Contract Marriage with My Secret Partner in Crime
Chapter 117: Casual Mention

Chapter 117: Casual Mention

Zephany stood at the stove, spatula in one hand, apron a little too big tied awkwardly around her waist. She had her brows furrowed in concentration, checking the pan every few seconds like she was mentally timing everything. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and there was a smudge of something like flour near her temple.

But she looked focused. Calm. A little nervous maybe, but undeniably determined.

He watched quietly for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips.

She didn’t notice him yet. And for once, he didn’t want to interrupt.

He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, just watching her move.

Zephany was cooking. Really cooking.

And she was doing it all on her own.

Kendrick stayed where he was in the hallway, quietly leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching her. The morning sunlight filtered in through the small kitchen window, casting soft golden hues across the room and highlighting Zephany’s focused expression.

She was humming softly, completely unaware of his presence. Her hands moved with a mix of caution and familiarity. She checked the eggs first, then the vegetables, and finally the rice. Everything was done. Her shoulders relaxed a little as she began setting the plates on the small dining table.

Kendrick smiled to himself. She really remembered everything. The way she tasted the broth, adjusted the flame, even the way she placed the utensils was the same way he did it. It warmed something in his chest that he didn’t quite have the words for.

As she moved to grab the last plate, he finally spoke.

"The food’s looking good. Seems I’m such a good teacher, huh?"

Zephany jumped, nearly dropping the spoon in her hand. She turned quickly, eyes wide. When she saw Kendrick grinning at her, a breathy laugh escaped her lips.

"Kendrick! You scared me."

He walked into the kitchen now, still smiling. "Didn’t mean to. Just... didn’t want to interrupt. You looked serious. Like, life-or-death serious."

She gave a shy laugh and scratched her cheek with the back of her finger. "Well... I didn’t want to burn anything this time."

He walked over to the table, peering at the spread. Scrambled eggs, sautéed onions and bell peppers, rice, and a small dish of chopped fruit. His brows raised in approval.

"You did all this on your own?"

She nodded slowly. "I woke up early. Thought I’d give you a break. You’ve been looking... tired lately. I figured the least I could do was not make you get up at dawn."

Kendrick’s eyes softened. He looked at her for a long second before speaking. "Thanks, Zeph. This... this means a lot."

She lowered her eyes, cheeks faintly pink. "It’s not a big deal. Just breakfast."

He gave a short laugh. "Trust me. Coming from the girl who burned toast a month ago, this is a huge deal."

Zephany laughed with him, her hands still nervously fiddling with the corner of the placemat. His compliment warmed her more than she expected. The food looked good. He said it so casually, but it settled into her chest with surprising weight.

Still, a familiar nervousness crept in. "I’m not sure about the taste, though," she admitted, looking at him cautiously. "I hope it’s at least... edible?"

He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit as he grabbed two forks. "Only one way to find out."

She sat down slowly, her heart thudding in her chest. Kendrick scooped up a forkful of eggs, brought it to his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully.

Zephany waited, watching his expression like her life depended on it.

After a moment, Kendrick looked up, gave her a wink, and said, "Not bad. Honestly? This is good. Really good."

She blinked, unsure she heard him right. "You’re not just saying that to be nice, are you?"

"Would I lie about food?" he asked with mock seriousness.

She laughed again, the tension slipping from her shoulders. She finally picked up her own fork and took a bite. It wasn’t perfect. The seasoning was a little light, and the onions could have cooked a bit longer, but it was good. Better than she expected.

Kendrick took another bite and nodded appreciatively. "You really remembered everything I taught you. Even the rice. Look at that. Not too soft, not too hard. That’s skill."

She looked at him, unsure of what to say. No one had ever praised her like this for something so simple. Her heart fluttered unexpectedly.

"Well," she said softly, "you’re a good teacher."

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I try. But you’re not a bad student either. Persistent."

She smiled, her gaze falling to the plate. "I just... wanted to help. I’ve seen how tired you’ve been. And I know you’ve been working on something serious. Even if you can’t tell me what it is... I wanted to do something. Even if it’s just breakfast."

His smile faded into something softer, more contemplative. He looked at her, studying the curve of her expression, the sincerity in her eyes. Something in him stirred quietly, unexpectedly, knowing that she was also concerned for him.

She looked back at him, then quickly away. Her heart thumped harder.

Kendrick broke the silence. "You know... I think this might be the best breakfast I’ve had in weeks."

Zephany gave a half-laugh. "Now you’re exaggerating."

"I’m serious. It tastes better knowing my wife made it."

She looked at him again, this time meeting his eyes for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Neither of them said anything. The air between them felt different now. Charged, almost.

Zephany bit her lower lip, trying to hide the growing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

’Cause there he goes again, with his casual mention of the word "wife".

He looked down at his plate again, feeling suddenly too aware of the silence. He cleared his throat. "So... uh, dinner later? Should I be worried you’re taking my job for good?"

She laughed. "Maybe. You never know. I might become a better cook than you."

He raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Bold claim. I’ll let you win if you keep making breakfasts like this."

They continue eating in a soft, comfortable quiet. Kendrick refilled her juice without being asked. Zephany passed him the napkin without thinking. It felt natural. Unspoken. Like they had done this a hundred times before.

Neither of them said it, but both started to wonder the same thing in the silence that followed:

When did this start feeling so real?

And what would happen if one day, they found out who the other really was?

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