Chapter 395

Oh, the drama at the dinner table could rival any Thanksgiving family gathering gone awry. But here they were, Elijah having summoned his parents to an unofficial "peace treaty" meeting over dinner. The stakes? Whoever lost their cool first would be in the bad graces of their son. So, there they sat, feigning harmony for the sake of their boy.

But let's be real, the so-called peace was as thin as the broth in their bowls, all for Elijah's eyes. Deep down, both Elysia and Tarquin harbored their own schemes.

At Elijah's request, Elysia had whipped up a bowl of noodles for Tarquin as well. Three bowls of noodles, three people, all pretending this was the picture of domestic bliss.

Throughout the meal, Elijah couldn't stop singing praises about Elysia's cooking, pushing Tarquin to join the chorus.

"Dad, isn't mom's noodles the best?"

of a stern glance from the little guy, a clear

could only muster a “...", internally scoffing at the overemphasis on a simple bowl of noodles.

pot." The table fell into an awkward silence soon after, only to be broken by a swift kick to Tarquin's leg from under the table. It was Elijah, sending covert signals of distress

confused, tried to decipher his son's silent

up, Elijah seized the moment

not me. You gotta pick up the slack and not rely

that it was Elijah who had set this whole charade in motion, but he kept it

over by being silent. You need to charm her with words, dad. Mom's easy to

mumbled, slumping toward the couch before Elijah's

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