Echoes of Unrequited Love (Xaviera and Hogan) novel Chapter 66

Chapter 66 

I made an excuse and ducked out of the backyard. 

Meanwhile, in the spacious kitchen, Cecilia was in a tizzy, scrambling to get the ingredients ready. 

When she saw me, it was like I was her knight in shining armor. “Xaviera, what am I gonna do? My cooking skills are so–so at best.” 

took a look at the chaotic countertop, “so–so” was an understatement – it was a hot mess.. 

I tied on an apron and said, “Better let me handle it.” 

I was no master chef, but whipping up a few of Hilary’s favorite home–cooked dishes was a piece of cake for me. 

Plus, I’d spent a good two years cooking for Hogan – I knew exactly when the meal was done, and whether to hold back on the spring onions or skip the ginger. I had their preferences down 

to a T. 

In less than half an hour, I had five dishes and a soup ready to go. The carp soup was one of Hogan’s favorite stomach–friendly brews from the ingredients we had on hand, simmering 

away. 

Hilary’s stiff expression finally softened a bit as she looked at the spread on the table. 

She didn’t even realize it was my handiwork. 

For a moment, I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or sad. 

When she was hospitalized with a heart attack, I was in charge of her meals, every single day for over a month. 

“Mrs. Hilary, give it a try,” Cecilia said enthusiastically, passing Hilary the utensils, “see if it’s to your liking.” 

“Hold on, Hogan’s still on his way.” 

“Hogan’s coming back too?” Cecilia’s eyes were brimming with anticipation. 

Speak of the devil, Hogan walked in. 

Seeing the three of us, he didn’t seem surprised; he must’ve caught wind of it beforehand. 

Cecilia tiptoed over with a beaming smile, “Hogan, I cooked tonight, come and taste my culinary magic.” 

Hogan took the seat of honor. 

With Hilary, the elder, on his left, and Cecilia on his right, dishing up enthusiastically, she was the picture of a considerate young wife–to–be. 

I was the odd one out. 

But the mother and son seemed to approve of Cecilia’s “culinary skills,” tucking in with gusto. 

When the carp soup was served. Cecilia ladled out a big bowl for Hogan. He took a sip and couldn’t help but frown. 

“What’s up, Hogan?” 

Hilary noticed the commotion and glanced at the carp soup, saying coldly. “Hogan can’t stand ginger. Don’t you know that as his girlfriend?” 

The accusatory tone, the displeased look. 

Cecilia was dumbfounded, her face a picture of shock as she looked at me. 

Of course, I knew Hogan couldn’t stand ginger. So I used to use lemon juice to get rid of the fishy smell when I made this dish, but not today. 

With an apologetic tone, I said, “Sorry, Mrs. Hilary, I’m the one who added the ginger.” 

Hilary stared at me in disbelief, “Xaviera?” 

In her mind, I was probably someone who treated Hogan’s preferences as gospel. 

I drooped my eyelids, feigning innocence. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the hint of a smirk on Cecilia’s lips. 

Little did she know, just tonight’s act wasn’t enough. At the right time, they still needed me, the faux ex, to throw things into sharp relief. 

The ginger was a deliberate move on my part. 

After dinner, Cecilia stayed behind to play the role of the good girlfriend, while I made some excuse to high–tail it out of there. 

By the time I made it back to my place, it was dead quiet. I took off my mask of pretense and lay silently in bed.