CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE – A NEW SOLUTION

The undercurrent of bitterness was unmistakable, prompting Charlotte to reach out instinctively, her fingers curling around the gnarled knuckles of his work-roughened hand. "Tony, I –" "Save your pity, lass," he cut her off, though his tone lacked its customary bite. "I'm an old dog, set in my ways. No amount of words'll change that." Despite the bluster, he made no move to withdraw from her comforting touch, his palm remaining steady and warm beneath her fingers. For a span of heartbeats that stretched into an eternity, they remained that way – a silent communion between two kindred spirits who had seen their fair share of hurt. Eventually, the moment passed, each of them slipping back into the familiar rhythms of their tasks like a pair of actors donning well-worn costumes. But as the night wore on and the kitchen filled with the rich aromas of sizzling meats and bubbling sauces, Charlotte couldn't quite shake the aching sense of kinship she felt towards the surly old chef – no