Sophie Smith went to the supermarket to buy a lot of cooking ingredients. Oliver Johnson stood next to her, occasionally picking up a few items wanting to put them in the shopping cart, but she took them out instead.
"This chili is too spicy; a different kind would taste better."
After Sophie said that, she seemed to realize something and quickly raised her head.
"I’m sorry, Mr. Johnson, I was just thinking about my own tastes. You should buy whatever you like to eat."
Her tone was like comforting a child.
"Buy whatever you know how to make."
Sophie hurriedly tossed the few items he picked into the shopping cart again.
Sophie took out her keys from her bag and opened the door. Inside, it was clean as she had asked the cleaning service to tidy it up earlier.
She placed the groceries in the kitchen, tied her long hair at the back, put on an apron, and began to get busy.
Oliver Johnson leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching her bustle around. Her movements were not very skilled, but she was exceptionally earnest.
When she turned around and saw him watching her, she felt a bit embarrassed.
"Mr. Johnson, go sit on the sofa; there’s oil smoke here." ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ noⅴelfire.net
"Am I that precious?" he said nonchalantly, "By the way, I also have a specialty dish I’d like to make for you to try."
Without asking too much of her opinion, he directly walked into the kitchen, which seemed suitable for her before, but now felt a bit cramped, and a careless turn could make them bump into each other.
Oliver Johnson’s specialty dish was a French red wine steak. Sophie watched his skilled knife work and couldn’t help but admire inwardly. His knife work was very even as he sliced the beef into one-centimeter thick pieces, placing them evenly on a plate, ready to marinate.
Sophie also got interested, eagerly asking him about the steak preparation, and he patiently explained everything to her.
"Mr. Johnson, you’re really nice," Sophie couldn’t help but say.
"Nice? Does a man like me who can handle both the living room and the kitchen move your heart a little?"
"Just kidding." Noticing her expression change suddenly, he curved his lips, trying to ease the awkwardness.
"Um, Mr. Johnson, my dad makes those kinds of jokes sometimes; please don’t mind and take what he says to heart," Sophie thought to herself that Christopher Smith must have often said some inappropriate things in front of Oliver Johnson, causing this misunderstanding.
"Actually, I don’t mind these things." He paused, looking into her eyes. Sophie felt nervous from his gaze, her eyes instinctively dodging.
"If you had a chance to leave Asher Land, would you take it?"
He knew there must be hidden secrets between her and Asher Land. She didn’t seem to be staying by his side willingly.
Sophie found it strange, why suddenly ask this?
He wouldn’t let her go easily; she knew how domineering his personality was.
"Mr. Johnson, I, I haven’t really thought about it yet."
"Haven’t thought about leaving him?" his voice sounded like he was asking her, or perhaps asking himself.
Maybe he misunderstood her feelings for Asher Land. If that’s the case, he had some idea of what to do next.
But that wasn’t his initial intention.
Much later, he realized that if Sophie had been willing to give him a definite answer, willing to leave Asher Land, things wouldn’t have ended up in a way no one wanted to see.