Chapter 39

When Christopher returned home with Cynthia, Melody was already busy in the kitchen. He walked in and leaned over to watch her surreptitiously take a piece of beef brisket. They were pressed close together.

Cynthia watched from the doorway, her teeth almost grinding in frustration. She couldn't shake the feeling that Christopher had been unusually close to Melody since her return.

"Mel, what are you cooking? It smells so good!" she said, smiling as she squeezed between them.

"Christopher, you're really something. Why did you make Mel cook as soon as she returned? It's like you treat her as a maid," Cynthia said, defending Melody.

Melody's gaze was cold, registering the sarcasm.

"Cooking is her duty," Christopher stated flatly.

"I think you're just saying that because you don't like my cooking. Mel, you must have felt bad eating my food while hospitalized for half a month," Cynthia said. "No. Your food is fine, but since Melody's back, it's her job. You should go change," he replied.

As they continued their conversation, flaunting their affection, Melody's annoyance grew. She swiftly scooped up some shrimp with the spatula; a large shrimp flew into the air. Christopher glanced sideways, quickly pulling Cynthia away to prevent her white dress from being splattered with oil.

"What are you doing?" he frowned.

"Sorry. The spatula's too light, and the kitchen's small. Could you both go somewhere else?" Melody said indifferently.

Christopher led Cynthia out, but their voices still reached Melody.

"Christopher, Mel didn't do this on purpose. It's really because of the spatula. Don't overthink it."

"Who knows? Keep your distance. Last time, she threw hot soup at you."

Melody curled her lips into a cold smile. They always managed to shift the blame.

Dinner was served. Christopher served the rice, helped Melody to her chair, and poured her a drink.

Across from them, Cynthia watched his attentive actions, then noticed he only poured a second drink for her. She feigned a pout and said, "I'm on my period, so I can't have anything cold. Christopher, could you make me some peppermint tea?"

He immediately went to make it.

Cynthia turned to Melody and flashed a provocative smile.

Melody pretended not to notice. That kind of man was only valuable in Cynthia's eyes; to her, Christopher was already worthless.

She went to the bathroom to wash her hands. Meanwhile, Cynthia secretly went to the kitchen and returned with a tiny packet of white powder.

Back at the table, she scooped a spoonful of braised brisket with tomatoes and smiled at Christopher. "Christopher, eat up. Mel specially made this for you." Christopher hadn't eaten yet. He first reminded her to avoid cold water and stay warm.

Cynthia was touched. "Christopher, you're such a nice guy. Mel is really lucky."

He pursed his lips, frowning. He had never said such things to Melody. He tilted his head, feeling strange, but Melody's expression remained indifferent, showing no signs of sadness or distress. Christopher stared at her, incredulous.

"It's too salty…" Cynthia suddenly spat out the food, frowning.

He quickly looked at her.

She apologized, "Sorry. I guess I like it lighter."

He removed some food from his bowl.

"But I tasted it earlier, and it was perfect," he said, then ate. However, he frowned a moment later and spat out the food. "Melody, what's going on? Did you add more salt?" he asked.

"Oh, no. The other dishes are also too salty," Cynthia added, continuing to taste the food.