Chapter 27: The Pasta That Was Too Bad to Finish… Yet He Did
Julian stared down at the simplest meal he’d ever seen in his life.
Two plates of plain pasta. That was it.
He frowned.
Cora noticed his hesitation and slid her own bowl toward him. “Try mine.”
He hesitated for a long second—like a man preparing for battle—before finally picking up his fork.
One bite.
A pause.
Then his brows drew together. “Terrible.”
Cora opened her mouth to retort—but froze as he started eating.
And kept eating.
Until his bowl was completely empty.
Terrible, huh? The man had just inhaled the entire thing.
Cora almost laughed. What a liar.
Even eating mediocre pasta, Julian Watson somehow managed to look aristocratic. No wonder women fell over themselves for him.
She twirled her own fork slowly, feeling his gaze settle on her like heat.
When she finally looked up, his eyes were fixed not on her face—but on her bowl.
Was he… still hungry?
Cora blinked, uncertain. “Do you… want some more?”
Something unreadable flickered across his eyes—but he didn’t refuse.
So she cautiously pushed half her portion into his bowl.
Right then, Julian’s phone rang. Austin.
Cora took the hint, stood, and said quietly, “I’m done. I’ll let you take the call.”
She slipped away to her room.
⸻
In the dining room, Julian wiped his mouth and answered. “What’s so urgent? Germany?”
“Yes. The embassy sent an emergency dispatch. They’re asking for immediate confirmation,” Austin reported.
“Fine. Meet me at the hangar.”
⸻
Upstairs, Cora was restless.
She tried a movie. Then her phone.
When she finally stood to get some water, footsteps echoed down the hall.
Julian appeared—fresh suit, travel case in hand, Austin trailing behind him.
He stopped at the kitchen doorway. For a moment, he just looked at her.
Cora froze, clutching her cup. What am I supposed to say?
Was he waiting for her to ask where he was going? That felt idiotic. Obviously, he was leaving. What else could she say—Oh, you’re going out?
She wet her lips, nervous. Julian’s gaze followed the movement, lingering for a second too long.
“I’m flying to Germany tonight,” he finally said.
“Oh.” Her brain caught up a beat late. “Be careful.”
The corner of his mouth twitched—barely, but it was there.
Even Austin looked surprised by how fast his boss’s temper cooled.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Watson,” Austin said cheerfully. “Mr. Watson has his own jet. Perfectly safe.”
Cora nodded, still half dazed, and saw them off.
Thirty minutes later, realization hit.
He’s gone. I’m alone.
A grin spread across her face.
Finally. No more walking on eggshells, no more guessing his moods.
She could breathe again.
For the first time since moving in, she felt… free.
She laughed out loud, twirling on the spot. Even the furniture looked friendlier.
That night she ran a steaming bath, sank into the giant tub, and sighed as bubbles covered her shoulders.
“Luxury really does make people happy,” she murmured, blowing foam into the air like a kid.
Wrapped in a towel, she flopped onto the enormous bed, giggling.
Tonight, the mansion was hers. Entirely hers.
Somewhere between laughter and exhaustion, she drifted off—dreaming of lavender fields, a small child’s hand in hers, a man in white walking toward them through the sunlit haze.
She couldn’t see his face, no matter how she tried.
Then strong arms wrapped around her from behind.
“Who are you?” she gasped.
A low chuckle brushed her ear. “Your husband, of course.”
She turned—and saw Julian’s face.
“Ah!”
Cora shot up in bed, heart racing. “I’m losing my mind. I actually dreamed about Julian?!”
She covered her face with both hands, groaning. “Relax, Cora. He’s gone. You can finally rest. The baby and I are fine.”
Relief bubbled up again. She jumped from the bed, grabbed one of his oversized white shirts, and wandered barefoot into the bright morning.
The sunlight was dazzling. She stretched, scratched her messy hair, and smiled at the sky.
“Good morning, sunshine! I’m Cora—and I’m great!”
God, she probably looked ridiculous. But no one was there to see it.
Spotting the balcony plants, she picked up a watering can and began humming—then singing, full-on, spinning in circles with the can like it was a dance partner.
“I’m yours… so I won’t hesitate no more, no more, it cannot wait, I’m sure…”
Her laughter mixed with the morning air, carefree and bright.
⸻
Julian’s car rolled to a stop outside the house.
Austin opened his mouth to speak, but Julian lifted a hand. Silence.
They both looked up.
On the balcony stood Cora—in his shirt, bare-legged, hair flying, spinning in sunlight as she sang to a watering can.
Austin bit back a grin. Mrs. Watson, you’ve officially earned my respect.
Julian said nothing. He just watched.
She turned, laughing, her lips curved, her body moving with effortless grace, dark hair catching the light. Her voice wasn’t perfect, but the sound was somehow—beautiful.
And when she smiled shyly at the watering can, as if it were alive, something in Julian’s chest gave an almost imperceptible tug.