Alvin shook his head helplessly. As soon as the spoon touched his tongue, he got to know how terrible it was so he quickly stopped Anya who had taken a spoonful. He is being good to her and she didn't appreciate it. He wasn't a cold-hearted monster to take the food away from the mouth. Well, not for her at least.
Seeing her nauseous even after washing her mouth, he quickly took his juice and went to the ensuite. Leaning on the counter next to her, he held the tip of the glass between her lips and helped her drink it.
When his attention was too focused on her pink tender lips parting and holding the glass, his Adam's apple bobbed and he quickly shifted his gaze. He wasn't sure when he would end up grabbing her by the neck and tasting her luscious lips.
He silently breathed through his lips while his eyes wandered on her face. Then he noticed the sheer layer of dampness on her forehead. He used his folded shirt sleeves by gently dabbing the back of his forearm on her forehead.
Anya smelled the citrus which controlled her nauseousness to some extent. She obediently took a few sips without bothering about his hand.
Her stomach stopped lurching but there was lingering pain that she didn't show on her face. Breathing loudly and deeply, she glared at him, "Alvin Matthews, you are an awful cook." She bluntly expressed.
In her mind, she started thinking about how to differentiate his actions out of anger and concern. He definitely wanted to save her from that awful taste but the anger on his face morphed the situation. Sigh.
Alvin flicked on her forehead for her assumption. He walked out of the ensuite with a hand in his pocket and said, "I don't know how to cook." He sipped the remaining orange juice.
"Then why did you cook? To ruin my taste buds?" She grumpily followed him. Behind her fake grumpiness, she was happy to know he cooked for her.
Alvin glanced at her and faintly sighed at her imagination. He deadpanned, "I didn't cook." He had asked his men to cook something light as they hadn't eaten for more than twelve hours. He didn't expect them to be so awful.
She insisted it was him, "I don't believe you. Hmph." He was alone after leaving the country. How could he don't know? He is probably still awful at cooking and embarrassed to accept it.
"Then don't." He knew she was trying to make him accept he was a bad cook when he didn't cook.
She didn't back down. She followed him and questioned doubtfully. "Then what were you eating abroad in the beginning?" He was alone so he should have tried some simple dishes, right?
Alvin paused at her words before resuming his movements. He poured water into a glass and handed it to her. He responded to her question without hiding from her. "Bread."
He just ate bread for a few months. Then when he got a little stable income he was eating whatever his other employees were getting him. It was certainly not nutritious food. He started to eat proper food after Ean joined him as his assistant and his work was more than stable. He didn't have the luxury of time to try cooking. For more than twenty months, he had just a room, a mattress on the floor, and a few pairs of clothes.
Anya's grip on the glass tightened hearing him, then her lips softly curled, that smile reached her eyes. She drank water while thinking Alvin was in his position by his hard work. He earned every penny he was spending. He wasn't a Matthew who used family to build his fort, absolutely not. He was Alvin who built his empire with his sweat, hard work, sleepless nights, empty stomach, and sacrifices.
He could have become an efficient employee somewhere in an IT company and worked for others leading a stable life, having a girlfriend or wife. Nevertheless, his dreams and plans weren't so small. He is made for bigger things unlike ordinary people like her.
Although his empire wasn't as massive as Matthews which was built over centuries, Matthews couldn't touch Alvin's empire.
Alvin, who was expecting pity or sympathy, got her admiration. It felt good. Even his friend had pitied him. Anyway, he poked her head with an indifferent face as if he didn't know what was going on in her mind. He changed the water glass to milk glass in her hands.
Hungry, Anya drank the milk on the go. She followed him out as she lectured him, "Alvin, you should learn cooking. It's basic for survival. My son is just five, he can cook eggs in two ways. He makes instant noodles. So you should try cooking with eggs, noodles, stir fry vegetables…"
Alvin paused after exiting the main door. She came in front of him on her own and he asked before she could continue, "You make your son cook? I thought you were the sweetest mother." He gave her a distasteful look. "And what's with these instant noodles? It's unhealthy."
Anya: "..."
Anya felt like she was getting scolded by her son's father for making their son work. She snorted and walked as she spoke proudly of her son, "My son is a gentleman. He accompanies me in the kitchen. He always watched me cooking so he wanted to try making something for me." She would never leave her son with a knife, fire, or electric devices like a microwave oven or grill.
She swirled around and added, "And instant noodles may not be healthy but it's alright to try it occasionally. My baby loves to share noodles with Krystie." Anya avoids instant food too but she doesn't like to be so strict. If she wasn't a mother, she would probably still be eating those tasty noodles, so she allows such food occasionally.
Krystle eats noodles with her son because Anya stops them from over-eating junk. That helps Krystle's model-like figure to be maintained.
Hearing her happily speaking about her son, Alvin was jealous of her son, well, that's his son. He gritted his teeth and walked in front when she twirled around and continued to walk. He grabbed her wrist and took her to the kitchen. He never had the time to watch, learn or cook.
'What's the big deal? I can do better than her son.'
Anya jogged behind Alvin, "What's wrong? Alvin…"
'Did I make him angry by calling Zane my son but not his?' She wondered.
Before she could get nervous, Alvin brought her to the kitchen and ordered her, "Fine, teach me." He pointed at the eggs as she said them as easy.
Anya: "..."
Looking at eggs, Anya craved to fill her stomach before talking about the dreaded topic - Zane's custody. So she happily agreed to teach him, "Alright."
Anya just explained to him how to cook hard and soft-boiled eggs. Then she grabbed a pan to teach him a simple egg omelet.
She cracked two eggs into a small bowl, whisked them, and spread it on a heated pan. She sprinkled a little salt. She flipped it after a few seconds and served it on the plate. "Simple, right?"
Overconfident Alvin grabbed an egg and repeated her actions. He smashed it on the counter while trying to crack the shell.
Alvin, Anya, and the egg: "..."
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