The Night I Left, He Turned Grey

That morning, the groceries Leila Jennings had ordered were delivered to her door. The delivery leader handed her an invoice and a payment code.

After paying, she had them carry everything into the kitchen. There were vegetables, various meats, and seafood.

’Since this was a meal to express her gratitude, it had to be a lavish spread.’

According to the notes Cherry Cole had given her, Nathaniel Cole liked Western food.

She knew how to cook Western food as well, just not as well as she cooked Chinese food.

Sean Sinclair liked Chinese food, especially fish.

Cherry Cole had left early that morning, leaving Leila alone in the massive villa.

Before heading into the kitchen, Leila Jennings sent a formal invitation to Nathaniel Cole via text. It began with "Hello, President Cole," stated the time and location in the middle, and ended with her own name.

All in all, it was very formal.

Like a condensed invitation.

After receiving a brief reply, Leila Jennings sent another message.

[Could I trouble you to bring my suitcase over later, President Cole? Thank you.]

[Okay.]

Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang.

Leila Jennings, wearing an apron and still holding a shrimp in her hand, shuffled out in her slippers.

She opened the door.

Nathaniel Cole stood at the door, impeccably dressed, holding a basket of fruit and a bottle of red wine.

"President Cole? You’re early."

"Not at all." Nathaniel Cole glanced toward the kitchen; if anything, he felt he was late.

He strode inside.

Leila’s mind was on her suitcase. She looked around, but all she saw was the fruit and red wine.

"President Cole, did you leave my suitcase outside?"

Nathaniel Cole stopped in his tracks. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes, but when he turned to face her, his gaze was as placid as still water. "I forgot."

"You forgot?"

"Yes."

Seeing her crestfallen expression, Nathaniel Cole immediately added, "I won’t forget next time."

"Thank you, President Cole. Please have a seat. I’ll be as quick as I can." Leila Jennings turned and went back into the kitchen.

Nathaniel Cole took off his suit jacket, leaving him in a black shirt with a wine-red tie. A silver mechanical watch was fastened around his wrist. The look was a clash of cool composure and fiery passion—elegant and alluringly restrained.

His long legs carried him toward the kitchen.

With the sound of the kitchen door sliding open and then shut, Leila Jennings turned to see Nathaniel Cole standing beside her. He was rolling up his sleeves, revealing firm, powerful forearms.

’No wonder he’d carried her out of the car so effortlessly the other day, even managing to close the door with one hand.’

"President Cole?"

"Give me something to do." He glanced at all the ingredients laid out in the kitchen, surprised by the sheer amount. "Are you making all of this?"

"Not all of it." Leila Jennings stared at him, momentarily stunned. "Can you even do this?"

"Whether I’m capable is something Jennings will have to find out for herself." Nathaniel Cole’s words were ambiguous, tinged with a deeper, suggestive meaning.

However, Leila Jennings was completely oblivious when it came to flirting.

She had no experience in that department.

’He was the heir to a top-tier family,’ Leila thought. ’He probably couldn’t handle kitchen work and would just get in the way.’

"President Cole, perhaps it’s better if you just wait on the sofa."

Nathaniel Cole retorted coolly, "Who are you looking down on?"

He expertly took a basket of produce and began prepping the vegetables at the counter.

’He prepped them skillfully and knew to wash them with salt. He clearly knew his way around a kitchen.’

Leila was completely stunned.

Nathaniel Cole sensed the question in her eyes. He shot a quick glance at her before looking away and uttering a single word: "Ask."

Leila asked what was on her mind. "Why do you know your way around a kitchen, President Cole?"

"Don’t ask." Nathaniel would never admit he’d been press-ganged into service by his own father since he was a child.

His father would haul him, his own son, out of bed in the middle of the night just to help make his mother a late-night snack, claiming, ’What’s the point of having a son if you don’t put him to work?’

He couldn’t cook, not really.

But he was an expert at prepping and washing vegetables.

"Okay." Wisely, Leila Jennings didn’t press the issue.

