As Mila washed the vegetables, Eugene followed her into the kitchen. She glanced at him with a concerned look. The doctor mentioned you often skip meals or eat poorly. You can’t keep doing this, Eugene. Next time you end up in the hospital, it won’t be just your appendix.
After all, that was already taken care of.
Eugene chuckled softly, Alright.
He joined her, helping to wash and pick the vegetables as Mila continued with her gentle scolding. Her words, though nagging, seemed to lift the gloomy aura that often surrounded him.
Unable to resist, Eugene brought up an old topic. Sis, I’m serious. If you get a divorce and split the assets, just hand me over to you. I’ll be with you, and you can consider me your son or brother.
I promise you won’t lose out. I’m much younger and can take care of you in your old age.
Mila was speechless. Was this conversation ever going to end?
She sighed and tried to reason with him, Once you find someone you love and start a family, you won’t think like this.
I won’t start a family.
Eugene looked up, his expression earnest. I’ve been left on my own since I was a kid. My family knows I’m here, but they’ve never visited or asked if I’m alright, even though we’re blood relatives.
Sis, to me, the concept of family is absurd.
You’re the only exception.
Mila had nothing to say to this and returned to washing the vegetables.
…
Soon, the meal was ready—a hearty soup, a few simple stir-fried dishes, and a slow-cooked pumpkin porridge. The villa was filled with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food.
They sat together on the living room sofa, eating as snow fluttered down outside the window.
Sitting so close, Mila noticed the layers of makeup on Eugene’s face seemed thicker than before. She couldn’t help but ask, When did you start enjoying makeup?
Eugene paused mid-sip, touched his face, and smiled, Do you think it looks bad?
After dinner, they cleaned up together.
Winter nights fell early, and with the heavy snowfall, Eugene suggested Mila stay at the villa overnight.
The roads were slippery, and he was concerned for her safety.
Before Mila could agree, her phone rang. It was Lysander, unexpectedly reaching out.
What a rare occurrence. Was he finally ready to sign the divorce papers?
Hopeful, she answered the call, only to hear Lysander’s cold, angry voice.
Where are you?
Mila frowned, What’s going on?
Mila, you’ve got a charming brother, don’t you? He’s sitting at my doorstep asking for money. Your family matters—come handle this yourself!