The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 142

On an early summer morning, The Foster Estate was draped in a faint, ethereal mist.

The pomegranate blossoms in the courtyard were in full bloom, their fiery red petals catching the dewdrops that sparkled in the rising sun. The nearby crabapple trees were already heavy with green fruit, bowing the branches. The crisp, melodic chirping of birds echoed from afar, making the world feel incredibly serene.

Garrison Foster came downstairs to find the dining room completely empty.

Sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the pristine white tablecloth. The silverware was arranged perfectly, yet there was no one in sight.

He was just about to turn and look for someone when the dining room doors swung open.

Quinn Foster walked in, carrying a heavy tray.

She was wearing a light apricot dress cinched at the waist, making her look elegant and slender. Her hair cascaded down her back with slight curls at the ends, and her light makeup highlighted the unmistakable smile in her eyes.

The tray held a lavish breakfast. A steaming bowl of oatmeal topped with brown sugar, accompanied by beautifully plated sides—crispy hash browns, fresh fruit, and a small serving of perfectly scrambled eggs. In the center was a plate of golden pancakes, decorated with a slightly crooked smiley face drawn in syrup.

"Morning, Garrison," she said, setting the tray down in front of him with a beaming smile. "You must be starving. Eat up."

Garrison glanced at the meticulously prepared breakfast, then looked up at her.

"Where are Mom and Dad? Where's Archie?"

Quinn took a seat across from him. "They left yesterday. After Archie was kidnapped, he's been too terrified to go outside. Grandma and Grandpa were heartbroken, so they decided to take him to the beach house to relax. They left at the crack of dawn and didn't want to wake you."

Garrison nodded, picking up his fork.

"That's for the best. Archie is a boy; he needs to learn to be brave."

Quinn watched with bright, expectant eyes as he cut into the pancakes. "How does it taste, Garrison? I've been practicing for days."

Garrison took a bite. The edges were perfectly crisp, the inside fluffy and sweet.

"It's fine."

Undeterred by his lukewarm praise, Quinn rested her chin on her hands and continued to watch him. The sunlight bathed her face, giving her delicate features a radiant, soft glow.

"Garrison," she asked suddenly, "do you know what day it is today?"

Garrison paused, fork mid-air, and looked at her.

Quinn offered a helpless, affectionate smile. "It's June 10th. It's your thirtieth birthday. Did you actually forget?"

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