Chapter 115
He originally thought she had discovered something so she took the initiative to go upstairs to accompany him, but he didnât expect that he was thinking too much
Cornelia moved slightly reminding him that he was still holding her wrist. President Hartley, you should let go of me firstâ
Marcus let go of her hand with a hint of disappointment. âSorry!â
âI know, you must have thought I was your wife when you grabbed my hand.â She could see the vulnerability in his eyes, probably because of the troubles between him and his wife Cornela thought for a moment and decided to say something President Hartley, if you care so much about your wife, just talk to her. Donât keep everything to yourselfâ
âCan it really be resolved just by talking? Marcus had thought about having a heart to heart chat, but he didnât dare to take that risk
Cornelia said, âYou have to try everything. If you donât try how will you know if it will work?â
âTrue you make a lot of sense âHe smiled, âWhen we get back to Riverton, you can pick a restaurant you like, and Iâll invite her to have a good talkâ
âAlright
prepare when I get back. âCornelia genuinely hoped that he and his wife could make up soon, so her job would be easier.
She remembered the porridge still cooking in the pot, âPresident Hartley, Iâve got porridge simmering in the pot. Ill go get you some, and then you should rest early.â
Marcus, Thank you!â
âYou donât have to thank meâ Cornelia lowered her head, feeling a bit down, âIf it wasnât for me, you wouldnât have eaten such greasy food last night, and your stomach wouldnât be upset. President Hartley. Iâm sorry!â
Donât blame yourself, itâs not your fault Marcus reached out and gently rubbed the bun on top of her head.
This was the first time he had touched her bun, her hair was smooth and black, and it felt nice.
He pulled back his hand and sniffed it. The fragrance was light but refreshing
Cornelia was startled by his sudden overstep, but when she met his calm and composed gaze, she felt like she was overthinking it again, President Hartley, Iâll go get the porridgeâ
Marcus, âAlrightâ
Cornelia quickly left his room. Marcus sniffed his fingers again, the scent of his little wife still lingering, not only fragrant but also sweet
Cornelia scooped up the porridge and turned around, only to find Marcus, who should have been resting in his room, standing at the door, President Hartley, why did you come down?â
Marcus asked without answering. âAre you good at cooking?â
Cornelia thought she had quite a few signature dishes, and those who had tasted them said they were good. However, the only people fortunate enough to eat her dishes were her grandmother, Zack, and Abigail.
No matter what she cooks, the three of them think it is the best food in the world, so her true level of cooking has yet to be verified.
She humbly said, President Hartley, I can only make a few dishes, nothing fancy, and definitely not comparable to your chef.â
âDishes should have a taste of home. Chefs can make all kinds of delicacies, but theyâll never have that feeling of home.â Marcus looked at her earnestly, âCould you teach me how to cook?â