“I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”Margot shoved a bundle of green onions into the cart like they’d personally offended her.I kept my eyes on the list in my hand, scanning for garlic. “It’s not that big of a deal.”“Oh, it’s a huge deal,” she shot back. “We are currently grocery shopping because you decided—based on advice from a man you’ve known for what, five minutes?—to cook for your emotionally-constipated husband who hasn’t been home in days.”I reached for a can of peeled tomatoes and dropped it into the cart. “He was just trying to help.”“Uh-huh. And now I’m elbow-deep in parsley because some mysterious café guy told you to ‘try differently.’”I smiled a little. “You remember exactly what he said.”“I remember nonsense when I hear it,” Margot muttered, adding basil to the cart anyway.I sighed. “Daniel wasn’t being preachy. He was being… decent. That’s rare.”She didn’t argue with that. Instead, she picked up a pack of pasta and raised an eyebrow. “Fettucine?”I nodded
Huling Na-update : 2025-07-10 Magbasa pa