After eating, she looked at the leftover ingredients in the kitchen. Giving it some thought, she fired up the stove again and prepared a comforting bowl of nourishing chicken noodle soup specifically for Quentin.
The broth was light but incredibly aromatic, perfect for someone with a poor appetite and a heavy mind.
She placed the bowl on a serving tray, walked back to the study door, took a deep breath, and knocked.
The door was pulled open almost immediately.
Quentin stood there, impatience and irritation written all over his face.
"What now?"
He looked down at her with a predatory gaze.
Bonnie swallowed hard, but gathered her courage and pushed the tray forward slightly.
"You need to eat something, or your body won't be able to handle it."
Quentin lowered his eyes, his gaze landing on the tray in her hands.
A perfectly golden-brown fried egg rested on top of the tender pasta, garnished with fresh greens. The rich, medicinal aroma wafted straight into his nose.
His stomach was indeed throbbing with a dull ache, and the scent instantly triggered his appetite.
Quentin stared at her for a moment before silently stepping out of the room, pulling the study door shut behind him.
A wave of relief washed over Bonnie. She quickly followed behind him with the tray, heading toward the dining room.
Sitting at the table, Quentin picked up his fork with aristocratic grace and began to eat slowly and deliberately.
The dining room was quiet, the only sound the faint clinking of silverware against the porcelain bowl.
Bonnie stood to the side, nervously twisting the hem of her shirt.
"I'm sorry."
She spoke up softly.
Quentin didn't stop eating, nor did he even bother to look up.
"Next time... as long as you don't kick me out, I promise I will never leave on my own again."
She promised earnestly.
Quentin finally set his fork down and looked up at her.
His gaze was deep and unreadable, making the hairs on the back of Bonnie's neck stand up.



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