No Strings Attached

Chapter 148

lan’s eyes, deep and dark, were brimming with an anguish he could no longer mask. No longer could he find his reflection in Clara’s gaze; he had lost his place in her world.

His heart ached as if it was pierced by countless silver needles. His voice became hoarse, and his eyes were subtly reddened. “We never had our breakup meal. I haven’t eaten anything since last night. Could you… could you make me a bowl of soup? I’ll leave right after.”

Clara frowned. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes, Clara. I want your homemade meatballs, chicken noodle soup, and those pancakes you used to make.”

He listed several dishes, all of which Clara had often prepared for him. He remembered how he used to love ordering breakfast. But ever since Clara moved in, she would wake up early every day to cook him a variety of

homemade breakfasts.

Gradually, he began to prefer the warm, comforting soups Clara made.

At first, he thought it was her way of currying favor with him. He enjoyed it, of course. Only later did he realize how much he had come to rely on this routine. He even missed it deeply.

Clara watched him silently for a few seconds before saying, “I hope you’ll keep your word.” Then, she went back to her room to freshen up.

Dawson, who had seen the usually imposing CEO rejected and brooding, felt not a shred of sympathy.

Leaning close, he whispered teasingly, “Mr. Hayes, I’ll wait downstairs for you. Enjoy your last breakfast, alright?” This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

lan glared at him. His tongue pressed against his cheek. “Get lost!”

Dawson nodded promptly, then gestured to the luggage beside them. “Should I take this down for you?”

“No need!” His refusal was firm, his tone laced with a trace of hostility. He had never been rejected like this in his life.

lan’s eyes, deep and dark, were brimming with an anguish he could no longer mask. No longer could he find his reflection in Clara’s gaze; he had lost his place in her world.

His heart ached as if it was pierced by countless silver needles. His voice became hoarse, and his eyes were subtly reddened. “We never had our breakup meal. I haven’t eaten anything since last night. Could you… could you make me a bowl of soup? I’ll leave right after.”

Clara frowned. “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes, Clara. I want your homemade meatballs, chicken noodle soup, and those pancakes you used to make.”

He listed several dishes, all of which Clara had often prepared for him. He remembered how he used to love ordering breakfast. But ever since Clara moved in, she would wake up early every day to cook him a variety of homemade breakfasts.

Gradually, he began to prefer the warm, comforting soups Clara made.

At first, he thought it was her way of currying favor with him. He enjoyed it, of course. Only later did he realize how much he had come to rely on this routine. He even missed it deeply.

Clara watched him silently for a few seconds before saying, “I hope you’ll keep your word.” Then, she went back to her room to freshen up.

Dawson, who had seen the usually imposing CEO rejected and brooding, felt not a shred of sympathy.

Leaning close, he whispered teasingly, “Mr. Hayes, I’ll wait downstairs for you. Enjoy your last breakfast, alright?”

lan glared at him. His tongue pressed against his cheek. “Get lost!”

Dawson nodded promptly, then gestured to the luggage beside them. “Should I take this down for you?”

“No need!” His refusal was firm, his tone laced with a trace of hostility. He had never been rejected like this in his life.

10:40

Dawson scampered away, not wanting to provoke further ire.

Clara always kept some frozen pie and buns in the fridge. In less than half an hour, she had prepared everything lan had asked for.

When he saw the food laid out before him, lan was taken aback. “How did you do that so quickly?” He had hoped to stall for a little longer.

Clara’s face was expressionless. “Eat. Once you’re done, leave. And take your things with you.”

She turned to leave, but lan caught her wrist. “Clara, shouldn’t a breakup meal be shared? Sit down with me, please?” His voice carried a plea she had never heard before.

Pulling Clara down beside him, he placed a piece of pie on her plate with a gentle voice. “Let’s eat together.”

Without protest, Clara sat quietly.

lan’s manners were always impeccable. Even when sipping soup, he made not al sound. His slender fingers held the spoon as he delicately consumed the broth.

Suddenly, he felt it was the most delicious thing in the world, surpassing even the creations of Michelin–starred chefs.

He lingered over every bite until the food was gone, then turned to Clara. His gaze was intense and searching. “Clara, how about we watch a breakup movie. tonight?”

A hint of mirth flickered in Clara’s eyes. “And after the movie? What then? You want a breakup… sex?”

“If you’re up for it, I’ll oblige.”

“To hell with that!” Clara bolted up from her chair, stormed to the door, and flung it open. Her voice was fiery with wrath. “Take your stuff and get the hell out!”