Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

"I mean, it's not like I have to be head over heels for him to spend my life with him." Tina had a pretty pragmatic view of her arranged marriage. "As long as we share common interests, who needs endless conversations?"

"Just make sure you come back before the wedding," the man said. "Once you tie the knot, say goodbye to your freedom."

"Quit your yapping," Tina retorted as she closed the door behind her and made her way toward her room, pausing midway to turn towards the kitchen instead.

Seeing Phillip up and cooking was a surprise. "You're still awake?"

"Whipping up some late-night grub." Phillip's glance lingered on her for a barely noticeable moment.

She had changed her clothes.

"Aren't you usually in bed by eleven?" Tina reminded him, half-jokingly adding, "Maybe you should ask our maid for help. I wouldn't want you getting food poisoning on my watch." Phillip looked back at her, unamused. "Your friend?"

"What?" His question caught her off guard, but then she realized he must have overheard her earlier conversation. "Oh, that was Weston Farley, an old buddy of mine."

The Watsons and the Farleys were thick as thieves, and the Farleys had even flown in from Capital City to attend the engagement party.

Phillip met countless people daily, his memory was fairly good, enough to remember a man from the Farley family who was around her age, handsome, and spirited, much like her.

As the pot began to boil, Phillip lifted the lid, and with no further conversation from him, Tina headed back to her room to shower.

She had been spilled on at the bar, her clothes reeking of cocktails, so she ended up buying a not-so-fitting replacement from a nearby store.

Fresh out of the shower, her hair wrapped in a towel, Tina went to grab a drink. That's when the aroma of Phillip's late-night snack wafted through the air, drawing her in like a fish to bait. "What are you making? It smells amazing."

"Udon," Phillip replied. "I cooked too much. Want some?"

He served up a tempting dish of tomato and tuna udon, complete with a soft-boiled egg, sprinkled with seaweed and scallions.

It looked so good, Tina nearly forgot

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her last experience with undercooked pasta. Hesitant at first, her doubts were quelled when Phillip placed two steaming bowls on the dining table.

"Why not? Let's give it a try."

Some people just have that magic touch, and Phillip seemed to have mastered the art of cooking overnight, turning his previous culinary disaster into a delightful surprise.

Tina polished off her bowl and sat back, her stomach contentedly full.

Phillip collected the bowls and headed back to the kitchen, with Tina's gaze following him.

"Do you always pick things up this quickly?"

"Not really," Phillip said.

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He had spent the last couple of months systematically studying cooking during his spare time, preferring to keep things within his control and only acting when confident.

Feeling a bit stuffed and looking to kick off some chat, Tina asked, "Ever showed you my photography?"

Phillip had looked up her published work, but she was asking if she had personally shown him, so he replied, "No."

Eager to share, Tina went to fetch her laptop from the bedroom.

But when she came back out, Phillip was no longer in the living room. After a brief search, she noticed his bedroom door ajar and, laptop in arms, she ventured inside.