Ruby sat on her seat as usual, raising a brow when she noticed Milo staring at her.
"You want something?" she finally asked, her voice calm but curious, as his gaze lingered.
Startled, Milo bit his pink lips, his honey-brown eyes locking onto hers, a glimmer of frustration flashing in them. He couldn't believe it.
Can't she see feel the difference in taste?
He had made the food! He had put extra effort into preparing it, carefully considering her preferences, hoping to impress her.
Milo crossed his arms, trying to maintain his composure, but his heart betrayed him. He didn't want to be angry at her—not his wife.
But when she didn't even acknowledge his efforts, let alone compliment the food he made with such care, he felt a small, Very Small amount of anger building.
She didn't even notice...