She held her breath, completely terrified. She had been by his side long enough to know how dangerously perceptive he was...
"I'm just not feeling well. It hasn't been that long since the miscarriage, and my body still thinks it's pregnant."
He withdrew his gaze and reached over to snap the glovebox shut. Starting the engine, he asked casually, "Do you want me to book an appointment for you tomorrow?"
Her heart raced. She shook her head, keeping her eyes glued to her lap. "No. I'm fine."
He didn't bring it up again.
The car was dead silent. He didn't ask where she wanted to go, simply driving straight to Clearwater Manor.
It wasn't until they were almost pulling into the estate that he spoke. "Starting tomorrow, resume bringing me my meals. I'll have someone set up VIP access for you."
She was stunned, instantly thinking back to what had happened earlier today.
Hadn't he said she didn't need to do that anymore?
Cooking three meals a day required an immense amount of time, leaving her barely any room for her actual job.
The soups alone required constant supervision.
And she was swamped at work right now.
Still, she spoke up. "Mr. Forrester, I actually don't know where I'm supposed to put the food. When I first started delivering it, you told me you didn't know where to put it, so I should just throw it in the trash. After that, I started leaving it on the table by the floor-to-ceiling windows."
Even now, the memory of her heartfelt efforts being treated like garbage kept her trapped in a cycle of self-doubt.
"But when I got off work, I found all the food I cooked sitting in your trash can."
The car rolled to a stop.
He looked over at her.


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