Chapter 2

When they arrived home, Scarlet flung open the door, exclaiming, "Oh, my precious son, you're finally back! I missed you so much! Let me have a good look at you!" Kolby patted Drew's shoulder, his expression curious.

Drew entered, feeling uneasy. He gestured to me outside and said, "Mom, Dad, this is Penelope, the one I told you about."

The elderly couple eyed me coldly. "So you're Penelope," Kolby said. "Come in, don't just stand there."

I offered a strained smile, entered, put down my bag, changed my shoes, and attempted to sit. Drew pulled me up sharply. Scarlet muttered, "So rude."

I realized my mistake—I should have let them sit first. Kolby and Scarlet settled Drew onto the sofa, and the family began chatting while I awkwardly stood.

After ten minutes, Kolby glanced at me and said to Scarlet, "Dear, it's past six. What's for dinner?"

Scarlet waved dismissively. "Whatever. Let her choose a few of her specialty dishes! Make a soup too; your dad and I have sensitive stomachs and always need soup before meals. Remember that for the future…"

I realized, with a jolt, that I was expected to cook. The thought was absurd. I had barely been allowed to sit, and now, they expected a meal?

"I can't cook," I said. "Let's go out or order takeout."

Scarlet exploded. "You can't cook? How do you two eat normally?"

Drew explained that he usually ate lunch in the cafeteria and ordered takeout or ate out for dinner, sometimes having a late-night snack after working overtime.

"How can you eat out every day?" Scarlet exclaimed. "It must cost a fortune! Drew, this is all your fault! A woman who can't cook? Earning over three thousand a month and still eating extravagantly? This isn't responsible or thrifty!"

Kolby agreed. "You spend all your money on food! How will you buy a house or car? How will you be filial to us? I don't understand why you'd choose someone like this…"

His criticism ignited my anger. "I earn money to improve my life, not to buy houses or cars for anyone!"

Drew, his face stern, sharply rebuked me. "Penelope! How dare you speak to my parents like that!"

His mix of timidity and fury left me speechless. He pulled me into the bedroom and pleaded, "Baby, my parents just arrived. Please be patient. You can't expect them to like you instantly. Treat them well, and they'll accept you."

I returned and attempted to explain my workload and lack of time for cooking, hoping for understanding. That evening, Drew took his parents out to eat, and I bought myself a bowl of wonton soup, tears streaming down my face, a mixture of anger and hurt.