Chapter 438 “Wife”

The room was cramped and tiny, making George, who was nearly 1.9 meters tall, look like a giant. Isabelle lay on the bed watching him bustling around.

“What are you doing?”

George turned around. “Cooking porridge.”

He was actually cooking porridge for her.

Soon, George brought the bowl of cooked porridge to the bedside.

Knowing that Isabelle was picky and probably a bit of a clean freak, George said, “I’ve cleaned the utensils many times, they’re clean.”

Isabelle stayed silent.

George blew on the porridge to cool it down and began spoon–feeding her.

After she had a couple of spoonfuls, Isabelle suddenly exclaimed, “It’s not even cooked.”

George paused, thinking cooking porridge didn’t require much skill and since it didn’t have much taste anyway, he hadn’t bothered asking if she liked it.

He hadn’t expected something as simple as porridge to go wrong.

Taking a spoonful of the clearly undercooked porridge himself, he realised the rice was still half raw.

George remarked, “I’ll cook it again.”

Isabelle said, “No need.”

Then she asked, “What about you?”

George replied, “I’ve made plenty, I’ll eat after you’re done.”

Isabelle said. “Then… Maybe cook it a bit more.”

George smiled. “Sure.”

turning it into mush. He tasted it and couldn’t help but furrow his

cook up another batch

into a bowl, trying his best to

a bowl of porridge, Isabelle regained some

finished the remaining porridge, then went to boil water to help Isabelle wash her

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treat line

some hot water and brought it to the bedside to wash Isabelle’s hair.

her head was near the edge of the bed, and

Isabelle looked up at the man above her, concentrating on his

“Your clothes are really

isn’t

smile crept up on

added. “But you look good”

on Isabelle’s

continued to carefully wash her

with Jim? Did he blow up

phone. And yes, the castle blew up,”

Isabelle nodded.

desert castle, but it clearly

Isabelle suddenly asked, “What

18th. Why?” George

“No reason.”

like eating tonight?”

just try not

George

one delivering food to George was a

slum, and the beat–up little

the house over for temporary lodging.

evening, as Isabelle lay on the bed, she heard the young boy coming again to deliver food to George. Peeking

“She’s

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