Unmasking Mrs. Newton's Secret Identities novel Chapter 1538

Abigail shook her head, brushing off the suggestion. "You're overthinking it. He's just more concerned about his boss—who happens to be my best friend."

"How about a bet?" Helen proposed, her interest piqued.

"A bet on what?" Abigail leaned in, always ready for a bit of fun.

"Let's wager on whether Taylor cares more about you than he does about his boss," Helen said bluntly.

Abigail hesitated, feeling conflicted. Betting on a man's feelings felt risky, especially when Helen offered such a strong contrast.

"Maybe not," Abigail replied, fidgeting with her spoon as she stirred her drink. "We're just friends, and I don't want to complicate things unnecessarily."

"That doesn't sound like you at all," Helen said, regarding her with curiosity. Was this still the brave soul who had walked away from her family to embrace her independence?

Abigail slowly turned to her, wearing a thoughtful expression. "Why do I have the feeling you know me better than I know myself?" she asked, clearly puzzled.

Realizing she had revealed too much, Helen quickly masked it with a sheepish grin. "I guess this is what they call an instant connection.

"From the moment I saw you, I sensed you were someone who dared to dream and take action. But when it comes to matters of the heart, it seems we all tend to overthink and get anxious."

"No one's perfect," Abigail conceded, a hint of self-deprecation in her voice. "I used to think love was simple—if you like someone, you get together; if not, you break up.

"But I've learned that the hardest part is liking someone who doesn't feel the same. You can't bear to let go, yet you can't stay too close either. It's honestly the most painful experience."

Taylor's eyes narrowed as he shot her a withering look. "You're beneath my contempt!"

"Excuse me, everyone," a waiter interjected, arriving with their final dish. "Here's the beef barley soup you ordered."

As the waiter set down three small bowls, Taylor lifted the lids to inspect the contents. He picked up the middle bowl, spooned out the fennel, and placed it back in front of Abigail.

"I took out the fennel for you. Enjoy!" he said casually, wiping his hands. He then handed the other bowl to Helen.

Abigail stared blankly at the bowl in front of her, shifting her gaze from Taylor to Helen before retreating into her thoughts.

Had Taylor's instinctive gesture meant that caring for her had become second nature?