"Dinner?" Theodore’s heart sank. He had never set foot in a kitchen, let alone tried to cook anything. Bella had chosen the perfect punishment, and now he was stuck.
How was he supposed to pull this off? But he knew he had to at least try. He wanted to make things right with her, to earn her forgiveness.
Forcing a smile despite the nervous flutter in his chest, he nodded. "Okay, I’ll cook," he said, trying to sound confident. "You must be tired from your journey. Rest for a while. I’ll go prepare dinner for you."
He quickly left the room before Bella could say anything else.
Bella raised an eyebrow as he watched him leave. She had never seen him enter the kitchen before. "Does he even know cooking?" She couldn’t help but wonder.
The eagerness on his face had been hard to miss. Maybe he did know a thing or two. She shrugged, amused.
"Let’s see what hidden talent he has been keeping secret," she mumbled, dropping her bag on the bed. "I need a shower first."
Inside the kitchen...
Theodore stood there, sleeves rolled up, staring intently at his phone propped up against the countertop. A YouTube video was played, showing a cheerful chef tossing noodles in a pan with effortless grace. Theodore, however, was far from graceful. His brow furrowed in concentration.
"Okay, noodles... boiling," he muttered to himself, glancing nervously at the pot bubbling away on the stove.
He fumbled with the packet of instant noodles, trying to follow the instructions. He tore open the packet and, in his rush, spilled half of the seasoning all over the counter. Shaking his head, he grabbed a wooden spoon, stirring the noodles in the pot with far more enthusiasm than necessary.
"Ouch!" Theodore yelped as boiling water splashed over the edge and onto his hand. He quickly jerked back, shaking his hand and gritting his teeth in pain.
Just as he tried to regain control of the situation, his phone buzzed with a notification. Startled, Theodore fumbled, knocking the phone off the counter and onto the floor with a thud.
He muttered under his breath, bending down to retrieve it while trying to juggle a pair of tongs in one hand. He glanced back at the stove. The water was dangerously close to boiling over.
As he stood in a hurry, his elbow caught the pan on the stove. The noodles sloshed, but Theodore managed to save them just in time.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of clumsy maneuvers, the noodles were in a bowl. But they looked like a sad, soggy mess. The sauce was uneven, clumped in some spots and watery in others, and the bottom of the pan held a burnt mass of noodles that had stuck and charred.
Theodore stared at the bowl of noodles in dismay. The smell of charred seasoning mixed with the burnt remnants of something unidentifiable filled the air.
Theodore knew there was no way he could let Bella eat this. His heart sank a little, but he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
After a moment of contemplation, Theodore grabbed his phone and quickly texted Skyler: ’I need takeout. Something that looks homemade – maybe noodles and meatballs. Fast!’
While waiting, he set about cleaning the kitchen as fast as he could, scrubbing away the evidence of his culinary disaster. Pots and pans clattered as he rushed to make the space look normal again. His nerves were shot, but amid the chaos, he couldn’t help but chuckle at how absurd the situation had become. His first attempt at cooking had turned into an unexpected adventure.
Minutes later, his phone buzzed with a message from Skyler: ’Your takeout is here. Open the door.’
Theodore hurried to the front door, practically yanking it open. There stood Skyler, holding a bag of food and wearing a bemused expression. Theodore flashed him a sheepish grin and gratefully accepted the bag.
"Thank you," Theodore mumbled, his face flushed with relief. "You’re a lifesaver."
Skyler, however, didn’t seem too pleased. His scowl deepened as he eyed Theodore. "I asked you to go out to dinner with me, and you turned me down. Now you call me to deliver takeout? What’s going on?"
Theodore was worried Bella would come down and see Skyler here. "I’ll explain everything later," he said hastily, trying to keep his voice low. "But right now, you need to go."
He practically shoved him away.
"Uh!" Before Skyler could say anything, Theodore closed the door in his face and rushed back to the kitchen.
