Chapter 201 He Said the Other Woman Was Genuine
There was a certainty in his demeanor, a sureness that suggested this was her first experience of such a kind.
"The meal is ready, my dears," the nanny declared, her voice carrying the warmth of a home hearth. "Come and partake, you two lovebirds."
Victoria Kensington's gaze, previously lost in the distance, returned to the man before her. Alexander Harrington offered her a smile, his laughter a refreshing zephyr amidst the oppressive summer heat.
Victoria felt her heart drumming in her chest, her pulse quickening under the intensity of his gaze. This wasn't the first time she had found herself captivated by him.
After a moment that stretched into eternity, she finally averted her eyes. "You should go and eat," she suggested.
"Together," he responded, his hand reaching out to take hers.
Victoria glanced down at their interlocked fingers, her hand barely gripping his, the urge to pull away gnawing at her.
But Alexander held on, his grip firm and unyielding. "It's my birthday today," he reminded her. "Sharing a bowl of noodles seems fitting, doesn't it?"
Without further protest, knowing their hands would part once they sat down, Victoria took the seat opposite him. As he picked up his fork, he looked at her, a playful smile on his lips. "Did you really make this?" he asked.
"Mm-hm," she responded, her voice barely a whisper.
In truth, she had been tempted to give credit to the nanny. She had only taken up cooking as a challenge, never intending to prepare a birthday meal for him. Yet, that was exactly what had transpired.
Internally, she reminded herself, You don't love him anymore. You can't even remember his birthday. You didn't want to make him a birthday dish. You did it all just to spare the nanny's feelings.
He wasn't entirely pleased with the dish's presentation, but the thought of her making it coaxed him into giving it another chance. As the nanny had assured, the noodles, though late from the pot, were cooked to perfection. They were a bit rough around the edges, but the taste was surprisingly good.
"Mr. Alexander, how does it taste?" she asked, her voice laced with anticipation.
"Not bad," he replied, his eyes meeting hers across the table as he nodded in approval.
"Mrs. Harrington, didn't I tell you that you could do it? And anything you make, Mr. Alexander is bound to like, right?" the nanny chimed in, her tone cheerful.
"Mm," he responded, acknowledging Victoria with a curt nod before returning to his meal.
He could sense her unease but hoped that, with time, it would dissipate.
Victoria, too, eventually succumbed to the silence, lowering her gaze to her meal. When her phone rang, she swiftly retrieved it, her eyes scanning the caller ID. Recognizing Adrian's name, she set down her fork and rose to her feet. "Hello, oh, you're coming home today?"
Alexander's spoon paused mid-air, his eyes narrowing, a sharp, penetrating look overtaking his features.
Adrian.
Were they still in contact? And if so, what did that imply? For some inexplicable reason, Victoria seemed infinitely patient, even tender, whenever she spoke with Adrian on the phone.
But with him...
A bitter pang of jealousy stirred within Alexander Harrington's heart.
She ended her call just as his own phone began to ring. He could have ignored it, but he answered it, irritation tingeing his voice. "What's up?"
"Happy Birthday, I've made pasta. Want to come down and have some?"
"Sure, I'll be right there."
He rose abruptly, not sparing Victoria another glance as she returned from her call.
"Mr. Alexander, where are you going?" the nanny asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Isabella Montgomery made pasta, and she's invited me over."
"But Mrs. Harrington made some too, and aren’t you full yet?"
"Isabella Montgomery means it sincerely."
He finally looked at Victoria, his gaze heavy with unspoken words, suggesting he believed Victoria's intentions were less than sincere.
She quickly averted her eyes, not denying his accusation. She hadn't put her heart into it.
Yet, after he left, she found herself suppressing silent sobs.
What the hell?
A man choosing between two women's cooking?
She knew she shouldn't harbor any hopes for him.
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