Chapter 119

chapter119

Emmanuel reflected on Mackenzie’s earlier suggestion. While some might have found her pragmatic approach a bit distant, he realized it was deeply practical. He hadn't planned on simply giving away eighty thousand without a second thought, but he had been struggling with the moral weight of the decision. Mackenzie’s straightforward logic had unexpectedly eased his burden.

“Thank you, Ms. Quillen.”

Emmanuel suddenly looked at her and smiled. Mackenzie was slightly taken aback before a small laugh escaped her. “What are you thanking me for? I didn't give you any money.”

She turned and returned to her bedroom with her usual cool composure. Inwardly, however, she felt a sense of relief. She hadn't wanted to see him brooding over the matter all night; now that it seemed resolved, the atmosphere in the house felt much lighter.

The following day was Saturday.

Since it was his day off, Emmanuel rose at seven in the morning to prepare breakfast. He was halfway through the preparation when he saw Mackenzie emerging from her bedroom. She looked relaxed, stretching as she shook off the last remnants of sleep.

There was a natural, quiet elegance to her even in her simple morning loungewear. Watching her move around the living room, Emmanuel noted how she seemed to fit perfectly into the calm of the morning.

“Aren’t you going to the office today, Ms. Quillen?” Emmanuel asked, stepping out of the kitchen while still wearing his apron.

“Mmm,” Mackenzie nodded. It was a rare weekend that she wasn't rushing off to a high-stakes meeting or buried in paperwork.

“I’m making breakfast. If you’d like, I can make enough for both of us.”

“Sure.”

Mackenzie watched him return to the kitchen. One of the reasons she had always been wary of marriage was the traditional expectation in Chanaea that women should handle all the domestic chores. She had never expected to find herself in a situation where her husband was the one skillfully managing the kitchen, allowing her to maintain her professional focus without the burden of housework. It was a convenience she hadn't anticipated but deeply appreciated.

Soon, Emmanuel emerged with a plate of golden-brown flatbreads and placed them on the dining table. He then fetched some milk from the fridge to warm it up.

“What are these?” Mackenzie asked curiously, studying the fragrant dish.

“Potato pancakes,” Emmanuel called out from the kitchen. “They’re made with potatoes, eggs, and a bit of flour. Simple ingredients, but they turn out quite well. They have a great aroma, don't they?”

Mackenzie gave a small huff of amusement. “Are you praising your own cooking already?”

Despite her remark, she couldn't deny that the scent was appetizing. She usually stuck to a very strict, high-nutrition diet and rarely ate such "homely" fare, often worried about the balance of her meals.

Emmanuel brought over two glasses of warm milk. Noticing her hesitation, he suggested, “Give it a try, Ms. Quillen. They’re more nutritious than they look and quite light.”

With a slight frown of concentration, she cut a small piece and tasted it gingerly. Her expression shifted almost immediately, and she took two more bites.

Emmanuel felt a genuine sense of accomplishment watching her enjoy the meal. “It does taste good,” she admitted after a moment, “though I’m not accustomed to anything fried. I can only have this on occasion.”

After finishing about half, she took a few sips of milk and set her fork down. Emmanuel noted that she ate with the precision of a kitten, as if she had a tiny scale in her mind measuring every portion.

He shook his head with a smile and finished his own portion quickly before pointing at the remainder of hers. “Are you sure you’re finished with that? It’s too good to go to waste.”