With Nathaniel Cole’s help, things went much faster. He seemed to have a sixth sense for what she needed, handing her ingredients and utensils just as she was about to reach for them.

She made a hearty Italian seafood soup, avocado garlic shrimp, orange-glazed chicken wings, pineapple sweet and sour ribs, a pumpkin and tomato bolognese pasta, asparagus beef rolls, thick-cut sirloin steak, stir-fried squid with bell peppers, salt and pepper razor clams, and finally, a prosciutto and burrata platter.

The thinly sliced prosciutto was carefully rolled into rose-like flowers and arranged around the cheese.

As she was rolling the prosciutto, she suddenly froze.

She had learned the art of plating specifically for Sean Sinclair. He’d loved it.

"Hm?" Nathaniel Cole’s eyes questioned her pause.

Leila shook her head. She stopped making the prosciutto flowers and then deliberately unrolled the ones she had just made.

Nathaniel Cole shot her a meaningful glance but said nothing.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

He picked up the final dish and walked out of the kitchen.

Watching his back as he carried the dish out, Leila felt an indescribable, strange pang in her heart, followed by a wave of bitterness.

In her four years with the Sinclair family, Sean Sinclair had never once set foot in the kitchen, let alone carried out a dish.

She slowly untied her apron and walked to the dining table.

She then remembered the fruit basket Nathaniel Cole had brought and reached for it. At the same moment, he reached for it too, and their fingers brushed in mid-air.

Leila snatched her hand back.

"Let me." Nathaniel Cole picked up the fruit basket and went back into the kitchen. He took a white porcelain platter from a cabinet, arranged the washed fruit on it, and brought it back out.

They were half an hour earlier than she had planned, but it was time for lunch anyway.

Nathaniel Cole tried the steak first.

Leila couldn’t help but watch him. "The notes from Cherry said you like your steak medium-rare, President Cole."

"So, Cherry came to you to deliver a list of my food preferences." Nathaniel Cole chewed the steak elegantly, finishing one piece and moving on to a second.

She didn’t need him to say a word; Leila knew he was satisfied.

’Only if President Cole was satisfied could she consider the favor truly repaid.’

The two ate in silence.

Halfway through the meal.

Her phone vibrated. It was another message from Claire Rhodes, letting her know the morning class was over.

「Meanwhile.」

Sean Sinclair checked the time on his watch. He was holding a bouquet of flowers with a gift nestled inside. He opened the car door and got out.

He walked up to the reception desk of the institute where he’d signed Leila Jennings up for classes.

Dressed in a well-tailored suit, with a smile on his handsome face and a bouquet of roses in his arms, he was an eye-catching sight.

The receptionist blushed after just one look at him.

"Sir, are you here to wait for someone?"

"I’m here to pick up my wife," Sean Sinclair said, looking at the receptionist. "I’m Mr. Sinclair. My wife’s name is Leila Jennings."

"Oh, so you’re Mr. Sinclair!" the receptionist said immediately. "Mrs. Sinclair will be out as soon as her class is finished. You can have a seat over here while you wait, Mr. Sinclair."

"Thank you."

"You’re welcome. Let me get you a glass of water, Mr. Sinclair." The receptionist brought him a cup of hot water and said eagerly, "Mrs. Sinclair is always so punctual. Her teacher says she’s the most attentive student in the class. Are you and Mrs. Sinclair trying for a baby?"

"We are." Sean Sinclair smiled, his gaze drifting to the hallway as people began to file out of the classrooms.

Claire Rhodes, her hair down and a mask on her face, was walking while looking down and replying to a message on her phone. After she finished, she stretched her neck and started chatting with the person beside her.

Just as she neared the reception area, she suddenly heard someone call out, "Mrs. Sinclair!"

The receptionist walked over to her, beaming. "Mrs. Sinclair, you’re so lucky! Mr. Sinclair came especially to pick you up, and he brought a surprise."

Claire Rhodes stopped dead in her tracks.

"Who?"

"Your husband, Mr. Sinclair."

"Leila," a pleasant voice called out, directed at her.