Book7 Chapter7.
When I walked in, I was surprised by the smell of food.
The dishes on the table were a mess, clearly Xavier's handiwork.
As a top art student and a somewhat famous painter, Xavier never touched housework.
I did all the cleaning, and he never cooked.
In all our years together, he rarely set foot in the kitchen.
At most, he boiled water when I wasn't around. I even made his instant noodles.
Seeing me, Xavier came out of the kitchen, wearing an apron.
"Hungry? Try my cooking. It's my first time, so don't mind if it's not great."
In the past, if this artist, this talented man, had made me a bowl of noodles, I would have cried tears of joy.
But now, I felt nothing.
I sat down at the table.
"What do you want to talk about?"
Xavier sat across from me, clearing his throat.
"Ariella, I've been thinking about our relationship lately, and I think we..."
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