Chapter 1112:
“Enjoy it while it’s still hot,” Christina said softly.
“Okay!” Dylan replied, picking up his fork and beginning to eat at an unhurried pace.
As she watched him savor each bite, she couldn’t help but wonder if her cooking had truly improved. “Is it really that good?” she asked, her curiosity slipping out before she could hold it back.
Dylan nodded eagerly. “Yes! Anything you make is amazing.”
His words deepened the smile already playing across Christina’s lips. She knew he was simply being kind. Her cooking, in truth, was hardly impressive—closer to terrible than average. Yet Dylan never once bruised her spirit with harsh remarks. From the day they met, he had only ever encouraged her.
Christina propped her chin in her hands, smiling warmly. Watching him eat brought her a quiet joy she couldn’t quite explain.
Dylan continued with his meal, glancing up now and then to meet her eyes with a smile. Their gaze locked, and the warmth they shared filled the room. Moments like these carried a rare comfort, and Dylan treasured them deeply.
“All done,” Dylan said at last, placing the fork neatly down.
Christina handed him a napkin. “Wipe your mouth.”
“Alright,” Dylan answered, following her instruction without protest.
At night, Christina and Dylan lay in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms.
After some time, Christina slowly opened her eyes. Seeing that he was fast asleep, she carefully tried to move his arm aside. But the instant she did, he pulled her back against him, a faint frown creasing his face.
Christina held her breath, her body tensing as she made sure she hadn’t woken him. After a pause, she tried again, gently easing his arm away.
This time, she managed to slip out of his embrace and tucked a pillow into his arms. He instinctively hugged it close.
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Christina couldn’t help but smile. Watching him for a lingering moment, she quietly got out of bed and tiptoed toward the door.
The moment she left, Dylan’s eyes opened. He stared at the closed door, his gaze thoughtful and distant. He knew exactly where Christina was headed—the study. Edwin often left her projects that required decisions for the Scott Group, and she never failed to shoulder the work.
Pressing his lips together, Dylan contemplated how to “return to normal” soon and take back the responsibilities that were his. He hated seeing Christina wake in the middle of the night just to work.
A plan began to take shape in his mind—something he would set in motion in the coming days. He was fully aware that once he returned to his old self, their closeness might fade, but even that weighed less heavily than watching Christina exhaust herself. The Scott Group was his burden, not hers. She had her own career to nurture.
The Global Fashion Design Competition was drawing near, and he knew Christina would need her days to sketch, to refine, to polish every detail of her creations.
Her talent was undeniable, her style distinct. He was certain she would claim the championship. In his eyes, even the discarded drafts were worthy of use. Any one of those abandoned could easily take the national championship. Had he not seen her work with his own eyes, he might never have believed anyone could possess such talent. From the very first sketch he had witnessed, he had been profoundly impressed. And time after time, she continued to astonish him with her brilliance.
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