Chapter 155

Ludwik’s tone was cool and emotionless, and Whitney could not comprehend his emotions.

Her heart raced as she jerked back, feeling like it might leap right out of her throat.

Why was he in the kitchen?

Ludwik eyed her suddenly downcast face, saying nothing as his long fingers covered her pale ones. He expertly took the spatula to sauté the morels in the pan, skillfully bringing the water to a boil.

Whitney was a mess of nerves, unable to comprehend why he would still want to be near her.

Trapped in his scorching embrace, unable to break free, she did not know how to escape.

“The water’s boiling,” he reminded her, his voice nasal, hinting at a cold.

“Oh,” Whitney replied stiffly, reaching for the pot.

The man assisted her, pouring out the water with ease.

Natalie’s silhouette lingered at the kitchen entrance, her laughter peeking through.

Turning her head, Whitney started to grasp what he meant.

Pretending to go along with it, she did not dodge him anymore, and he instructed, “Add just a bit of oil.”

She reached for the oil bottle, her pinky finger instinctively raised in a delicate and graceful manner, pouring just a little and waiting for his cue.

Ludwik squinted, watching her dainty, onion–like fingers, his husky voice commanding, “Pour more.”

“Add the morels,” he directed.

Whitney quickly scooped up the morel slices, her cooking skills obviously lacking.

The man enveloped her tiny hand with his, taking up the spatula.

Their bodies were so close in the warm kitchen that it gave Whitney a dizzying sensation as if the warmth inside her was returning.

But was this just a fleeting dream?

he knew it too, hence this last close moment he

felt pricked by a needle, sharp and stinging, and Whitney silently wished for time

little

the dishes were quickly prepared.

him out of the kitchen, leaving the warmth behind and returning

was soon laden with a feast, cakes, pastries,

lighting romantic candles, inviting Whitney to take a

the grand table sat

of us for New Year’s, so dreary and quiet. Now, with Whitney and the baby on the way, we’re still few, but I

beamed

turmoil whispering, could

was their first New Year’s together,

the table, his

a glass of wine, his long fingers swirling it

table until Natalie nudged her son, “Don’t

his glass, wiping his lips with a napkin, his gaze coolly meeting

her seat, her heart feeling locked

about to say,

to face a significant loss, and he would not

be it, a clean

slightly, as if pricked by needles, unbearably painful.

royal blue case sliding

the table, looking down, his deep eyes fixed on

Confused, Whitney did.

stunning diamond ring that left her speechless.

the bid on purpose? I won’t ask. I can forgive that error. If you thought your mistake would anger me, drive me away, and set me free with Elaine, you need not have bothered. I

gaze darkened. “What exactly went wrong between us? I don’t understand. It seems to

mocking, pained smile flickered in

bit her lip hard, fearing she would be overwhelmed

Take your time to consider wearing

his seat, the man who always seemed so untouchable.

had he just

Whitney’s heart trembled.

proposing

ŏ S I G S

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