Chapter 37: Clara Pushed Open Her Apartment Door and Tossed the Keys

Clara pushed open her apartment door and tossed the keys into the glass bowl by the entryway. She headed straight for the refrigerator, pulling open the door to inspect its contents.

Plenty of groceries remained from yesterday's shopping. She mentally planned tonight's menu: braised beef brisket with potatoes, sweet and sour ribs, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, and a simple stir-fried vegetable dish would suffice.

The rhythmic sound of chopping soon filled the kitchen. Owen stood nearby, watching her precise knife skills with wide-eyed admiration.

"Not many women these days know how to cook like this," he remarked. "Most girls I know survive on takeout."

Clara didn't look up. "Just habit." With a flick of her wrist, perfectly cubed potatoes tumbled into the pot.

Owen glanced around the immaculate apartment. Professional books lined the living room shelves in neat rows. His gaze caught on an anomalous title among the medical texts—Introduction to Quantum Mechanics.

Realizing he'd been staring at a woman's private belongings, he quickly averted his eyes.

Forty minutes later, four steaming dishes graced the table. The ribs glistened with caramelized glaze, the golden scrambled eggs with tomatoes looked fluffy and fresh, their aromas mingling deliciously.

Owen bit into a rib and his eyes widened. "This is incredible!" He shoveled rice into his mouth. "Better than award-winning restaurants!"

Clara smiled faintly. "Slow down. No one's fighting you for it."

"Seriously, whoever marries you must've done something amazing in a past life—" Owen's words cut off as urgent knocking erupted at the door.

Clara set down her chopsticks, brow furrowing. "I'll get it."

The door opened to reveal Victoria grabbing her wrist. "Come to the hospital now! My brother's hospitalized with a bleeding ulcer!"

Clara didn't move. "We broke up."

"Are you insane?" Victoria's voice rose sharply. "He needs you! He drank himself sick because you ignored his calls!"

"He ended it." Clara's tone remained calm.

Victoria trembled with anger. "Six years! He supported you for six years! The mansion, designer clothes, black card—did he ever stint on anything? Don't play the noble act now!"

"Finished?" Clara reached to close the door.

"Fine!" Victoria kicked the doorframe viciously. "You'll regret this!"

As footsteps retreated, Clara's grip on the doorknob tightened until her knuckles whitened.

"Um..." Owen stood awkwardly in the living room. "Should we...keep eating?"

When Clara turned back, she'd reassembled her smile. "Let me refill your rice."

The rest of the meal passed in heavy silence. Owen hurriedly finished his last bites and made a tactful exit.

While washing dishes, Clara stared blankly at the soap bubbles, Victoria's words stabbing like knives through her heart. The faucet's rushing water drowned out everything but her thoughts.