?Chapter 333:


    “It’s delicious,” Freya responded with a contented smile, her senses delighting in the rich yet delicate vor. “It’s well-seasoned and fragrant.”


    Ethel beamed, her face lighting up with pure joy.


    In that instant, Hugh appeared from the kitchen, holding a bowl of soup, still wearing his apron. His face brightened when he saw Freya and, with eager steps, he made his way toward her, proudly holding the bowl aloft.


    “Mina, you’re back,” he said warmly, his smile wide and filled with relief.


    “Yes,” Freya replied, her face softening at the sight of him.


    Hugh nced at the table. “Let’s eat.”


    “Alright,” Freya responded, settling into her seat.


    Ethel joined her, taking her ce at the table, but Hugh remained standing. There was a gleam in his eyes, a quiet joy in simply seeing Freya at the table with him.


    Freya noticed his stillness and asked, “Isn’t it hot?”


    “Huh?” Hugh blinked in surprise.


    It was only then that he realized how hot the soup was, its steam rising in azy swirl. With a hiss, he hastily ced it down, clearly embarrassed.


    Ethel burst intoughter, teasing him. “Dad, you’re hrious!”


    Hugh’s cheeks flushed with a crimson hue, his embarrassment in.


    He quickly removed his apron and joined Freya and Ethel at the table. Freya, with a gentle smile, took thedle and served Hugh a bowl of soup, handing it to him.


    For a fleeting moment, Hugh froze, staring at the bowl in his hands. His heart swelled in his chest. His eyes shimmered with emotion, a single tear slipping free, betraying him despite his best efforts.


    “Dad, tears won’t make the soup taste better,” Ethel teased, her words light-hearted and full of warmth.


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    Hugh chuckled, wiping away the tear, his eyes still red but filled with tenderness.


    He took a spoon and began sipping the soup, savoring the warmth that filled him withfort. He drank slowly, as though each drop carried with it a moment of peace.


    Two years had passed, and Freya was finally willing to share a meal with him again.


    As Hugh watched her, Freya’s chest tightened, a heavy, unexined weight settling inside her. It was a strange sensation, one she couldn’t name—an odd pressure that lingered, gnawing quietly at her.


    “Let’s eat first,” Freya said, her voice taking on a subtle shift. “I need to talk to you afterward.”


    “Alright,” Hugh responded softly, his voice thick with emotion.


    The meal continued, but the atmosphere was different.


    The conversation slowed, and the food began to cool, left forgotten as they lingered at the table.


    Hugh’s thoughts were simple. He wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance to sit and eat with Freya. He cherished this fleeting moment, as if it were a rare treasure, something he could never take for granted. For Freya, however, her thoughts were upied with how to approach the subject of Edwin.


    Cheryl was Edwin’s younger sister. If Hugh married Cheryl, then Edwin would legally be his brother-inw.


    If Edwin were imprisoned, it would certainly affect both Cheryl and Hugh.


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