Fiction Made Me His Wife (Freya and Louis) novel Chapter 194

Chapter 194 Glass Walls and Passive Snack Envy

Chapter 194 Glass Walls and Passive Snack Envy

“Your mom taught you how to cook?” Freya asked, clearly surprised. “Didn’t your family have a chef?”

“Yeah, we did–but that didn’t stop her from teaching me. That was when I was a kid, though.”

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That reminded Freya–Louis had lived with his grandfather from a young age. She didn’t dare ask what happened to his parents, but figured they were likely gone; otherwise, they’d have shown up at some point.

“Hmm, your knife skills are pretty solid,” Freya said, steering the conversation elsewhere.

“I practiced on my own. My parents never paid much attention to me. The first time I cooked was because I wanted potatoes and they wouldn’t make any for me. I got so mad I cooked them myself, but it came out totally inedible. I had to add instant noodle seasoning just to make it bearable. Not that it mattered, my parents refused to taste even a bite. No concern at all for a little girl’s emotional well–being”

That little anecdote triggered a flood of childhood memories, and before she knew it, Freya couldn’t stop.

“Honestly, it makes total sense I turned out a tomboy, Back when I was this soft, adorable little girl, my parents treated me like a boy. Other girls played with dolls and tea sets–me? They gave me remote–controlled cars and action figures. And if some boy picked a fight with me? My dad didn’t step in–instead, he cheered me on from the sidelines, telling me to fight back. So yeah… I grew up all crooked and ended up like this.”

Freya sounded deeply indignant. She had been so cute as a kid, but her parents never saw it.

“I just don’t get it–when I was little, I was adorable. So what if I skipped my homework once or twice because I got distracted. playing My mom wouldn’t go easy on me–she’d tear up my assignments without a second thought. And for what? I didn’t even turn out that bad! All those beatings I took for nothing–tragic.”

She chirped on and on about her childhood grievances while Louis continued mincing the meat. Every now and then, he’d glance over at her; in that moment, Freya radiated a kind of cozy warmth. She was like the version of herself she was describing–soft, sweet, and painfully cute.

Louis suddenly pictured those fluffy bunny onesies he’d occasionally seen girls wear. If Freya wore one of those with little ears on the hood–man, she’d be so ridiculously cute.

By the time Louis finished with the meat, Freya had just about wrapped up her egg stir–fry. He wanted to help with something else too, but she was clearly in the zone and didn’t have time to spare him. So he stepped outside the kitchen and leaned casually against the doorframe, just watching her work

When Freya turned around, she found Louis still standing there.

“What is it? Something else you need?”

“Not really. Just observing.”

Alright, suit yourself Freya didn’t think cooking was anything worth hiding. If he wanted to watch, let him. So she kept busy, and before she knew it, over an hour had passed. The tacos were done, and her cake was ready to go in the oven. She had. completely forgotten Louis was even there.

“All done?” Louis’s voice made her jump. “You’re seriously still watching?”

He’d stood there for over an hour watching her cook. No wonder he’s a big shot, he really goes all in for his business ideas.

“You’re pretty good at this. And yeal, you really are fast,” Louis said, complimenting her with an easy nod. Her movements were quick and confident, and her knife skills were no joke–she had every right to be proud.

“Of course I am.” Freya held her head high. “You’ll get to taste my dessert soon. I think it turned out great. But I was a bit short on time today–once I’m free again, I’ll make you my pudding. My friends always say I make the best pudding.”

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