Theodore carefully transferred the takeout into their finest dishes, ensuring that the perfectly fried chicken balls and the noodles looked as appetizing as possible. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart.
"Bella will love this," he murmured, feeling a mix of pride and nervousness. "But I need to hide this. I can’t let her suspect that I didn’t cook these." He crumpled the takeout bag and tossed it into the trash, unaware that the bill had slipped out and remained visible.
He busied himself in cleaning the counter. Just as he was wiping the last of the sauce from the counter, he heard Bella’s footsteps approaching.
Theodore quickly set the table, placing the plates carefully. When Bella approached, he greeted her with an exaggeratedly bright smile, his confidence almost too evident.
"Ah, just in time!" he said, enthusiastically waving her toward the table and pulling out a chair for her. "Have a seat, my dear wife. Let me serve you tonight. I specially made these for you."
Bella raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You really cooked?"
"Of course," Theodore said, puffing up his chest with feigned pride. "Noodles and chicken balls, all by yours truly." He gestured grandly toward the table. "It took a bit of work, but I think I’ve mastered it."
Bella’s gaze swept over the neatly arranged meal. The noodles and meatballs looked enticing, but her eyes glinted with suspicion. She never knew Theodore was such a cook, and a hint of disbelief colored her expression.
Before she could probe further, Theodore swiftly guided her to the chair and set the plate in front of her. "Start eating," he urged, his eyes fixed on her with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.
Bella took her first bite, savoring the flavors. "Hmm, the meatballs are perfectly cooked," she said, though her eyes twinkled with a mixture of skepticism and amusement. "You’re telling me you made all of this?"
Theodore’s smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, maintaining his charade. "Every last bit," he said, trying to sound convincing. "I hope you enjoy it."
As Bella continued to eat, her initial suspicion melted away, replaced by genuine appreciation. Theodore watched her with a mix of relief and pride, hoping that his little deception would go unnoticed for now.
"Well, I didn’t know you were so good at cooking," she praised him. "Maybe next time, you can teach me how to make these famous chicken balls."
Theodore let out a laugh, hiding the fact that he had been holding his breath. He was relieved that she didn’t suspect anything. "Anytime," he said, his insides tightening with a knot. "Why don’t you have some more?"
Theodore leaned over to serve Bella more of the chicken balls. Bella’s eyes fell on his hands and her smile froze. There were burn marks—red, angry streaks across his fingers and wrists that made her heart skip a beat.
"Theodore! What happened to your hands?" Bella exclaimed. "You burned your hands!"
"Uh...these are nothing," Theodore said quickly, trying to downplay the situation.
"Nothing? You burned yourself." She immediately stood up from the table, abandoning her plate. Before Theodore could react, she grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the kitchen sink. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶
"It’s nothing, Bella. Just a little cooking mishap," Theodore said, trying to laugh it off, but his nervous smile didn’t convince her. "I am fine."
She turned on the cold water, guiding his hands under the running stream. "This looks painful!" she scolded softly, her eyes scanning the burns. She rummaged through the cabinet for some ointment and bandages.
As she moved aside to find supplies, her gaze fell on a crumpled receipt partially hidden on the floor near the trash bin. The restaurant’s logo was visible, and her frown deepened. She bent down to pick it up, carefully unfolding the receipt.
The bill listed "noodles" and "chicken balls" along with the takeout charge.
Her mouth formed an incredulous ’O’ as she looked up at Theodore, who had gone unusually silent. Theodore’s face reddened with embarrassment as he glanced at the receipt in her hand and then down at his burned fingers still under the cold water. His façade of confidence crumbled as the truth came to light, leaving him uncertain about her reaction.
A heavy silence settled between them, broken only by the steady hum of water from the kitchen faucet.
"Care to explain this?" she asked, holding up the bill.
"I—uh..." Theodore stammered, his cheeks flushing with shame. "Okay, I’ll admit it. I ordered takeout."
Bella blinked, her brow furrowing as she tried to process the confession. "But... why?"
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