Chapter 593

The aroma of cooking wafted from the kitchen.

Evelyn stood at the doorway, watching Auntie Wu bustling by the counter in her apron. Alexander Hamilton stood nearby in his crisp dress shirt and slacks, intently observing her movements with a slight frown—as if studying some crucial business project.

She cleared her throat.

Alexander immediately turned and strode to the foyer to grab his coat. "It's chilly outside."

"I just showered." Evelyn didn't take it, merely draping it over her arm. Her gaze swept over the shopping bags piled on the kitchen floor. "What's all this...?"

"The fridge contents spoiled." He gestured to the fresh ingredients on the counter. "The Ragdoll shouldn't eat only kibble. I had someone get proper groceries. That self-cleaning litter box is the model you mentioned last time."

She knelt to inspect the purchases—imported cat food, artisan toys, a premium cat bed. Each item carried a hefty price tag.

"How much? I'll transfer the cost."

"Unnecessary." His expression darkened.

"Gregory and I split expenses."

"I'm not him." Alexander's voice rose abruptly. "We adopted this cat together."

Evelyn fell silent.

He'd already turned back to the counter. "Go play with the cat. It's been eyeing that feather teaser for ages."

The Ragdoll circled the bags, tiny paws batting at them. Evelyn quickly scooped it up and began organizing the pet supplies—clearly curated, not haphazardly bought.

A nutritious meal waited on the dining table.

"Auntie Wu prepared it." Alexander rolled up his sleeves, droplets still glistening on his hands.

"I thought you were making cat food?"

He smiled without answering and retreated into the kitchen.

Night deepened.

Evelyn emerged from the study rubbing her stiff neck, drawn by the dining room light. The sight froze her in place—

The table bore an array of "dishes," if the charred lumps could even qualify.

Alexander appeared with a final plate of unidentifiable matter, his expression nearly as grim as the food's.

"Is this... fossilized charcoal?" She frowned.

"Sweet and sour fish." His voice cracked.

Her temple throbbed. "At this hour, you—"

"I'm learning to cook." He set down the plate, surveying his "masterpieces" with defeat. "Auntie Wu said practice makes perfect."

Evelyn studied the fish's glassy-eyed stare and carbonized meat chunks. No false praise came. "Some skills aren't worth forcing."

"I can learn."

"Resource allocation requires optimization." She quoted his own business wisdom. "Specialists handle specialized tasks."

"Gregory balances surgery and cooking?"

"...He does both."

"Why can't I?"

Understanding dawned. "You're competing with him over this?"

"I just want to contribute." His voice softened. "You refuse my rides. Your work independence grows. Today at the hospital... I realized how little I truly know about your life. Evelyn, I'm terrified I'll exhaust every excuse to see you."

Silence engulfed the dining room.

"Go rest." He began clearing the wreckage. "I'll handle this."

Evelyn's heart ached at the wasted ingredients.

Auntie Wu intervened tactfully. "Don't be cross, Miss Carter. Mr. Hamilton's first attempt shows promise! My former employer's daughter nearly burned the house down learning—fire trucks and all!"