Do You Still Love Me When We Meet Again? (Aubrey and Damon) novel Chapter 156

Chapter156

Aubrey went home first.

That evening, Aubrey found Mrs. Quins busy in the kitchen and walked in, politely asking “Mrs. Osten, could you wake

Mrs. Quinn asked with a smile, “Aubrey, what dishes would you like to learn to make

“Those that Damon loves, like stir–fried liver, shredded pork with sweet bean sauce, and dear stewed pork meatballs

“Of course, I can. We didn’t buy any liver today, but I can make the meatballs and shredded pork. How de–frages and song with them?”

“Sounds great.” Aubrey went over to wash her hands.

Mrs. Quinn took out the ingredients from the refrigerator, washing and chopping them

With all the ingredients prepped, Mrs. Quinn taught her step by step. Aubrey learned diligently. Those seemingly complex waps became in cla under Mrs. Quinn’s guidance.

While pan–frying the fish, the fishy smell rising from the pan instantly made Aubrey nauseous. She covered her mouth and ended coats for s

can.

She gagged a couple of times, but nothing came out. After catching her breath, she picked up the spatula again to continue frying the fain

As soon as she got close, she felt nauseous again.

Mrs. Quinn quickly took the spatula, frying the fish herself, and asked curiously, “Aubrey, are you pregnant?

Aubrey froze, staring at her in shock, her heart pounding in her chest. “No…no way, right?”

“Looks like it to me,” Mrs. Quinn said casually. “I’ve had two kids, and when I was pregnant, I was just like you. I usually love fish, but when I was pregnant, I couldn’t stand the smell of it. It made me gag.”

Aubrey swallowed hard, her heart feeling like it was being crushed, making it hard to breathe. She felt a chill run through her body from nerves, and a wave of anxiety washed over her.

She thought back and realized there was only one time they hadn’t used protection.

It was the day after her period ended, which she had thought should have been a safe time. How could she be pregnant?

She couldn’t let herself panic.

Mrs. Quinn must be mistaken.

‘Mrs. Quinn, could you make the fish soup?” Aubrey forced a stiff smile, trying to appear calm, but inside, she was a mess.

she left the kitchen and sat on the living room sofa, pulling out her phone and opening her period–tracking app.

She scrolled back through the past two months, studying them carefully, and noticed something strange.

Her periods were usually right on time, but last month, it had come almost two weeks early, lasted only two days, and was very light.

he typed her symptoms into a search engine, asking for possible explanations.

Aubrey nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the search results.

What she thought was her period coming early was actually ovulation spotting, often triggered by intense physical activity, like sex, around her fertile

vindow.

Aubrey felt like she’d been struck by lightning.

The one time they hadn’t used protection was, in fact, the fourth day of her ovulation.

she dropped her phone, deflating instantly.

Night fell.

The lights of Blackwood Crescent flickered on.

Damon’s car pulled into the driveway and into the garage.

Inside the vast living room, the lights blazed.

23:30

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Aubrey lay sprawled across the dining table, one arm extended, the other folded under her cheek. Her eyes were vacant and unfocused, saring blankly at the darkening sky outside the window.

She didn’t hear Damon come in.

Her mind was a blank, her heart pounded with anxiety, and she felt so lost she didn’t even have the courage to buy a pregnancy test.

“Bree,” Damon’s gentle voice washed over her, his warm hand caressing her back. He leaned down, gazing at her with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

Aubrey snapped out of her daze, quickly straightening up and forcing a smile, “No, I’m fine. You’re home from work?

“Mmm.” Thinking her depression might be acting up again, Damon sat in the chair next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her onto his lap.

“Just let me hold you for a sec.” Damon’s large hands clasped around her slender waist, pulling her in close, inhaling the fresh scent of her hair. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Aubrey lowered her eyes, her voice weary. “Nothing much, just waiting for you to come home for dinner. I was a little tired, so I laid down for a bit.”

“What were you doing that tired you out? Or are you just feeling tired for no reason?”

“I learned a few dishes from Mrs. Quinn.” Aubrey pointed to the dishes on the table. “I made the shredded pork in sweet bean sauce and the braised pork balls myself.”

Damon glanced at the dishes on the table, unable to resist kissing her fragrant cheek. “Amazing. Looks delicious. I’ll have to eat a couple of bowls of rice later.”

Aubrey smiled. “I didn’t cook that much rice.”

“No rice is fine too. I’ll just finish all the dishes you made.” Damon kissed her forehead again, then let go. “Well, let’s eat then.”

Aubrey got off his lap and returned to her chair next to him.

Damon ladled a bowl of fish soup and placed it in front of her.

Aubrey suddenly clamped her hand over her mouth, a wave of fishy odor assaulting her senses. Her stomach churned, and she fought desperately to keep her gorge from rising.

Damon noticed her gesture and immediately set down his spoon and bowl. He turned to her, his dark eyes filled with concern. “Tell me, what’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”

Aubrey took a deep breath and pushed the fish soup away from her.

Damon’s gaze followed her hand, utterly perplexed.

It was her favorite fish soup.

Now, she was acting as if it disgusted her?

“I can’t stand the smell of the fish,” Aubrey said. “It makes me want to throw up.”

Damon picked up the bowl, brought it close to his nose, and sniffed. “I don’t smell anything fishy!”

“I don’t want the fish soup.”

“Then don’t drink it.” Damon placed the soup in front of himself.

He picked up a meatball and put it in Aubrey’s bowl. “If you don’t want fish, have some meat.”

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