His Destructive, Toxic Love novel Chapter 119

Nova immediately put on a magnanimous front. “Casper, you’re here. Look at me, getting into a little spat with Marian over something as silly as not liking the food. Marian’s had it rough, too, so don’t hold it against her.”

Casper glanced at the floor.

Marian, trembling, hurried to start cleaning up.

“Once you’re done, you can head back,” Casper said.

Marian nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

Nova’s eyes had almost fully healed, and her leg was finally free from the cast.

“Casper, how’s the arson case going?” she asked, her tone subtly pleading.

“Not enough evidence. They let her go,” he responded flatly.

“I figured Eliza couldn’t have done something like that. It really was just a misunderstanding, but it had me worried for so long.” Nova’s fingers clutched the bedsheet, though her face remained calm and gentle.

Casper looked up at her, feeling a surge of relief. “Once you’re out tomorrow, you should rest up at home.”

“I…” her eyelashes drooped, “…I don’t have a home anymore.”

“Come to Welton Estate.”

“Is that okay? I stayed there before, and Eliza never liked me. Maybe... it’s better if I don’t,” she said, trying to show she didn’t want to impose, “I can rent a place.”

“It’s okay. She’s not staying there anymore.”

“Did you two have a fight?”

Casper didn’t answer, simply saying, “Marian will come to pick you up.”

...

After leaving the hospital, Casper, as if guided by some unseen force, found himself at Eliza’s apartment.

Eliza had just finished showering, exhausted from the days she was detained. She had called Molly and was planning to go back to work the next day. She needed the money.

The doorbell rang.

“I am. Make me a bowl of pasta,” he said.

“I don’t have the kind of pasta you eat, Mr. Casper,” she retorted, not wanting to cater to him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Your mother’s medication, in exchange for a bowl of pasta, how about that? Mrs. Welton.”

The medication was worth a hundred thousand. Could she refuse?

“Fine.”

Turning around, she went into the kitchen, tied on an apron, and took out the only pack of spaghetti she had. She glanced at the expiration date… it was expired.

Casper took off his jacket and sat on the sofa. The sofa was small and narrow, barely allowing him to stretch his legs. On the balcony window, a pot of sunflowers exuded a tranquil fragrance.

He stood up and walked to the kitchen doorway, watching her silhouette.

In the two years they were married, he rarely came home, but every time he did, Eliza would prepare a feast for him. He knew she was an excellent cook, yet he had never tasted her food.