Chapter 222

Sienna glanced at his expression, unsure of his meaning. Was he implying a breakup? Panic welled up. Josiah.

"Leave?" Josiah waved his hand wearily, shrouded in gloom. "Go! Before I have second thoughts, hurry away!"

Sienna stood frozen, utterly shocked.

"Go!" Josiah barked. Sienna flinched, her shoulders trembling at his booming voice. She furrowed her brow, then hesitantly turned to leave.

As her footsteps faded and the study door closed, Josiah's pupils contracted sharply. He rose and went to the liquor cabinet.

As the fiery alcohol burned its way down his throat, he wondered if anyone remembered it was his birthday. Maybe no one did. In the early years, Yvette would secretly give him gifts and wish him a happy birthday, but that had gradually faded.

Tonight, he had only wished to celebrate with the person he cherished. Even this modest wish had been denied. He believed Sienna had left because she was with him against her will.

It was late, and the darkness outside was intimidating. He worried she might encounter another reckless driver.

Josiah regretted his earlier decision—he shouldn't have sent her away at such an hour; he should have at least waited until dawn. He picked up his phone, intending to call her. He swiped the screen, then hesitated, canceling the call. Fear tugged at his mind. The study door knocked. Josiah looked up abruptly as Sienna stepped inside. She hadn't left.

Josiah stared at her, expressionless, secretly biting his lip. This was real.

"Hey," she said softly as she approached, her sigh audible. Sienna grasped his hand, gazing at him, her long eyelashes fluttering. Her voice, gentle and silky, flowed, "It's not wise to drink on an empty stomach. Are you hungry? Would you like some pasta?"

Josiah glanced at her arm around him, his throat tightening. She hadn't left, and she had made him pasta. Yet, he stubbornly retorted, "I don't like pasta."

Sienna was momentarily taken aback, a wave of frustration washing over her. Still, she had to appease him. "They're handmade! I made and rolled the dough myself; they're nothing like store-bought. Would you give them a try?"

Josiah raised an eyebrow, remaining noncommittal.

"Come on," Sienna said, taking his arm and tugging him outside. "We also have chicken soup; it's delicious."

Josiah said nothing, allowing himself to be led downstairs. On the dining table were two plates of pasta: one large, for him, and a smaller one, for her. She usually watched her figure and avoided eating late at night.

Josiah frowned. "You haven't eaten yet?"

Sienna nodded.

Josiah seized the chance, saying sarcastically, "Oh, so your roommate is so important, and you treat her so well, yet she couldn't even spare you a dinner!"

"I wasn't going to dinner with her," Sienna replied, handing him a fork. She ladled some broth and brought the spoon to his lips. "Drink some soup." Gazing at the spoon, Josiah hesitated before finally opening his mouth.

"Is it good?" Sienna's smile blossomed, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Josiah felt a tickle in his throat, nodding slightly. "Mmm."

"Have some pasta," she offered, holding it to his mouth. "I added an egg."

Unable to resist, he opened his lips.

Sienna's smile deepened, her eyes glimmering. "Is it tasty?"

Josiah nodded, noting the delightful texture—chewy and springy; indeed, it was delicious. Curiosity piqued, he murmured, "You made it yourself? How did you learn that?"

In the past, Sienna had been untouched by such labor in the Flynn family. It was a skill forced upon her during her years in Filraty. She said, "I learned with my grandma when I was young."

Josiah praised, "Your grandma is remarkable, raising you and teaching you so many skills." He gestured to her plate. "You should eat too. They'll be less tasty if they sit too long."

"Alright." For a moment, they sat in silence, each focused on their meal. Josiah ate quickly, yet his manners remained refined. The large portion of pasta was finished swiftly.

"Are you finished?" Sienna lifted her gaze.

"Mm," Josiah nodded, pulling out a napkin to wipe his mouth, leaning back in his chair.

Sienna asked, "Are you full? I made so little… Should I prepare something else for you?" She rose.

"Sit down and eat your food," Josiah grasped her wrist.

Sienna complied, remaining seated to finish her pasta, occasionally sipping soup. She sensed the weight of his gaze, and the atmosphere grew awkward.

He had told her to leave, and yet she remained, choosing to stay and appease him with a meal. Now that the pasta was finished, the core issue resurfaced. She wondered, Will he ask me to leave again? If he insists, what should I do?

"Sienna."

At the sound of her name, Sienna was startled and nervously tugged at her lips. "I haven't finished yet."

Josiah glanced at her food, noticing only a few spoonfuls of broth remained. It was clearly a fib. He looked out the window, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. "It's quite late…" he said seductively.

Sienna's heart raced, thinking he was preparing to send her away. She stood, gathering the dishes as if she hadn't heard his hint. "Yes, it is late. You should wash up and get some rest."

Josiah remained seated, narrowing his eyes as he watched her clear the table and carry the dishes to the kitchen. Soon after, he followed her inside. There, Sienna placed the dishes in the dishwasher and started searching for pods.

"Stop busying yourself," Josiah sighed, capturing her wrist, his brow slightly furrowed. "Do you realize what you're doing?"

"Hmm," Sienna responded, taken aback. "Washing the dishes?"

Josiah gazed deeply into her eyes. "You know what I mean." Taking a deep breath, he repeated, "Do you understand what you're doing? Hmm?"

Sienna bit her lip, nodding lightly. Josiah's eyes narrowed, his arms drawing her into an embrace as his other hand cradled her chin. "Kiss me. If you really know so well, kiss me right now!"

Chapter 223