Chapter 31 MAKE ME PREGNANT
Chapter 31 MAKE ME PREGNANT
At the rate I was going, we probably wouldn’t be eating until around yen, but I didn’t mind.
Strangely enough, I no longer felt tired.
Perhaps it was because I had managed to rest in the car earlier, or perhaps it was because there was something unexpectedly comforting about cooking for Rare. The simple act of preparing a meal for him made the entire evening feel warm and intimate in a way I didn’t want to think too deeply about.
So I focused on cooking.
The kitchen soon filled with familiar and comforting aromas—the savory scent of soy sauce and onions from the bistek, and the rich, slightly sweet fragrance of pineapple and cream from the pininyahang manok.
Every now and then, I stole a glance toward the living room.
Rare was sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he watched an NBA game. The flickering light from the television danced across his handsome face. His features looked more relaxed now, though the traces of exhaustion were still there.
Even while doing something as simple as watching basketball, he looked unfairly attractive.
It was honestly irritating.
After nearly an hour of cooking, everything was finally done.
I transferred the bistek Tagalog and pininyahang manok into large serving bowls and carried them to the dining table. Then I carefully set the table for two—two plates, spoons, forks, glasses of water, and a pitcher of fresh juice.
I also brought out several bananas, because for me, bistek Tagalog was always better when paired with sweet ripe bananas.
Once everything was arranged, I stepped into the living room and looked at Rare.
“Let’s go” I said softly. “Dinner’s ready.”
He immediately turned off the television and rose from the couch, following me to the dining table without complaint.
And for some reason, watching him walk toward me tired, hungry, and trusting me enough to let me take care of him—made my heart beat a little faster than it should have.
At the way he leaned back with his eyes half-closed.
At the fatigue etched into his features.
At the quiet trust in the simple fact that he had come here.
To me.
Rare joined me at the table, and after his first bite, his eyes widened.
“This is extraordinary. I wanna marry you, Baby.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are overacting..”
“I’m serious. I want your food.. And I want you..”
I pinched his nose and He just laughed. “Just focus on the food!”
And judging by how much he ate, he meant every word.
After dinner, he insisted on helping with the dishes.
“ I’ll wash the dishes.”Rare’s sudden announcement made me lift an eyebrow.
“You know how to wash plates?” I asked, unable to hide my disbelief.
He gave me an offended look. “Of course.”
Then, to my utter horror, he rolled his eyes.
I nearly choked.
Seriously?
A six-foot-tall, world-famous surgeon standing in my kitchen and throwing me attitude.
“Excuse me,” I said, grimacing. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. It looks strangely dramatic on you.”
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“I insist. It’s just a few dishes.”
He gestured toward the plates as though he were volunteering to perform another surgery.
I sighed in defeat. “Fine. I’ll wash, and you rinse.”
“Deal.”
Together, we cleared the table and carried everything to the sink.
I stood beside him, sleeves rolled up, hands covered in soap, while he rinsed each plate and placed it carefully on the drying rack.
The scene felt oddly intimate—like something a married couple would do after dinner.
The thought alone was enough to make me internally slap myself.
“Do you have surgery tomorrow?” I asked, focusing on the plate in my hands rather than the dangerously handsome man beside me.
“Not tomorrow,” he replied. “The day after.”
I handed him another plate.
“Oh.” For a few moments, only the sound of running water filled the kitchen.
Then I broke the silence.
“You know, Rare… I don’t really see the point of this whole courtship act.” He turned to me, brows slightly drawn together.
“What do you mean?”
I shrugged, pretending the words didn’t matter. “What’s the purpose of all this? Isn’t it just to annoy Akisha and Charl?”
A dry, humorless laugh escaped him.
“Seriously?” he asked, his voice edged with disbelief. “You really think I’m doing this just to tease them?”
I frowned. “Well, what else am I supposed to think? You’re still hung up on my sister. I’ve told you before—you should move on and find someone without complications.”
He didn’t respond.
I rinsed another spoon and glanced at him.
“Have you even had another girlfriend after my sister?”
His answer was immediate. “No one.”
I blinked.
For some reason, that surprised me more than it should have.
In a strange way, we were alike. Ihadn’t dated anyone seriously since my breakup with Charl.
“Wow,” I said softly. “Tell me about the two of you.”
“I’ll wash the dishes.”
Rare’s sudden announcement made me lift an eyebrow.
“You know how to wash plates?” I asked, unable to hide my disbelief.
He gave me an offended look. “Of course.”
Then, to my utter horror, he rolled his eyes.
I nearly choked.
Seriously?
A six-foot-tall, world-famous surgeon standing in my kitchen and throwing me attitude.
“Excuse me,” I said, grimacing. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. It looks strangely dramatic on you.”
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“I insist. It’s just a few dishes.”
He gestured toward the plates as though he were volunteering to perform another surgery.
I sighed in defeat.
“Fine. I’ll wash, and you rinse.”
“Deal.”
Together, we cleared the table and carried everything to the sink.
I stood beside him, sleeves rolled up, hands covered in soap, while he rinsed each plate and placed it carefully on the drying rack. The scene felt oddly intimate—like something a married couple would do after dinner.
The thought alone was enough to make me internally slap myself.
“Do you have surgery tomorrow?” I asked, focusing on the plate in my hands rather than the dangerously handsome man beside me.
“Not tomorrow,” he replied. “The day after.”
I handed him another plate.
“Oh.”
For a few moments, only the sound of running water filled the kitchen.
Then I broke the silence.
“You know, Rare… I don’t really see the point of this whole courtship act.”
He turned to me, brows slightly drawn together.
“What do you mean?”
I shrugged, pretending the words didn’t matter.
“What’s the purpose of all this? Isn’t it just to annoy Akisha and Charl?”
A dry, humorless laugh escaped him.
“Seriously?” he asked, his voice edged with disbelief. “You really think I’m doing this just to tease them?”
I frowned.