Bab 106: DECLARATION

As I walked through the aisles of the supermarket, I felt a flicker of resolve. I was on a mission to make dinner for Jessel, hoping that a home-cooked meal might help bridge the silence that had settled between us. My list was simple: groceries, chicken, and wine. But the task felt significant, like a small gesture that could mean a lot.

I grabbed a cart and headed straight for the produce section, picking out fresh vegetables with a practiced eye. Carrots, bell peppers, and a bunch of fresh herbs—things that would complement the chicken I had in mind. Each item I added to my cart felt like a step toward mending our fractured connection.

Next, I made my way to the meat section, carefully selecting a few plump chicken breasts. I imagined how they would look seasoned and roasted, paired with a glass of good wine. The thought of cooking for Jessel brought a sense of purpose, a way to show her that I was committed to making things right.