CHAPTER 42: HE LOST HIS TASTE BUDS

"Sorry if I sound like I’m bossing you around, E—" Axel’s voice faded when Evelyn spun her head around and shot him a glare. The kind of glare that could slap a person.

He smiles at her to help cheer her up. But he failed. Of course.

"Can you stop talking to me? I’ll cook for you, alright." She warned him.

Then, she yanked open the cupboard and pulled out two packs of instant noodles like they were her secret weapons. She held them up dramatically to show him.

"Axel, please behave in your seat. I will cook the delicious noodles for you. I hope you didn’t complain...Thank you!"

Axel leaned back on the sofa, his voice calm, yet threaded with quiet amusement.

"That’s awesome, Evelyn. I’ll eat whatever you make."

"Spicy or not?" she asked again, cracking an egg into the pot with more force than necessary.

"Not spicy. Thank you..." Axel replied and stood, casual as ever, and crossed the room to perch on the kitchen island. Not too close, but close enough that Evelyn could feel his eyes on her. Watching, always watching.

Her back stiffened as she stirred the noodles. Great. Now she had to cook while being watched, as if she were cooking in a cooking show and before a TV camera.

"Ugh, why are you like this?" she muttered under her breath, loud enough for him to hear. "Couldn’t you just eat before you come here?"

"I was in a rush to get my ride," he said smoothly. "...and I didn’t have time to eat dinner."

"Why do you need to rush? Don’t you have a private jet?" she responds, still unwilling to see him.

"You are right, I have jet, but today I fly with a helicopter, and the pilot needs to go home."

Evelyn rolls her eyes. Of course, she can’t believe him. She read in one of his interviews that he has a pilot’s license. He usually flies his jet and helicopter.

"Do you think I believe you, Axel?" she wanted to ask, but those words only echoed in her mind.

"And besides," he continued as though this were a perfectly normal conversation, "I only stay next door two nights... No food in my fridge. Only water."

Evelyn’s lips twitched. She wanted to laugh, but held it in.

’No food in his fridge? Please. This man probably owns three refrigerators, a backup freezer, and a personal chef on speed dial. Next, he’ll say he’s too poor to afford bread.’

She bit her tongue, knowing that if she said something, he would twist her words into another verbal victory. And she was not giving him that satisfaction tonight.

So she focused on the noodles. Stir. Stir. Glare at the stove like it personally offended her.

Maybe if she glared hard enough, they’d boil faster.

Silence continues.

She almost thought she’d won some peace when his voice broke in again.

"Don’t worry, Evelyn," he said quietly, his tone almost gentle. "This is the last time I’ll bother you. I’ll have someone fill my fridge tomorrow."

Her spoon froze mid-stir.

’Oh, really? The last time you’ll bother me? What is this, a farewell dinner? Should I be honored that you chose my cheap noodles as your final meal?’

Her inner sarcasm practically screamed, but she bit it back, lips pressed tight. Outwardly, she said nothing, dumping the noodles into a bowl with a sigh.

Evelyn asked him to sit at the dining table by the glass window, then she placed the bowl in front of him.

"Bon appétit, Mr. Knight..." she said as she settled across from him.

Axel looked at the steaming noodles, then at her, and for the briefest second, his lips curved into the ghost of a smile.

He didn’t touch the noodles right away. No, of course not. He had to sit there, studying the bowl as though it were a top-secret file marked "Classified."

A sour smile crosses her lips, "Oh, please... So, you need to run a background check on the egg first?"

Finally, he picked up the fork, twirled the noodles, and took a bite. He chewed slowly. Thoughtfully. Like he was critiquing a Michelin-starred dish.

Evelyn was laughing inwardly, her sarcastic remark returned, "Well, Mr. Knight? Did I pass the test? Or should I prepare my resignation letter as your unpaid chef?"

His lips twitched, just slightly.

"It’s good, Evelyn!"

Evelyn blinked.

"Please stop, don’t shower me with too much praise. You might overwhelm me with all that enthusiasm."

He took another bite, unbothered. "I’m not. It’s terrific food. Delicious"

She pinched her eyes in disbelief.

He said it was good. But, wait. Was he... meant to say it? Her instant noodles? Good? No way. Either this man had never eaten instant noodles in his life, or his taste buds were broken.

Evelyn narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, aware that the instant noodles she makes always turn out salty.

Even her son, Oliver, constantly reminds her not to use all the ingredients. And just now, she was too distracted to remember that.

"Are you mocking me?" She asked.

"No." His gaze flicked to hers, steady and unreadable, before returning to the bowl. "I’m just hungry."

"Oh." Evelyn slightly smiled while venting her sarcasm in her mind, ’Well, hungry man eats noodles...I believe he has really lost his taste buds.’

However, she couldn’t help watching him as he ate. And of course, because the universe enjoyed tormenting her, the sight was... oddly attractive.

He didn’t slurp like a caveman or chew like a tractor. He ate neatly and controlled, with every movement smooth.

Even eating instant noodles, Axel Knight still managed to look like he belonged on the cover of a glossy lifestyle magazine.

’Ugh, stop staring, Eve...’ She scolded herself inwardly before turning her gaze away, pretending to fuss with a dish towel. ’He’s just a man eating noodles, not a commercial for luxury table manners.’

And yet... when she peeked at him again, he was almost done. And worse, he looked satisfied.

He gently set the empty bowl down with a soft sigh, as if that small, sad meal had truly satisfied him.

"Thank you." His eyes meet hers.

She swallowed nervously.

"You’re welcome," she answered, though inside her sarcasm was buzzing. ’Wow, first he invades my kitchen, then he compliments my noodles. What’s next? Ugh, I hope he leaves me alone... in peace!’

But then—because fate clearly hated her—he wiped his mouth with a napkin, stood up, and said in that smooth, commanding voice of his, "Tomorrow, don’t forget we’ll finalize our marriage."

Evelyn nearly fell out of her chair.