The Reborn Wife Of The Tyrant CEO
Chapter 379 - 375

Chapter 379: Chapter 375

"I’m fine." I suppressed the fleeting thought that raced through my mind. I wasn’t sure if others also wore those rosy red diving suits. After all, we weren’t the only couples out on the waves.

I was fine; my palm just needed some medical attention. The yacht was equipped with a first-aid kit, and Jones carefully treated my wound and bandaged it up.

By the time we had finished, it was time for lunch. Catherine proposed, "Damon, why don’t we prepare lunch here with Ms. Brooks and her partner? What do you

think?"

She and Damon had caught some fresh seafood, which she’d brought on deck.

"Let’s just head back to the hotel," Jones declined quickly.

But I agreed, "It’s okay. Let’s all eat together. My hand is injured, so I might not be much help with the cooking."

Catherine laughed off my concern, "No worries. I’ll do the cooking. You guys can sample my culinary skills."

Without waiting for a response, she changed into more comfortable clothes and began preparing the meal.

I sat quietly, watching Catherine hustle about. The open-air kitchen on the deck was well-equipped, and Catherine seemed to handle everything with ease. Her skills suggested she cooked frequently.

She had been living abroad with her child, and given her affection for the child, it didn’t surprise me that she’d learned to cook.

"Damon, could you get me some ginger?" Catherine asked gently.

"Sure." Damon had never been much of a cook, but he seemed to be doing fine as Catherine’s assistant, handling tasks like washing the vegetables.

Jones sat next to me, not moving unless Catherine called him over.

"Why did you put that in so soon?" Catherine suddenly asked, sounding both amused and slightly exasperated.

Damon looked surprised, "Wasn’t it time to put it in?"

"We need to wait until the oil is hot. You’re so sharp at work, but still a bit clueless in the kitchen," Catherine sounded both frustrated and fond. "I remember the first time you made me eggs. You put them in before the oil was hot. The taste was... well, it wasn’t great, but I’ve found myself missing that taste over the years."

So, the first time he cooked wasn’t for me. I laughed to myself and turned to admire the sea, tuning out their conversation.

Suddenly, I felt Jones take my hand, asking, "Does it hurt much?".

It did hurt a little, but it was bearable. I nodded, "Yeah, but it’s okay. Don’t worry."

Catherine overheard and teased, "Jones, are you feeling heartbroken? Seeing your wife’s hand injured, wish the wound was on you instead?"

She always made a point of highlighting Jones and my relationship, presumably to remind Damon of his current status. But she was overthinking. Damon had already chosen her, which meant his feelings for her were still strong.

Jones tightened his grip on my hand slightly, "Yes, it hurts. I should’ve taken better care of her."

"It’s not your fault. It’s just strange how that rope appeared underwater and wrapped around my foot," I said, watching Catherine carefully for her reaction.

She sighed, "People these days have no regard for the environment. It’s probably some discarded trash. It’s normal for ropes to knot up in the currents. You just had some bad luck, Ms. Brooks."

I didn’t respond and just looked at my wounded hand.

Damon’s gaze sometimes rested on me, but it was normal, devoid of any extra emotion. It was as if his panic when he dived to save me was just my imagination.

I was sure he still had some unique feelings for me, but it didn’t matter.

"Do you remember when we first got together, we encountered a white stray dog? It would always hide under your car whenever you came to pick me up. I’d have to coax it out with imitation crab sticks," Catherine was lost in her sweet memories with Damon, her expression full of girlish charm. "You always said that those crab sticks were fake and that they were not real crab meat. Now we have real crabs, but that little dog is gone."

"We can always get another one," Damon replied.

"Leo mentioned that you used to have a dog. I heard it was a white Tibetan mastiff. Where is it now?" Catherine asked curiously.

Damon looked surprised, "How did he know?" and then turned to look at me.

Following Damon’s gaze, Catherine also looked at me, then broke into a smile, "He heard it from his grandma. He wants a dog, and his grandma told him about the white dog you used to have. He remembered it and told me."

The Tibetan mastiff, Daisy, was now at my house, living with my parents. I wondered if she still remembered Damon, her first owner.

Dogs have good memories. They always remember the scent of their owners.

She should still recognize Damon.

"That dog was given away," Damon answered simply, "It was just a foster pet."

"I see. Should we get a puppy for Leo when we go back?" Catherine suggested.

"Suke, whatever you say," Damon answered, his voice steady but his words filled with indulgence.

Catherine beamed at Damon, their love bubble almost drifting over to where I was sitting.

I chose not to dwell too much on it. It wasn’t worth adding to my own distress.

In the time it took for my lunch to be prepared, I reached out to the hotel manager. I had added him on WhatsApp after the elevator incident the night before, and then I asked him about the diving suits. It turned out that they were all a uniform blend of gray and black. There were no rosy red ones, unless a guest brought their own.

I put down my phone and looked across the table at Catherine.

Was it her? Did she really just stand by and do nothing? A memory flickered in the back of my mind. The moment I felt something tangle around my foot,

I had sensed something swimming below me. Back then, I thought it was a marine creature, and there was a dash of red.

Could it have been Catherine after all?

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