Fiction Made Me His Wife (Freya and Louis) novel Chapter 300

Chapter 300 Warmth Is a Choice

Waylon choked for a second–this girl really didn’t follow the usual script.

“I’m done eating.”

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He peeked over and, sure enough, Jasmine’s bowl was already empty. Wait, what? It hadn’t even been that long. “You in a hurry or something?”

“I’ve got something to do today. Need to head out. Just leave your dishes in the sink when you’re done–I’ll wash them when I get back,” she said casually, picking up her bowls and heading into the kitchen, not offering another word.

Waylon looked at his own half–full bowl of cereal and frowned. What kind of rush was this?

“Where you going? If it’s on my way, I’ll give you a ride.” After all, she’d cooked–he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.

“No need. You’re probably busy.”

“I’m really not. Nothing urgent this morning. Grandpa specifically told me to take good care of you, and I haven’t done much so far. Let me play host at least once,” Waylon insisted.

“Seriously, it’s fine. I’m just taking the 69 bus. It’s a straight shot.”

Hearing that, Waylon paused, then lowered his head and smirked, voice light, “Then at least let me walk you down and see you off. Won’t take but a minute.”

With that said, Jasmine couldn’t refuse again. She gave a polite nod.

Waylon immediately picked up the pace, finishing his meal in record time and tossing the dishes in the kitchen before hopping off to grab a jacket.

the a

By the time he emerged, Jasmine was already at the door, holding a small black box and waiting quietly.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Ahem.

They took the elevator down together. Waylon couldn’t hold back his curiosity but didn’t want to ask directly. So he said vaguely, “When will you be back? If it’s late, I can come pick you up.”

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Chapter 300 Warmth Is a Choice

“No need. It shouldn’t take long,” Jasmine said again, politely but firmly.

Well. That scaled it. She wasn’t just not interested–she was actively avoiding him.

Waylon stepped just slightly ahead of her so she wouldn’t see the eye roll he gave. Was he some kind of walking plague?

They exited the elevator and headed toward the bus stop. Along the way, they couldn’t go more than a few feet without someone calling out to Waylon. Elderly folks out for morning walks, toddlers heading to kindergarten, even aunties fresh from the market–they all greeted him with joy. One lady even insisted on handing him two apples.

“Waylon, is this your girlfriend?” a middle–aged woman with a baby in her arms asked when they reached the stop.

“Of course not. I’m not that lucky. This is my little sister Jasmine,” Waylon said cheerfully, then leaned over to make the baby giggle. The little one babbled happily back at him.

Jasmine realized just how well–liked this Walker brother was. And honestly, wasn’t it unusual? Most men his age and wealth weren’t exactly chatty with the public. Yet here he was, living not in a mansion, but in a luxury apartment with a bustling, lively neighborhood.

“Your sister’s a real beauty,” the woman gushed. “Does she have a boyfriend yet? If not, I’ve got someone to introduce–my cousin’s son. Really outstanding! Okay, maybe not quite this outstanding,” she said, patting Waylon’s arm, “but he studied overseas and everything. I only recommend him ‘cause I like you!”

“Then I’m sure he’s top–tier,” Waylon replied with a grin, playing along. Then he suddenly pointed, “Hey ma’am, isn’t that your bus?”

“Oh my goodness, you’re right! My eyes are useless now–I didn’t even see it. Good thing you young folks have sharp vision. I’ve got to go! Gotta take my granddaughter in for her vaccinations today,” she said, waving as she hurried to board. “I’ll bake you some cookies soon and bring you a batch!”

“Take your time, ma’am. Hold onto her tight.” Waylon even jogged over to hand her the little carrier she’d forgotten.

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