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Chapter 382: Just Us
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2026-11-16 02:33:05
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He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 382: Just Us
It took me a second to hear it properly. I had been so ready to hand Sunday to Claire and Marcus, to make it an easy, cheerful thing with other people holding half the conversation, that I had not noticed he was asking me for the afternoon. When I did notice, I felt it somewhere under the apron strings, a small warm drop."Oh," I said. "Yes. Just us. Yes, of course.""You don't have to say yes so many times.""I'm making up for the one I missed." I put my fork down on the edge of the bowl."You just had Claire's name loaded." He rubbed at the white streak on his temple and only smeared it further. "I liked tonight. I liked that we were both useless at it and it didn't matter. We got it wrong and laughed, and nobody minded, and I'd like another go at that, that's all."I was pleased in a way I did not quite know where to put. He had said it plainly, a little awkwardly, to the pasta rather than to me, and he had not once dressed it as a joke. It was the kind of directness I had spent we
He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 381: The Apron
The sign above the door said Fresh Pasta Workshop, and Damien read it twice before he looked at me. He was wearing the oldest jumper he owned, the grey one with the thinning elbows, which told me he had taken my warning seriously. "Messy," he said slowly, as if the word had finally got its dues."I did warn you.""You said messy. You didn't say flour.""It's both, usually." I pushed the door open, and a warm, floury smell came out to meet us, along with the clatter of a dozen people already tying aprons. Long steel benches ran down the room, each with a wooden board, a bowl and a small hill of white flour waiting to be disturbed. Damien stood in the doorway taking it in with the face of a man who was not yet sure whether to be alarmed.The instructor, a brisk woman called Nina with flour to her elbows, gave us a bench near the back and two aprons. Damien's was navy and far too short, and he stood there holding it like a tea towel until I took it from him and put the strap over his hea
He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 380: Five Minutes
"Yes," I said. "Say it now. I'd rather have it than wonder."He nodded, slowly, and for a moment I thought he might lose his nerve. His hand stayed round mine, and I felt it settle, the way a person settles before lifting something heavy. When he spoke, he kept his eyes on the page."I was glad it was you," he said. "That's all it was, really. I wanted you to know it, and I wanted you to hear it from me, privately, before the day got any further away."I opened my mouth and found nothing in it. I had prepared for something grander, some paragraph that would need answering, and instead he had given me a few plain sentences that I could not have improved with a month's notice. The lamp ticked as it warmed, and I looked at the drawing, and at his jaw, and at the drawing again."You've had that in your pocket since then," I said eventually."More or less. It got a bit creased.""It's not creased." I closed the sketchbook halfway, and then realised I was still holding his hand and had been
He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 379: The Page I Skipped
I could have said it was nothing. He would have let me, which was exactly why I didn't. My fingers were still under the corner of the page, and I could feel where the pencil had pressed hard enough to raise the paper."You really want to see it?" I asked."Only if you want me to." His hand hadn't left the book. "I can wait. I'm good at it, apparently.""That's not something people say about themselves.""I'm saying it about this one."I laughed, not much, and then I turned the page and let it fall flat. I looked at the drawing instead of at him, because I had no idea what my own face was doing and I would rather find out about his first.The sketch was small, and not very good. I had made it quickly, the way you write down a dream before it goes, with no background at all, only the tilt of his head, because that was the part I'd been afraid of losing. The line at his jaw was heavier than it should have been where I'd gone over it twice. He was looking off to one side, towards where I
He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 378: His Turn
Damien stood and carried the pencil and the sketchbook round the table to my chair, and I took his. The seat was still warm from him. From there the lamp lit the left side of my face, and I could feel exactly where it fell.It was strange to be on the other end of it. I had been so easy when I held the pencil, ordering him about and tilting his chin, and now my hands didn't know what to do with themselves. I folded them in my lap, and then unfolded them, and Damien looked up from the page and then down again without saying a word.He drew the way he did most things he was new at, with enormous concentration and a total absence of vanity. He held the pencil too near the point and gripped it as if it might escape, and his tongue came out at the corner of his mouth, which I had never seen before. I kept my eyes on the lamp and listened to the scratch of lead on paper."What are you doing with my neck?""I'm not telling you.""It's going on a long time.""It's a long neck." He frowned at
He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 377:Sit Still
"Not all of you," I said. "A bit of you.""Which bit?""Mostly a hand.""Mostly." He waited. He had the grace not to reach for the book, and he sat there in the lamplight with his own hands flat on the table, looking at mine on the cover. I thought about shutting it and saying I'd show him another day. I could feel how much easier that would be."Will you show me?" he asked."It's not finished.""I didn't ask if it was finished."I turned the pages myself, past two I wasn't ready for, until I found the right one. Then I turned the book round and pushed it across the table, and took my hand away like someone leaving a cup on a counter.It was a small drawing, in soft pencil, a hand around a mug. The fingers were done carefully and the mug had barely been started, and one corner of the page was smudged where I'd rested my wrist. His thumb lay along the handle at a slight angle, pressed down a little at the tip, the way it did when he was concentrating on something else.Damien looked at
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