Chapter 232: Chapter 232

Chapter 232:

“We’ve crossed paths on the battlefield before,” he responded, his voice steady.

“Is that all?” Harlee teased, a playful smirk playing on her lips.

Kareem just hummed an affirmative, “Mm,” and briskly walked to his room. Shutting the door behind him, a sudden realization hit him. Why did it feel like he was running away?

Harlee was set to give a lecture at Baythorn University today.

After her morning routine, she traded her relaxed attire for something more formal. She opted for a deep blue denim jacket over matching shorts that were elegantly trimmed with white shirttails at the hems and a neat white tag cinching the waist. She complemented her outfit with knee-high brown boots, their laces perfectly toned to match her ensemble.

Her hair was neatly swept up into a high bun, lending her an air of chic sophistication.

Before exiting her room, she grabbed a light brown purse adorned with tassels and draped it over her shoulder. She then made her way downstairs.

When she reached the bottom of the stairway, the air was rich with a tantalizing scent.

Harlee’s lips twitched into a small smile as she hastened toward the dining room. Upon entering, she spotted Fletcher by the stove.

Her smile gradually disappeared, and she took a seat at the table, her face now devoid of expression, as she started on the breakfast that Callie had brought over.

The enticing smell turned out to be a soup prepared by Fletcher.

From the moment Harlee entered, Fletcher had been diligently stirring the soup, only stopping once he deemed it perfect.

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He then ladled a bowl of the thick, white soup and set it before Harlee.

Harlee looked up, her eyes wide with astonishment.

“For me?”

“Yes,” Fletcher answered, his voice gentle.

He then served himself a bowl and sat opposite her.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” Harlee’s voice echoed with a tinge of confusion as she hastily gulped down her soup.

Fletcher, his face half-hidden in his bowl, spoke in a voice meant for Harlee alone.

“I’m sorry. I got it wrong last time.”

Harlee didn’t immediately grasp his meaning until he mentioned “Etta,” and the pieces fell into place.

“Oh,” Harlee responded, her tone flat.

“I’d actually forgotten about that.”

Surprised, Fletcher looked up, his expression revealing a mix of relief and regret. Observing her relish the soup he had prepared, a small, contented smile formed on his lips.

“I’m sorry for my earlier mistake. You’ve been through so much, and I should have been more understanding.”

Harlee cut him off mid-sentence.

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