Rachel swiftly unhooked a bag from the side of her wheelchair, presenting it with an eager smile. "I spent some time making this for you, please try it," she said, her voice laced with a hopeful tone.
Yvan found Rachel's joy almost blinding, a stark contrast to the discomfort he felt. He wondered when things had started to change between them. Whenever he looked at Rachel, his mind inevitably drifted to Matilda.
Without a word, Carl took the lunch Rachel had prepared and began to unpack it. The first layer held a savory shrimp fried rice, while the second layer was adorned with a variety of delicacies, including a petite serving of beef tenderloin in black pepper sauce with broccoli and cherry tomatoes. The ingredients were fresh, offering a perfect balance between meat and vegetables.
Yet, Yvan couldn't bring himself to eat, lost in his thoughts about Matilda. He remembered a time when Matilda had brought him lunch, and he had discarded it without a second glance, repulsed by the gesture. Now, when he wished to cherish such moments, they were long gone.
Rachel noticed Yvan's distant gaze and softly called out, "Yvan, what's wrong?"
Snapping back to reality, Yvan managed a faint, "Thank you."
Rachel beamed at the acknowledgment, her happiness akin to that of a wife who had just pleased her husband. "I'll make you lunch every day," she declared with a smile.
"No, don't bother," Yvan quickly replied, cutting her off. "It's too much, and honestly, I don't like having someone make lunch for me."
Rachel's smile froze.
Dislike?
How could he not like it?
Seeing her expression, Carl stepped in to ease the tension, "Mr. Boyd might have already eaten, so... perhaps Ms. Archer, you don't need to go through so much trouble next time."
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