Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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“Who do you want to pursue, Mr. Fordham?” Giselle met Chester’s eyes and looked surprised. She couldn’t read him from behind his glasses. Still, she was genuinely curious. Which woman could make someone like Chester pursue her?
“Do you really want to know?” he asked in return.
For some reason, this made Giselle’s heart skip a beat. She hastily averted her gaze and looked down at her glass.” Pretend I didn’t ask if you don’t want to answer.”
Chester didn’t take things too far. He retracted his gaze and said, “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Then, he switched the subject. They chatted for a while more before he told her to rest.
The rain grew heavier. Giselle got into bed after washing up. Now that she was relaxed, she was overwhelmed with exhaustion. She checked her phone to see a few unread messages from Emma.
“I’m sorry for dragging you into today’s mess, Ms. Stone. I’ve cleared my outstanding bill with you–consider the extra compensation for your distress. Thanks for showing me his true colors. I’ve decided to divorce him.”
Giselle checked her bank account. Sure enough, she’d received a sum that was twice the original outstanding.
She replied, “You deserve better. Larry Barton isn’t worth your time and love.”
Larry was Jonathan’s good friend. In hindsight, birds of a feather did flock together. They were identical when it came to being assholes.
Giselle tossed and turned in bed, only managing to fall asleep in the wee hours of the morning. Then, she woke up due to her thirst. She left the room, wanting to get a glass of water from the kitchen. To her surprise, Chester was in the living room.
He wore comfortable loungewear, and his hair stuck up at different angles. From where Giselle stood, she could only see his sharp jawline. He seemed to be rummaging through a drawer, looking for something.
She stepped forward after a brief moment of hesitation. “Mr. Fordham?”
As she approached, she saw that his face was scarily pale. His brow was tightly furrowed, and there was a sheen of cold sweat on his forehead. He had one hand on his abdomen, and he looked pained.
Giselle immediately realized what was wrong and crouched. “Where’s your medication, Mr. Fordham? I’ll get it for you.”
“It should be… in the drawer.” His hoarse voice carried a hint of fragility. She had to rummage through two drawers to locate a small white bottle.
“Is it this one?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Chester poured two pills from the bottle and swallowed them without any water. His lashes left faint shadows on his cheeks.
Giselle got two glasses of water from the kitchen. She handed one to him. “Here you go.”
His furrowed brow loosened a little after drinking the water. He massaged his temples and said, “Sorry for waking you up.”
She shook her head. After a beat, she asked, “Do you have gastric?”
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Chapter 11
He hummed in agreement. “It’s an old condition and nothing to worry about.”
There was a brief silence. When Chester saw Giselle standing there with no intention of leaving, he frowned again. “You should rest.”
It was already 4:00 am.
Giselle didn’t feel sleepy at all. She thought about what had happened the day before and realized she hadn’t eaten anything. Chester had been with her, but she hadn’t seen him eating anything, either. She suddenly felt guilty.
“I’m not sleepy. I saw some pasta in the kitchen, Mr. Fordham. Do you want some?”
She’d learned many things during her seven–year relationship with Jonathan, one of which was cooking. He would only taste a bit of her food before saying he was full, though. Later, she realized it was because he’d already eaten with Charlotte.
She couldn’t keep the trace of mockery that glinted in her eyes as she thought about what a fool she’d been. Soon, however, Chester’s voice pulled her out of her reverie. He said, “I’ll do it.”
He was no longer in pain after taking the medication. He felt a little weak but was generally good. He was half a head taller than Giselle; their shadows were entwined on the wall.
She made him sit down and rest. Without even realizing it, her attitude was a little forceful. Chester backed down when he saw how insistent she was. He offered to help her instead.
The kitchen was spacious enough for both of them to move around. They worked together to prepare the meal, dancing around each other in the kitchen as if they were a couple who’d been together for ages.
They prepared bolognese pasta and sat at the table 15 minutes later with their food before them. The steam from the food blurred their vision; the pasta smelled delicious.
Chester ate elegantly; his table manners were flawless. Only then did Giselle notice he wasn’t wearing glasses. His features were all the more prominent without anything in the way, and there was something aloof about him.
He stopped and looked up to meet her gaze, probably because it was too strong. “Is there anything on my face, Ms. Stone?”
She flushed, embarrassed that she’d been caught staring. “N–No. I just didn’t expect someone like you to know how to cook.”
She’d observed him in the kitchen–he’d been familiar with a knife and didn’t seem like a rookie.
He said, “In the Fordham family, the men are the ones who do the cooking.”
Giselle was surprised to hear this. She knew the Fordham family was on par with the Lawson family in terms of affluence and power. Hearing Chester say that the men in the family were the ones who cooked was equivalent to hearing that the sun rose in the west.
He asked casually, “Doesn’t Jonathan know how to cook?”
Her expression turned disgruntled at the mention of Jonathan. Chester immediately apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t—
“There’s no need to apologize,” she said, cutting him off. “You’re not the problem.”
Jonathan and Chester were related to each other, but they were polar opposites. Giselle couldn’t help doubting her
taste in men again.
Silence descended upon the dining room. Neither of them spoke anymore. When Giselle put down her fork,
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Chester stood up and started clearing the table. She wanted to help, but he firmly turned her down. “It’s really late, so you need to rest. I’ll handle this.”
His gaze was dark and carried hints of dominance, leaving her with no choice but to agree.
She didn’t know whether it was because of the delicious meal, but she slept like a baby for the rest of the night. It was past 11:00 am when she woke up again.
This was her first time sleeping over at someone else’s place, yet she’d slept in. She couldn’t help feeling mad at herself and sped up as she freshened up,
When she left the room, she saw Chester wasn’t alone in the living room. There was a familiar face with him, so she.ducked into the room again.
Jonathan’s voice rang out as he asked, “Do you and Giselle know each other well, Uncle Chester?”
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