Chapter 18 The Departure
Alva returned back to the apartment. She was surprised to see Jackson.
Upon seeing the door open, Jackson approached her. “You’re back.”
Alva noticed the apron he was wearing. “What’s this for?”
“Oh, you haven’t tasted the food I cooked yet. You can try it later and see how it tastes,” he replied.
Alva looked towards the kitchen, catching a whiff of the delicious aroma. Her gaze lowered, and she spoke, “Okay.”
Half an hour later, the meal was served, and the colours and presentation were excellent.
The taste couldn’t possibly be bad.
Jackson placed a piece of sweet and sour spareribs into her bowl. “The weather is humid, have some sour and sweet dishes to stimulate your appetite.”
Alva picked it up and took a bite.
Jackson nervously looked at her, “How is it?”
“It’s delicious.”
“Really?” His eyes lit up.
Alva replied earnestly, “Really.”
“Great! have some more then.”
Jackson kept serving Alva more dishes, and she finished them all. Jackson was very happy.
After dinner, Alva proceeded to clean up the table, but Jackson stopped her. “You can’t touch cold water, I’ll do it.”
“I can use hot water instead.”
“Nope. Although I’m a man, I believe I can handle these easy tasks too. Sit down whilst I do the cleaning.”
Alva knew she couldn’t resist him, she sat on the sofa and watched his busy figure in the kitchen.
Initially, she thought she was lucky to have met such a good person, even could take care of her.
But now, she doesn’t feel the same way.
No one would unconditionally treat someone well, especially someone as outstanding as him.
Jackson likes her.
She didn’t believe it, but she had to accept this fact.
Jackson finished cleaning and sat next to her. “How are you feeling? Are you used to living here?”
“Yes. I’m getting used to it,” Alva replied.
Looking at him, she said, “Jackson, I’m leaving.”
A frozen smile appeared on Jackson’s face, then disappeared.
“You haven’t fully recovered yet. Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Home?” Jackson suddenly remembered that she still had a home.
Jackson nodded his head and said, “Where do you stay? I’ll send you home.”
“You don’t need to. I’ll go by myself. Give me your bank account number, and I’ll repay you once I start working.”
Jackson felt that Alva was starting to distance herself from him. He crossed his hands and clenched them tightly before finally asking, “Do you really have to leave?”
“Yes.”
“When are you leaving?”
“I have a flight at 3 o’clock in the afternoon.”
In the afternoon, Alva boarded the plane back to H city, while Jackson stood at the airport, gazing ahead, his hands tightly clenched.
Two years later.
Daven, 35th floor, Fashion Design Department.
Alva casually tied up her long hair with a pencil and held another pencil in her hand, drawing on a piece of paper.
She was drawing with seriousness and concentration, her hair falling in front of her ears unnoticed.
Suddenly, a Louis appeared in front of her, tickling her nose.
Alva’s nose itches, and she sneezes.
“Oh my God! Alva you’re trampling on my good means!” Frank said with exaggerated expressions.
Rubbing her nose, Alva looked at him helplessly. “Frank, I’m very busy.”
Frank, a mixed-race man with an Asian face and blue Western eyes, was affectionate and passionate.
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