Chapter 317

“No problem, just a small matter, don’t worry about it,” I said. I finished the Shrimp Bisque in a few sips and asked, “Could you please help me pack another portion?”

When I left the restaurant, the boss insisted on not charging me, but I paid for the three bowls. After all, small businesses aren't easy.

Returning to the parking spot, I found Reynaldo leaning against the car, lost in thought. He usually smoked, but today he’d resisted the urge several times. I wondered if he was truly quitting for pregnancy preparations. A complex feeling washed over me.

I walked over, carrying a takeout container. “Why don’t you sit in the car? It’s so cold outside,” I said, trying hard to smile at his impassive face.

Reynaldo stared at me for a few seconds, then softly asked, “Have you eaten?”

“Mm-hmm,” I nodded.

He opened the car door and said emotionlessly, “Let’s go, it’s late.”

“Wait a minute!” I called out hurriedly.

He furrowed his brows, looked at me coldly, and sneered, “Just tell me, how many times did you make excuses to avoid tonight?”

“What ‘preparing for pregnancy’?” he scoffed. “It’s ridiculous! You simply don’t want children with me at all. Esmeralda, you’re a despicable liar!”

“I will never trust you again, never trust a word you say!” he exclaimed, his anger evident in his gritted teeth.

I felt flustered and instinctively grabbed his arm. “Reynaldo, please don’t be angry. I just wanted you to finish the Shrimp Bisque before we left.”

I’d noticed he hadn’t eaten much at dinner. “You must be hungry too,” I added.

“Enough!” Reynaldo shook off my hand, his gaze filled with disappointment and hatred. He laughed sarcastically, “Stop pretending to care. What kind of woman are you, Esmeralda? I don’t know.”

What kind of woman was I in his heart? Selfish? Malicious? Materialistic? Corrupt?

I chuckled self-deprecatingly, choosing not to argue. “No matter what, just drink this Shrimp Bisque,” I said, “otherwise you’ll have stomach problems later.”

“You don’t need to worry about it!” he said coldly, his tone laced with anger.

I smiled deliberately. “It’s not my responsibility, but since it’s just us, your stomachache will still be my problem.”

“I didn’t ask you to…” he began.

He didn’t want my interference, but I couldn’t forget his assistant’s instructions before we left. If I ignored his stomach, I would be condemned.

“Mr. Humphrey,” I pleaded, “no matter how much you dislike me, don’t hurt me like this.”

Reynaldo stared at me coldly, his hand gripping the car door. I took two steps back silently, anticipating a possible blow.

I handed him the takeout box. “Mr. Humphrey, have some. It’s really good. I had two bowls.”

“Eating so much, what’s the use? The place that should grow hasn’t grown at all,” Reynaldo snorted.

I pursed my lips, silent. So, in the eyes of these men, what exactly should be long, and what shouldn't?

Under my insistence, Reynaldo finally ate the Shrimp Bisque.