“I’ll go check on him,” Teresa muttered, grabbing her car keys and hurrying off. Christian had already informed her that Jonathan would be at the office, a hotel, or Luviston Estates.

Teresa drove quickly, feeling anxious. Her last visit to Luviston Estates had been to pick him up from a bar after he’d gotten drunk. “Didn’t he tell his family about the car accident?” she wondered. Edward or Donald would have told her otherwise.

The house code was her birthday. She punched in the numbers, and the door beeped open. “Jonathan!” she called from the entrance, but received no reply. Is he even here? she wondered.

Teresa continued inside. The dressing room door was ajar, and she heard rustling. Jonathan was putting on a shirt. From her angle, she could see his broad shoulders and the faint outline of his abs.

She was momentarily stunned, her expression blank.

“Perfect timing. Give me a hand,” he said.

Teresa pursed her lips and stepped forward to help him with his sleeve, noticing his right arm was heavily bandaged. It looked quite uncomfortable.

“Why aren’t you surprised I’m here?” Teresa asked.

“Christian called me,” Jonathan replied.

“Oh,” Teresa said. As expected of his efficient secretary, she thought.

Her movements slowed as she carefully helped him with his shirt. This was her first time seeing him injured, and she frowned. “Does it hurt?”

Jonathan sucked in a breath. “A little. Help me with the buttons; I can’t do it one-handed.”

Teresa nodded and bent down to button his shirt. He smelled pleasantly of sea salt. “Why didn’t you say anything after the accident?” she asked.

Jonathan sighed. “What’s there to say about getting injured?”

Teresa straightened. “Everyone at home is really worried about you.”

“Mm.” He smiled faintly. “I went to the opening ceremony. You looked impressive and beautiful.”

“I’ll accept the compliment,” she replied.

Looking around the quiet house, Teresa asked if he’d eaten. When he said no, she rolled up her sleeves and sighed. “What do you want to eat?”

Jonathan was taken aback. “You’re cooking?”

“Duh,” she replied. Aren’t I taking care of a patient? It’s not every day I show this much compassion, she mused.

Jonathan’s face turned serious. “Forget it. I’m afraid you’ll burn my kitchen down.”

Teresa promised, “I won’t. My cooking skills have improved over the past few years.” At the very least, she knew how to make gruel—she’d made it for Michael every morning, perfecting her technique. Besides gruel, she wanted to make a salad. She haphazardly chopped lettuce, sending leaves flying everywhere.

Jonathan couldn’t watch it anymore. “Move, I’ll do it.”

Even with one arm injured, his chopping and cooking skills were unaffected. Teresa watched in awe as he skillfully flipped the knife with one hand. His arm was strong, clearly defined, and with his sleeves rolled up, he had that…strong, husbandly vibe.

Ugh, Teresa shook her head. Am I crazy? Why am I feeling something watching a man cook?

Jonathan said, “Plate it.”

“Okay…” Teresa quickly grabbed a plate.

They settled for a simple meal of gruel and a side dish. It had been too long since they’d eaten face-to-face, especially in their marital home. The feeling was subtle, almost as if they’d returned to their simple married life, except now he was the wealthiest CEO in Nareigh.

Teresa watched Jonathan eat the gruel. “How is it? Is it good?”

“Not bad. You’ve improved.” Jonathan raised an eyebrow, his eyes reflecting a hint of satisfaction.

Teresa smirked. “I told you my cooking skills have improved.”

Jonathan teased, “Besides making gruel, what else can you make? Hmm? Is this what you call ‘improved’?”

Teresa became speechless. She decided to let it go, considering his injury. As they ate, Jonathan’s phone rang several times. Teresa saw it was Edward, and Jonathan answered immediately.

“Yeah, it’s not serious. Teresa’s taking care of me. No need to visit. Okay then.” He hung up.

The next moment, Donald called.

Jonathan stared at Teresa and smirked. “No need to come over. Teresa’s taking care of me. It’s just a minor injury, nothing serious.” He hung up.

Soon, Cheryl also called. All his cousins reached out to check on him. Jonathan repeated that they didn’t need to come, that Teresa was looking after him, and that he was fine.

Teresa envied Jonathan for having so many caring cousins. She used to have an older biological sister who went missing when Teresa was three and never returned.

She asked, “We’re divorced. Why are you casually mentioning me as if I’m still their sister-in-law?”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “What else should I say? ‘Your former sister-in-law Teresa is taking care of me’? Doesn’t that sound awkward?”

Teresa was speechless.

The phone rang again, this time Teresa’s. It was Sherry. Teresa wiped her mouth, told Jonathan that Sherry was her colleague and roommate, and stood to answer.

Sherry asked, “Where are you? When are you coming back? Are you having dinner here?”

Teresa answered, “I’m heading back now.”

Jonathan suddenly frowned and moved his right arm. “My shoulder hurts. Help me change the bandage later; I can’t reach it myself.”

Teresa saw him frowning in pain. She helped Jonathan slowly remove his loungewear, noticing a large bruise on his shoulder. Just seeing it made her wince. Who’d bump into others so recklessly on a motorcycle? she wondered.

“How are you going to sleep tonight? You’ll need to lie on your side.” Teresa put some medicated cream on her hand and gently applied it to his shoulder.

“Yeah. Why don’t you stay the night?” Jonathan took the chance to hold her hand. “I have a hard time even washing my hands now.”