After Henry left, there was no news from him at all.
I waited for him day and night, but he never came back.
I was starving and couldn’t bear it anymore. Despite my weakness, I forced myself to go to the kitchen and prepare something to eat.
There was a pressure cooker on the stove. I opened it and looked inside. There indeed was chicken soup there.
There were also some scraps of meat, along with a chicken neck and chicken butt.
Henry had taken all the best cuts of meat. There wasn’t a single piece left.
I froze for a moment before letting out an unbelievable laugh.
I didn’t even know what I was still hoping for.
I boiled a bowl of instant pasta with plain water.
That was when Henry came back.
Seeing me wobbling as I carried the bowl of pasta out, he frowned slightly.
“You’re pregnant, and you’re eating this? How is this nutritious?”
He stepped forward to support me and helped me sit at the dining table. He even thoughtfully pulled out a chair for me.
I glanced at him in surprise.
I sat down and took two bites of the pasta before putting my utensils down.
“I don’t have the fortune of enjoying food made by others, so I can only make do with a bowl of pasta.”
A trace of awkwardness appeared on Henry’s face. He cleared his throat lightly and glanced at me.
“If you hadn’t been saying those things to provoke me today, I wouldn’t have gotten so mad that I forgot about this. Besides, I left you some chicken, didn’t I? You’re pregnant—you shouldn’t be picky. Meat is meat, you should eat it,” he muttered nonstop.
I pressed my temples irritably, and my face grew paler.
“Can you stop talking? Did you forget that just the smell of chicken soup makes me want to vomit? How could I possibly eat it?”
Henry, who was about to lose his temper, suddenly stopped.
It was almost comical.
He really had forgotten about that.
“I-It’s just… I was busy taking care of Queenie today and forgot. She said she wanted chicken soup, so of course, I had to prioritize the patient.”
As he spoke, Henry seemed to gain more confidence and started mocking me, “Besides, your limbs are still working, and you’re not sick. You just lost a bit of blood. Do you really have to act as if you’re dying?”
My chest tightened with frustration at his words.
