Loving Me Too Late novel Chapter 2

After Henry left, there was no news from him at all.

I waited for him day and night, but he never came back.

I was starving and couldn't bear it anymore. Despite my weakness, I forced myself to go to the kitchen and prepare something to eat.

There was a pressure cooker on the stove. I opened it and looked inside. There indeed was chicken soup there.

There were also some scraps of meat, along with a chicken neck and chicken butt.

Henry had taken all the best cuts of meat. There wasn't a single piece left.

I froze for a moment before letting out an unbelievable laugh.

I didn't even know what I was still hoping for.

I boiled a bowl of instant pasta with plain water.

That was when Henry came back.

Seeing me wobbling as I carried the bowl of pasta out, he frowned slightly.

"You're pregnant, and you're eating this? How is this nutritious?"

He stepped forward to support me and helped me sit at the dining table. He even thoughtfully pulled out a chair for me.

I glanced at him in surprise.

I sat down and took two bites of the pasta before putting my utensils down.

"I don't have the fortune of enjoying food made by others, so I can only make do with a bowl of pasta."

A trace of awkwardness appeared on Henry's face. He cleared his throat lightly and glanced at me.

"If you hadn't been saying those things to provoke me today, I wouldn't have gotten so mad that I forgot about this. Besides, I left you some chicken, didn't I? You're pregnant—you shouldn't be picky. Meat is meat, you should eat it," he muttered nonstop.

I pressed my temples irritably, and my face grew paler.

"Can you stop talking? Did you forget that just the smell of chicken soup makes me want to vomit? How could I possibly eat it?"

Henry, who was about to lose his temper, suddenly stopped.

It was almost comical.

He really had forgotten about that.

A faint fragrance drifted from his sleeve and reached my nose.

It was Queenie's scent.

A wave of nausea surged up in me.

I couldn't hold it in anymore and ran straight to the bathroom to vomit.

The two bites of pasta I had just eaten all came back up.

After finally regaining some composure, I lifted my head and looked at my weak and disheveled reflection in the mirror.

Behind me, Henry looked a little flustered.

He held onto my arm and asked with concern, "Honey, what's wrong? Do you need to go to the hospital for a check-up?"

I shook off his hand forcefully and said flatly, "No. Just stay away from me."

Henry's face darkened as he was just trying to appease me just now.

When I walked back to the bedroom, he muttered under his breath, "I swear, you're just ungrateful. I was trying to help you, and yet you're acting all high and mighty."