Chapter 101
Chapter 101: Sella, let me order you a portion of Dal Makhani, Sahi Paneer with Butter Naan.
I remember when you were abroad, you liked to eat makhani with butter naan the most, and you also ordered a glass of sweet lassi.
As for dessert, Emily looked at the menu and asked, what dessert do you like? Is it Gulab Jamun or Rasmalai? It wasnt Stella who answered… Instead, it was the man sitting across from her.
At the same time, Tristan also glanced at the menu and ordered for Stella.
Give her a portion of jeera rice and boondi raita, he said with a chuckle.
Emily, sitting beside them, couldnt contain her laughter.
Mr.
Davis, dont you think youre ordering too much? Its not just butter naan with Dal Makhani and Sahi Paneer, but also jeera rice with raita.
Stella doesnt have such a big appetite! Is that so? Tristan replied calmly.
Then why do I remember that shes always had a big appetite? His words were as natural as if they were undeniable facts.
Emily burst out laughing.
Stella, sitting beside them, felt incredibly awkward.
Didnt they realize they were going too far with teasing her? Unfortunately, all the dishes they ordered were indeed her favorites.
In the past, Stella and Emily had spent a lot of time together, so Emily knew well what Stella liked to eat.
And, similarly, so did Tristan.
Back when she lived with the Richard family, every menu was reviewed by Tristan.
He always remembered what she ordered.
It was like he had to inspect everything, even the dishes others chose.
Stella didnt say anything, but it was Emily who spoke first, I didnt know Stella had a big appetite! When we were in France, she barely ate anything.
She always gave her food to Adrian, so I thought her appetite was small.
Unforgettable stories on gⱯlnσν????????s․ço???? Is that so? Tristan asked.
Though his words were directed at Emily, his eyes were already fixed on Stella.
It was hard to tell whom he was actually asking, but the gaze he directed toward Stella carried an unreadable emotion, maybe even a faint trace of pity.
When Stella met his eyes, she quickly looked away.
It felt like a mistake for them to make eye contact, even for a second.
Emily, observing the interaction, couldnt help but feel like a matchmaker watching her efforts take shape.
When the dishes arrived, Tristan, as usual, served Stella first before preparing his own plate.
He neatly arranged all the dishes they ordered for her and placed the plate in front of her.
Stella didnt know what to do.
She couldnt decide whether to eat or not.
If she ate, it would seem like she was accepting his kindness.
But if she didnt, it would seem rude.
Emily nudged her.
Stella, what are you waiting for? Eat quickly, we dont have much time left for our lunch break! You dont want to be late, right? Reluctantly, Stella started eating.
She really didnt want to be lateafter all, last time she had been late, her boss had docked half a days pay.
Of course, that time, she wasnt actually late.
He just wanted to make things difficult for her.
In the end, though, she was the one who had to suffer.
So, she quietly ate her food.
How is it? Is it delicious? Emily asked with a teasing smile.
Is it your favorite? Stella, still chewing, felt too embarrassed to answer and just nudged Emily to focus on eating.
Thanks to Emilys presence, the meal wasnt as awkward as it could have been.
She was helping to ease the tension between them.
But then Tristan broke the silence again.
How was Stellas life in France? he asked, addressing Emily.
Stella, sitting across from him, grew more uncomfortable by the second.
Why didnt he ask her directly? She was sitting right there! Instead, he asked Emily? Emily responded truthfully, though her words carried a hint of bitterness.
She glanced at Stella with concern before she spoke.
Stellas life wasnt easy in France.
When she first arrived, she was unfamiliar with everything.
On top of that, she was pregnant.
Finding a place to live was difficult… she even spent several nights on the street.
Emily spoke with a tone full of pity.
Stellas eyes nearly popped out of her head.
Since when had she ever slept on the streets? How could she not remember that? .
.
.