herself.


    William pressed his lips together. His eyes shifted to the chair across from the desk, and his voice stayed even, carrying quiet authority. “Sit.”


    She did not dare refuse. She sat down obediently, hands resting on her knees like a well-behaved student.


    He slid the untouched dishes toward her. “I will ask Luca to bring clean tableware.”


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