Chapter 125 "When he heard you were coming, he was so pleased he told me to prepare extra dishes just for you." Agatha's cheerful voice faltered as she stepped inside and saw the room empty. She glanced toward the yard and noticed the car was gone too. 'The little brat slipped away while I went to fetch our guest!' she thought indignantly. Agatha flushed with anger and embarrassment and turned to Sydney apologetically. "My grandson..." Sydney smiled lightly, reassuring her, "It's a workday. If something urgent came up, it's normal for him to leave.
Don't be upset." In truth, she felt relieved. Her gaze swept over the table laden with dishes, and she praised warmly, "So it turns out you're not only good at muffins. Your cooking's incredible too." Sweet-and-sour carp, slow-cooked lamb, garlic abalone-each dish was perfectly prepared, fragrant, and colorful. Her appetite stirred instantly. Agatha watched as Sydney's pride softened. Cursing her wayward grandson silently, she opened a drink for Sydney. "Go on, try them. See if they suit your taste." With no third person present, Sydney relaxed.
"Okay." Not wanting to disappoint Agatha, she ate until she was full. By the end, barely anything remained on the table. The food had truly been delicious, and most of the dishes were her favorites. Agatha chuckled. "If you enjoy my cooking, come often. I usually live alone, so you're welcome anytime." "You live by yourself?" Sydney asked, a little surprised. Agatha sighed. "He's busy with his own affairs. When he has time, he drops by for a moment." Sydney smiled softly. "Then I'll visit more often." She was often alone herself.
Alan and Eliana always welcomed her, but she worried about intruding on their quiet, loving time together. She rarely went unless invited. Agatha's eyes crinkled with joy. "Really?" "Really." After the meal, Sydney offered to wash the dishes, but Agatha refused, tugging her into the living room for tea instead. It was already past three when Sydney got a call from the dry cleaners. That finally prompted her to leave. Julian's suit jacket had been cleaned and was ready.
That night, he had uncharacteristically stood up for her, and she, foolishly, had said "let it go." He must hate her even more now. He would probably find the jacket she had worn disgusting. But it was not hers to decide. Picking it up, she hesitated before messaging Elliot. Sydney: [Hey, Elliot. When would Mr. Sterling be available? I can bring the suit over later.] Most likely, the reply would be to toss it in the trash. Conveniently, her car was parked next to a dumpster. She could roll down the window and drop it straight in once he responded.