Sean Sinclair was dead set on having dinner with her tonight, and no matter how strong Leila Jennings was, she couldn’t overpower a grown man.

Leila Jennings knew there was no point in continuing the stalemate, so she calmed down and agreed, "Fine. I’ll cook. But please let go of my hand first."

Only then did Sean Sinclair let go.

"There’s no food in the fridge. I need to go to the market, but I won’t find anything very fresh at this hour." Leila Jennings looked at the local specialties on the floor—they were gifts from the director and the children. She couldn’t just leave them there, so she said to Sean Sinclair, "You take this stuff upstairs, and I’ll go buy groceries."

Sean Sinclair just kept staring at her.

As if he was afraid she wouldn’t come back.

Leila Jennings was speechless. She finally bent down and picked up the items. "I’ll take these up first, then go to the market."

Sean Sinclair seemed to believe her and reached for the bags in her hands. "Together."

"Huh?" Leila Jennings thought she must have misheard. "What do you mean, together?"

"We’ll go to the market together, then come back and cook." Sean Sinclair carried the two large bags into the elevator and gestured for Leila Jennings to get in.

Leila Jennings stared at him, dazed, wondering if something was wrong with his head today.

In four years, he had never once offered to go to the market with her.

In Sean Sinclair’s mind, that sort of thing was a woman’s job.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Sean Sinclair asked, slightly confused.

Leila Jennings shook her head and said softly, "It’s nothing."

After putting the things away, Sean Sinclair did indeed follow her downstairs to the nearby market.

As evening fell, the market was still bustling. The mix of smells from vegetables, fruits, and raw meat was a bit much for Sean Sinclair, especially with the rotten vegetable leaves and bloody water on the ground in front of the butcher stalls.

Sean Sinclair stepped on a rotten tomato, completely ruining his gleaming leather shoes.

He frowned. "Why don’t we go to a supermarket? The produce there is clean and pre-packaged."

"The market is cheaper, and you can haggle," Leila Jennings said calmly as she bagged some scallions, ginger, and garlic.

Sean Sinclair’s brow was still furrowed. "We don’t need to pinch pennies over a little..."

"You only give me three thousand a month for household expenses." Leila Jennings stared at him, her gaze heavy. "And household expenses aren’t just for groceries and meals. It’s also for the fruit you eat, toilet paper, laundry detergent, body wash, shampoo... all these things that seem small, but the total each month is actually more than three thousand."

Sean Sinclair fell silent.

Watching Leila’s practiced ease as she haggled and paid, he felt a sharp pang in his chest.

He stopped in his tracks.

Leila Jennings walked up to a fish stall, and the owner immediately greeted her with a smile. "Haven’t seen you in a while, Leila! Been too busy lately?"

"Mr. Carter, just the usual."

"I know." Mr. Carter, gloves on, was about to catch a fish for her. "I was saving a fresh one for you every day," he said, "but when you didn’t show up, I had to sell it to someone else."

"Mr. Carter, you don’t have to save one for me anymore." Leila Jennings stared blankly at the fish on his cutting board. "I’m moving."

"Oh?" Mr. Carter looked disappointed, then said with a cheerful smile, "Looks like I’m losing a regular customer, then."

"Mr. Carter, thank you for everything these past few years."

"No, thank *you* for always giving me your business." Mr. Carter turned and happened to see a man in a sharp suit walking over. He asked Leila curiously, "Is that your husband?"

Leila Jennings heard Sean Sinclair’s footsteps, but she still shook her head and said, "No."

"Oh, he’s not?" Mr. Carter didn’t question it. The man looked rich, and if Leila’s husband were wealthy, she wouldn’t be the one coming to the market every day to buy groceries and cook. He was probably just a friend.

Leila Jennings nodded. "He’s not."

"What’s not?" Sean Sinclair came closer and saw the owner handing over the cleaned fish. He took it before Leila Jennings could reach for it.

Leila Jennings shook her head. "Nothing."

The two of them walked on to buy some pork ribs.

Suddenly, her phone rang.

"I need to take this call." Leila Jennings turned and stepped a little to the side.

Sean Sinclair watched Leila Jennings’s slender silhouette and frowned again.

’When did she start hiding from me to take calls? She always used to do it right in front of me.’

The caller was Cherry Cole, asking Leila Jennings to have dinner with her that night.

Leila Jennings glanced at the groceries she and Sean Sinclair were carrying, and her eyes lit up. "Cherry, what if I cook for you tonight?"

"Really?!" Cherry Cole’s voice was full of excitement. "Yes, I’d love that! Just give me the address, and I’ll be right over!"

"But... I need you to do me a favor."

"No problem, leave it to me!"

Leila Jennings was surprised she’d agreed so quickly. "You don’t even know what the favor is yet."

"It’s not like you’re going to ask me to commit murder or arson," Cherry Cole said, her trust in Leila absolute.

That feeling of trust sent a wave of warmth through Leila Jennings, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Seeing her sudden smile, Sean Sinclair walked over and asked warily, "Who are you talking to?"

Leila Jennings didn’t hide it, showing him her phone screen. "A friend."

Seeing the name "Cherry Cole," Sean Sinclair immediately thought of Nathaniel Cole, who was always so aggressive toward him.

Leila Jennings told Cherry Cole she had to go, then looked at Sean Sinclair. "I’d like to invite my friend over for dinner tonight."

"The young lady of the Cole family?" Sean Sinclair hesitated.

Leila Jennings pressed, "Is that okay?"

"This is the first time you’ve brought a friend home," Sean Sinclair muttered, but he nodded in agreement.

Leila Jennings then added, "You can invite a friend over, too."

She was referring to Sarah Lynch.

Sean Sinclair didn’t seem to catch her meaning. He took out his phone and sent a message to Spencer Shelby.

"I invited Spencer Shelby."

"What about Ms. Lynch?"

Every time Leila Jennings mentioned Sarah Lynch, Sean Sinclair’s heart would leap into his throat, and he would grow tense involuntarily.

"Why would you think of her?"

"Isn’t Ms. Lynch your friend? Spencer Shelby knows her, too."

"She is, but there’s no need to invite her tonight," Sean Sinclair said hastily. "Let’s go back."

"I want to make a few more dishes. It’s the first time Cherry is trying my cooking." A smile naturally appeared on Leila Jennings’s face whenever she mentioned Cherry Cole.

Sean Sinclair asked, "Why are you so concerned about Cherry Cole? Is it because she’s the young lady of the Cole family? Nathaniel Cole’s only sister?"

"Because she’s my first friend," Leila Jennings said, looking at him seriously, fully aware of the sordid thoughts running through his mind.

Sean Sinclair didn’t believe her. "You’re twenty-eight, and the Cole family’s daughter is only twenty-two. You aren’t even peers, and you probably don’t have any shared hobbies. How could you possibly get along?"

"Who says we don’t have any shared hobbies?" Cherry Cole often locked herself in a lab, just like Leila.

Sean Sinclair pressed on, "What shared hobbies could you have? You’re a married woman, and she’s single."

Leila Jennings didn’t answer, simply continuing to shop. She didn’t even haggle anymore, and her entire demeanor took on a gentle quality, a stark contrast to her gloomy mood from before.

The stark difference in how she treated her husband versus her friend stirred a strange feeling in Sean Sinclair’s chest.

He didn’t know when it started, but at some point, Leila Jennings’s old warmth toward him had vanished.

And that made him feel a flicker of panic.