Episode 150
From the kitchen, Elijah cast a brief glance her way before resuming his cleanup. He washed the pot thoroughly, boiled water, and began preparing the spaghetti with a deftness that belied his kitchen inexperience.
In Elizabeth's conventional view, a man cooking somehow diminished his masculinity. Yet Elijah effortlessly dismantled that stereotype. His shirt collar was undone just enough to reveal the contours of his chest muscles, his forearms smooth and defined, veins prominent on his skilled hands as he moved about the kitchen. There was an undeniable allure to his actions, a captivating sensuality. Watching him was unexpectedly gratifying; the sight a visual feast that seemed to nourish her soul.
Before long, Elijah set down two steaming plates of spaghetti on the dining table. "What are you still sitting there for? Go wash your hands and let's eat," he called, breaking her reverie.
"Oh." Elizabeth's thoughts shattered as she rose to wash her hands. It was a scene ripped from a normal married life, tinged with the bittersweet reality of their impending divorce.
Returning to the table, she confronted the intimacy of the small square, leaving little room for emotional distance. With a contemplative pause, she chose the chair opposite Elijah, sealing their proximity.
The dinner plates held meticulously arranged spaghetti, each topped with a perfectly cooked egg and generously drizzled with sauce. Elizabeth's plate, however, featured an extra dollop of her favorite—a silent acknowledgment of her preference.
Outwardly composed, Elizabeth's emotions churned as violently as the storm outside. Her only respite was the meal before her.
The rich, savory spaghetti proved a welcome distraction. She devoured it quickly, driven by hunger.
Elijah's eyes flickered with subtle pride as he noted her clean plate. He asked, "So, can I cook?"
"Hmm?" Elizabeth, caught off guard, blinked in confusion before understanding his reference to her earlier critique. Speechless, she silently marveled at his pettiness.