Flora’s Guide to a Second Chance at Love and Life

"Okay, then you can head out now," Fiona said with a casual nod.

Nash was left speechless, his face turning a shade of frustration. Was she even serious? He'd been waiting around, only for her to brush him off so easily?

Without even acknowledging Nash, Jackson led Fiona into the house, both of them blatantly ignoring him.noveldrama

Taking a deep breath, Nash gritted his teeth and followed them inside. "Hey, you're not hurt, right? Still kicking?" he asked, giving Fiona a once-over.

"I'm not dead, much to your dismay, it seems," Fiona replied with a raised eyebrow. She found Nash's behavior a bit petty. He had been the one to instigate their last skirmish, and now he was back for more after she bested him. Nash found himself at a loss for words, his face darkening in silence.

"I've sorted a leave from school for you. You're off the hook today," Jackson said as he approached, his tone gentle. "Go on, take a shower, change into something comfy, and get some rest." "Okay, big brother," Fiona agreed with a nod, clearly more compliant when Jackson was around, and headed upstairs.

Nash, still looking a bit miffed by Fiona's attitude, noticed her lively demeanor and figured she was alright. His eyes then shifted to Jackson, who was casually tying an apron around his waist. "Uncle, what's going on here? Are you actually going to cook?" he asked, clearly taken aback.

Jackson, with his usual composed grace, tied the apron and glanced at Nash, his intense gaze from beneath long lashes adding to his already captivating yet cold aura, accentuated by his black shirt. "Are you really cooking, Uncle?" Nash asked again, his face a picture of disbelief.

"Got anything else you need here?" Jackson replied coolly.

"Uh..."

"The door's to your left," Jackson pointed out, his tone suggesting Nash's time was up.

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Nash hesitated. "Maybe I've got a bit more to do here, maybe I'll hang around a bit longer?" he said, inching closer to the sofa. Jackson's demeanor towards Fiona seemed oddly intriguing, and Nash had a hunch about it, though it seemed far-fetched.

Could his uncle really be that unpredictable?

Jackson didn't bother to respond, instead grabbing a kitchen knife and a piece of ginger, chopping with a loud thud. The sound made Nash jump.

He watched as Jackson tossed the poorly chopped ginger into the trash, mumbling, "Useless thing."

"Alright, Uncle, I'm out of here..." Nash said, forcing a smile before wisely making his exit.

...

After freshening up, Fiona returned downstairs to find Jackson busy in the kitchen, a light steam softening his sharp features, making him look more approachable. She was surprised-Jackson could cook?

"Take a seat, it's almost done," Jackson said, turning slightly to acknowledge her presence, his voice still cool but with an undercurrent of warmth.

Instead of sitting, Fiona leaned against the kitchen doorframe, peeking in curiously. "What are you making, brother?"

"Spring pasta," he answered, turning

off the stove while keeping his

hands busy. When he turned around,

де

he was holding a bowl of clear broth pasta, ready to serve.