Chapter 2

As soon as Sean stepped out, I grabbed a coat and chased after him—only to find him looking annoyed.

"It's so cold at night," I said. "The doctor mentioned—"

However, he took the coat and walked off before I finished speaking.

I turned around and heard Lily Foster, Sean's sister, mocking me. "Again with the one-sided kindness? You really have thick skin. Save your effort—my brother only sees you as a nanny. He never forgot Lemon," said Lily.

I ignored her, but she pulled up Lemon's Twitter and shoved the screen in my face.

A few days earlier, Lemon had posted that she was returning home. Sean had commented right away. Sean: [Welcome back, my muse.]

I suddenly remembered a popular dessert at Sean's restaurant—Lemon Intoxication. He'd created that dish specifically for Lemon Alfredson.

"I never planned to marry your brother," I said calmly.

Lily scoffed. "Then why do you keep hanging around our house every day?"

"Lily, how can you talk like that?" Sean's mother, Annie Foster, appeared in the yard, holding Sean's nephew Lucas.

"Rachel!" The three-year-old threw his arms around me.

I patted Lucas' head gently.

"Aren't you marrying my uncle anymore?" Lucas stared up at me, confusion filling his round eyes.

Lily took the child and went back inside. After that, I handed Annie the bracelet she'd given me.

"Annie, I'm thinking about moving out," I said.

"Move out?" Annie looked shocked.

"Sean's recovered a lot lately. I should go," I told her.

Annie sighed deeply. "Sean actually relies on you a lot," she said. "He won't admit it, but I can see he has feelings for you."

I shook my head. "But Lemon's back."

"Lemon?" Annie's voice shot up an octave. "It was Lemon who had the flu back then! Sean insisted on taking care of her—and ended up losing his sense of taste. Once Lemon got better, she left the country and never even looked back at Sean."

My chest suddenly felt tight. I'd never imagined Sean's illness was also because of her.

"Rachel," Annie softened her tone and kept persuading. "You've sacrificed so much for him these two years. If you really have to go, can you wait until he's settled at Luna Bistro? I just can't feel at ease otherwise."

I held back my emotions and nodded.

Annie said, "Take this card. We owe you this."

"Thank you," I took the card without hesitation. Maybe accepting the money would let us both feel at peace when I left.

When Sean first lost his sense of taste, he fell apart completely. Once, he locked himself in the wine cellar and burned all his old recipes to ashes.

Sparks lit his spice collection, and a fire broke out instantly. I was terrified—I banged on the door until it opened, then dragged him out by force.

In the hospital, he sobbed and yelled at me, "I'm just a loser! Why didn't you let me die in the fire?"

I threw my arms around him, desperate. "Sean, it's okay," I repeated in his ear. "I'll get your taste back, I promise."

Finally, he softened. He clung to me and cried until he fell asleep.

After that day, I moved into his house—and he stepped back into the kitchen.

Every day, he cooked, and I tasted. I broke down the flavors with words, telling him the layers of each ingredient.

At first, he couldn't even make simple pasta right and would fly into rages. He'd splash a fresh pot of soup into the sink and shout, "You know nothing. Get out!"

Once he calmed down, I'd tell him calmly, "Your grasp of freshness today is better than yesterday. You're improving."

I lost count of how many ingredients he dumped, or how many times I told him to trust me. Maybe he'd already forgotten all of it.