Better Late, But Never His Again novel Chapter 25

"You sit right there and rest. I forbid you from lifting a finger tonight."

Unable to argue with her, Hazel nodded. Just as she approached the kitchen doorway, another loud argument erupted in the living room.

"Marion has never liked almonds! Your memory is absolutely shot in your old age!" Cedric's arrogant voice drifted over.

Walter wasn't about to back down. "Oh, you want to talk about memory? Remember that time you completely messed up the data and made Marion re-compile everything from scratch?!"

Cedric's face tightened. "I was sabotaged, and don't think I don't know you were part of that conspiracy!"

Walter stuck his tongue out like a petulant child. "You have zero proof!"

Marion stood up with a heavy sigh and walked toward the kitchen, bumping into Hazel. She offered a tired, apologetic smile.

"Go sit down, sweetie. I'll help Queenie."

Hazel looked at the two distinguished scientists still bickering in the living room and felt a sudden wave of exhaustion. She rubbed her forehead in amusement.

How were these two brilliant men still fighting like middle schoolers?

Chuckling softly to herself, she walked over and took a seat on the couch. The moment she sat down, Walter immediately sidled up next to her.

"So, Hazel, what have you been busy with all these years?"

Cedric immediately shoved Walter aside and sat on her other side. "Don't listen to his nonsense. Hazel, are you planning on staying this time?"

Trapped between the two bickering elders, Hazel didn't even know where to start.

Thankfully, Queenie popped her head out of the kitchen.

"You two, leave my Hazel alone! If you keep harassing her, neither of you is getting any dinner!"

Walter and Cedric finally quieted down, exchanging one last venomous glare before sinking back into their respective seats.

Marion carried a steaming plate out of the kitchen and smiled. "Alright, everyone. Dinner is served."

Hazel quickly stood up to help set the table with silverware.

He paused. Was Hazel back?

He knew she wouldn't be able to stay away from him. She was always so clingy.

Julian strode briskly down the stairs, but as he reached the kitchen archway, his footsteps faltered.

It wasn't Hazel bustling around the stove. It was Evelyn.

She was wearing an apron, clumsily stirring a pan on the stove.

Julian's expression shifted, and he quickly walked over. "Evelyn? What are you doing cooking? You're still recovering."

Evelyn looked back over her shoulder and smiled. "I'm fine. I just wanted to make you a home-cooked meal. Since Hazel isn't here, who's going to cook for you?"

Julian frowned slightly. "We have a private chef. You don't need to..."

"A chef's cooking doesn't taste like home," Evelyn interrupted softly. "Besides, I wanted to try."