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When fate plays its hand (Miranda)

Chapter 569
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Unlock the content CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE In her hurry to apologize, she missed the brief flicker of disappointment in his eyes. “It's okay." "To thank you, you're coming over for dinner later-no excuses!" Miranda said before darting back to her apartment.

Paul's previously dim eyes lit up at her words.

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Once inside Miranda's apartment, Paul took off his coat. He then rolled up his sleeves and headed straight for the kitchen. He washed the vegetables, chopped them, and peeled the garlic.

Without Miranda even asking. Paul took care of everything before she could. He moved around her kitchen with such ease, seemingly more natural than when he was in his own home.

This wasn't the first tthey'd cooked together, and over time, they had developed a seamless rhythm. Miranda would reach out for something, and Paul would already know whether she needed salt, sugar, a bowl, or utensils.

By 6:00 pm, a meat dish, a pasta dish, two vegetable dishes, and a stew were ready on the table. Outside, the wind howled through the dark night, but inside, the warmth and coziness made it feel like a safe +25 BONUS Chapter 0569 haven.

Miranda knew Paul didn't drink alcohol, nor would he let her, so she didn't even bother to ask. She said, Thanks, Dr. Jefferson, for helpingout yet again." "Thank you, Miranda, for treatingto another delicious meal." 'So... we're even?" She laughed.

Paul nodded with mock seriousness. "Exactly." The table was set with pork ribs, pasta with marinara sauce, roasted vegetable medley, sautéed vegetables, and a large bowl of beef stew.

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Though the portions weren't large, the flavors were perfect, and they finished everything together. Paul murmured to himself, "I've been gaining weight lately.. Miranda was busy clearing the dishes, and the clinking sounds drowned out his words. "What did you say, Dr. Jefferson?" "Uh, nothing... Lethelp.” He immediately started helping her clean up.

By now, Miranda barely had to wash dishes herself. Not to mention, Paul had becquite skilled at it. All she had to do was stand beside him, drying the clean plates and putting them away in the cabinets. Noticing Paul was wearing a white sweater, she couldn't help but ask, 'Dr. Jefferson, do you want to wear an apron?" Paul glanced down at himself. "Good idea. I don't want to wipe my hands-could you helpput it on?"

"Sure." Miranda grabbed the apron oment. He was but hesitated for a moment. He was so tall that she would have to stand on her tiptoes and lift her hands high to slip it over his neck.