Chapter 102

In this unfamiliar city, we relied on each other for warmth, though the connection felt more like an echo of the past. My specialty dish was pasta. Even with such simple ingredients, I could make a dish that was full of flavor, color, and aroma. Every time I made it, Abigail would finish her food, completely satisfied. Pasta seemed to represent the way we used to be—passionate and full of love. I took a slow breath and looked at Abigail, masking my emotions with a sarcastic tone. "A CEO used to indulging in fancy meals actually wants a bowl of pasta like that?" I wasn't just talking about the food—I was talking about myself. To her, the fancy meal was Joshua, the guy who had swept her off her feet when she was at her lowest. Compared to him, I was just this plain, forgettable plate of pasta. But what surprised me was her reaction. She didn't get upset. Instead, she smiled calmly and nodded. "Of course. Your pasta dish is my favorite. Will you make some for me?" she asked, her