Secret Admiration: Finding True Love After… Chapter 31 Same Last Name
Chandler’s deep, resonant voice broke through the quiet. “Are you awake?”
Meryl paused for a heartbeat, took a steadying breath, and walked over to open the door. When she did, she was met with the striking face of the man standing before her.
Chandler was dressed sharply in a classic white shirt and black slacks, his bowtie adding an air of elegance that took her breath away. He looked like he had stepped right out of a glossy magazine.
Their eyes locked, and Chandler swallowed, his gaze lingering on Meryl’s red lips. “Come out for breakfast.”
Meryl instinctively lowered her gaze, thinking, “He seems completely unfazed. So, he must not remember… our kiss last night? True, how many people actually remember their drunken escapades?”
A wave of relief washed over her as she followed Chandler into the dining area. The breakfast laid out was nothing fancy—a simple plate of spaghetti with eggs—but somehow, even the way he ate seemed to elevate the meal to a fine dining experience.
She mused, “There’s no staff in the house, so he must’ve made this himself. Here I am, sleeping on his turf, waking up later than him, and now he’s the one cooking for me. Isn’t that a bit presumptuous?”
“Um…” Meryl hesitated, looking up at him. “From now on, breakfast is on me.”
At her words, Chandler laid down his fork as if he had anticipated her next line. “In our home, that’s not necessary.”
“Our home?” Meryl’s heart skipped. Those three words sent a shiver of warmth through her, like a gentle breeze stirring the still waters of her thoughts.
She thought, “Could I really have a place to call home?”
“Eat up,” Chandler said, pushing the plate of meatballs toward her. His movement was casual yet confident. “I don’t want you to be too thin.”
Meryl bit her lip and nodded, still taken aback. She was indeed too thin—standing at 5.6 feet, she barely weighed 100 pounds.
Once they finished eating, she instinctively started to clear the table, but Chandler gently caught her arm. “You don’t need to bother with that. A maid will come later to tidy this up.”
“Then what do I need to do?”
“Put some meat on those bones,” Chandler replied.
Suddenly, a thought struck her like a lightning bolt. “Wait, I still don’t know your name.”
Chandler paused, fingers hovering over the buttons of his coat as he fastened the last one before turning back to her.
Their gazes locked, his large hand wrapping around her wrist as if he meant to pull her closer. Before Meryl could process what was happening, their fingers intertwined, his warmth enveloping her. Surprised, she lifted her eyes to meet his, only to find a smirk on his face.
“Chandler Aniston, your husband.”
The words struck her like a chord. She thought, “Aniston? The same last name as Dalton.” This name rang a bell, but she couldn’t quite place it. Just as she was trying to piece it together, Chandler leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her face, sending a delightful shiver down her spine.
“There’s no need to be all stiff around me. I mean, we kissed last night, remember? Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Aniston?”
Meryl felt a jolt as if a current had hit her. Her fingers instinctively clenched in response.
She thought, “Wait a second… Does he actually remember what happened last night? How can he act like it’s no big deal? What a confusing man!”
On the way to City Hall, Meryl was still wrapped in her thoughts. It wasn’t until they completed the paperwork and she held the marriage license in her hands that it fully registered. After what felt like ages, realization dawned on her—she was now, officially, Mrs. Aniston.
But, curiously, the groom wasn’t the Dalton of her daydreams but rather a complete stranger sharing the same last name.
Chandler’s intense gaze settled on her, those eyes searching hers. “You seem to be lost in thought about another man.”