When Her Death Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel) novel Chapter 1965

Chapter 1965 Cooking Pasta For The First Time
After reaching an agreement with Magnus, Denise got ready to leave for work.

“If you get hungry around noon, just cook some pasta. You know how to do that, right?”

Magnus nodded, a bit awkwardly. It's just pasta. Of course I do.

Denise figured it was a simple enough task, so she didn't press further. She slung her bag over her shoulder and added, “My part-time job usually provides dinner. I'll bring some back for you later.”

“All right,” Magnus said with a small nod.

She took a moment to explain the basics of the apartment, then her eyes drifted to his clothes. “The washing machine's in the bathroom. Toss your clothes in and give them a quick wash. With the weather the way it is, they should dry quickly after a spin. Please have them cleaned and on before I get home.”

“Got it,” Magnus agreed again, obligingly echoing every instruction.

Had Cecilia seen him at that moment, she would've been stunned by the change in him.

Denise left shortly after without leaving Magnus a spare key, just in case he turned out to be trouble.

Once she was gone, Magnus returned to the bed and lay down heavily.

His whole body ached. The exhaustion was bone-deep.

These past few days had been hell. He had been living worse than a stray animal, constantly on the run from debt collectors. Now, finally, he had a roof over his head. It felt almost unreal.

His injuries still throbbed, untreated and raw. But they were superficial, thankfully.

He quickly shut his eyes and drifted into sleep. By the time noon rolled around, hunger tugged him awake.

One measly plate of pasta in the morning hadn't come close to satisfying him.

Still groggy, Magnus shuffled out to the balcony where the small induction cooker sat. He grabbed a packet of pasta from the fridge, then stared at the cooker like it was a foreign artifact.

“How do you even turn this thing on?”

He poked at the buttons, squinting at the unfamiliar symbols. After a few minutes of trial and error, he finally got it working.

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “So it was that simple.”

Confident now, he set a pot on the stove, filled it with cold water straight from the tap, and tossed in a handful of dry pasta.

Then paused. “Wait... that's not going to be enough.”