Chapter 297:
Three Years Later
Julie's POV
I was sitting relaxed on a stool by the antique wooden kitchen table, resting my chin upon my cold palm, watching Steve's arms move with a light, fluid agility as he busied himself with preparing a hot breakfast for us. He turned toward me suddenly, a warm smile carving his lips that softened the grimness of the morning, and spoke in a teasing pitch: "Julie, it's been three whole years... do you truly still have no desire to learn the basics of cooking?"
I trailed my index finger slowly over the smooth wooden surface of the table, tracing imaginary circles, then answered in a light, amused tone: "Steve, you know better than anyone how utterly hopeless and failed I am in this department. No matter how much I try or experiment, I just don't understand the language of frying pans."
