The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 548

Inside a private restaurant near the hospital.

Warm yellow light spilled across the table, casting a soft halo over their silhouettes as they sat across from each other.

Sloane held the menu, flipping past a couple of pages. Her eyes darted back and forth over the dense list of dishes, but she couldn't bring herself to order.

She suddenly realized she knew absolutely nothing about the child sitting in front of her—what he liked to eat, what he hated, what he was allergic to, whether he preferred sweet or savory.

Any other mother could answer those questions in her sleep, but she couldn't answer a single one.

"Archie, I... I don't know what you like to eat."

She lowered the menu, a hint of unconcealable guilt and caution threading through her voice.

Archie sat opposite her, his hands resting properly on the table, his back perfectly straight, his posture impeccable.

He tilted his face up to look at Sloane. His amber eyes were bright and clear under the lights, and his lips curved into a small, earnest smile. "It's okay, Mom. Whatever you like is what I like."

Sloane's fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the menu.

She looked down, pretending to study the dishes, and blinked rapidly when he wasn't looking to force back the heat rising in her eyes.

Then she ordered a few items—simple, lightly seasoned, home-style dishes that she figured a child his age would eat.

While they waited for the food, Archie reached out and grabbed the water pitcher on the table. Holding it carefully with both hands, he filled the glass in front of Sloane with warm water, then gently nudged it toward her. The bottom of the glass made a very faint clink against the wooden table.

"Archie, you've grown up so much."

She stared at the glass he had pushed toward her, a tangled mess of complicated emotions in her voice.