Grandma had laid out a full table of dishes, all tailored to Arianna’s favorites, and all seasoned exactly to her palate.

During the meal, Grandma smiled, looking slightly apologetic. "Maxwell, Arianna doesn't like scallions, so I didn't add any to these dishes. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Grandma," Maxwell replied, the name rolling off his tongue with such ease it sounded as if he’d been calling her that for years. "Everyone has different tastes. I have things I don't eat, too."

"Small things, really."

Beyond the hot dishes, there were a few cold plates, likely picked up from a local bistro, topped with vibrant sprinkles of scallions, cilantro, and crushed peanuts. They smelled divine. The thin slices of meat were coated in a savory, zesty sauce, garnished with bright green scallions and cilantro. It was mouth-watering.

Arianna couldn't resist. She reached out with her chopsticks and plucked a slice of meat. It looked fine at first glance, with only a light dusting of cilantro. But when she flipped it over, her heart sank. The scallions had been chopped into tiny, treacherous bits—at least five or six of them stuck to the underside.

She sighed and began the silent, tedious work of picking them out. The sauce was rich, and the meat paired perfectly with the crisp cucumbers—savory but not greasy. Still, enjoying good food came with a price.

A few scallions, what was the big deal? Arianna, the little glutton, steeled herself and reached out for a second helping. Just then, a bowl was pushed toward her, accompanied by Maxwell’s crisp, melodic voice: "That one has scallions. Eat from here."

In the clean bowl sat the same cold dish, but every trace of green was gone.

Maxwell met her gaze and offered a gentle smile. "Go ahead. I just picked them all out."

Beside his hand lay a crumpled napkin, piled high with a mountain of discarded green bits.

Arianna whispered, "Thank you."

Maxwell replied, "Don't mention it."

It was a relief. At least Maxwell wasn't acting the way he had before—staring at her with that lazy, intense smirk, telling her with a heavy, unstated meaning: *Arianna, we’re husband and wife. There’s no need to be so polite between us.*

Grandma, sitting across from them, had caught the entire exchange. She mentally gave Maxwell two extra points. Picking a few scallions might seem like a trivial task, but it was rare to find a man who actually remembered a preference and followed through with it so naturally.

After dinner, Arianna began clearing the table, carrying the plates into the kitchen. Maxwell followed, helping her tidy up. Grandma stayed on the sofa, the television playing to an empty room while she watched the young couple with a fond, knowing smile.

Inside the kitchen, Maxwell rolled up his sleeves with practiced ease, the veins in his forearms standing out beneath his white shirt. "Go on out, Arianna. I’ll wash these."

"Oh? No, that’s okay. I’ll do it."

As she spoke, she turned on the faucet. But before her hands could touch the greasy plates, Maxwell caught them in his own.

The water hissed and swirled over their joined fingers before he reached over with his free hand to click the tap shut. He pulled a couple of paper towels from the rack and began to gently pat her hands dry. The soft, dry paper absorbed every lingering bead of water. He kept his head down, looking so focused that it felt as if he were handling a precious, fragile artifact, terrified that even the slightest pressure might break her.

They were standing incredibly close. Arianna could see the shadows cast by his long lashes against his lids.

Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of movement in her peripheral vision. She reflexively glanced toward the kitchen door. Grandma, who had been sitting on the sofa, was craning her neck, peering into the kitchen with unmasked curiosity.

Arianna froze. "..."

*Seriously?*

Catching Arianna’s look, Grandma gave an embarrassed smile, waved her hand dismissively, and pointed back at the television. The message was clear: *I’m not watching you two! I’m watching the show! Truly!*

Arianna felt the heat rush to her face. She bit her lip and said nothing, remaining still as Maxwell finished drying her hands. It felt like an eternity before he finally stopped.

Maxwell moved her hands away from the sink and nudged her toward the door. "I'll handle this."

Arianna tried to push back. "You’re a guest. There’s no way I’m letting a guest do the dishes."

Maxwell tilted his head, his brow arched. "Since when am I a guest? Aren't we a family now?"

Arianna was momentarily speechless. She felt herself being led by his logic. "We are, but..."

"No buts," Maxwell interrupted with a laugh. "Families don't keep score. It doesn't matter who does the dishes."

"You haven't been back in a while. Go spend some time with Grandma. Leave the cleaning to me."

Before she could protest again, Maxwell had draped an arm over her shoulder and effectively "ushered" her out of the kitchen.

As soon as she stepped into the living room, Arianna was met with Grandma’s inquisitive eyes. She bit her lip, gestured toward the kitchen, and said, "He's taking care of the dishes. I'll come sit and talk with you."

Grandma looked delighted. She scooted over on the sofa and patted the spot next to her. "Come here, Arianna. Sit by me."

Arianna had an inkling of what was coming. She walked over slowly and settled in beside her. "Ask whatever you want."

"Ask what?" Grandma reached out and tapped her on the forehead, pretending to be cross. "You kept a secret as big as getting a marriage license from me."

"I’m sorry, Grandma," Arianna said, pulling a throw pillow into her lap and hugging it close. "I just... I did it on a whim."

The memories washed over her. Arianna’s fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of the pillowcase as she spoke, her voice growing soft. "That day, I just... I suddenly really wanted a home of my own. I didn't want to pine for them anymore."

"Grandma, I’ve been pining for twenty years."

"But they never once looked back at me."

Grandma had already guessed the reason behind her granddaughter's marriage, but hearing it spoken aloud made the old woman’s eyes sting. She reached out with a trembling hand and brushed Arianna’s hair. "Then let's just live our own lives from now on, Arianna. We won't think of them anymore, okay?"

"I was just teasing you earlier. Seeing you married... actually, Grandma is very happy."

"I always worried. You’re so beautiful and have such a kind heart. If I were gone one day and you were left all alone in this world, what would you do?"

Arianna quickly reached out to cover Grandma’s mouth. "Don't say such things. I don't want to hear it."

Grandma patted her hand, signaling for her to let go. "Do you trust Grandma’s judgment?"

"I do, as long as you stop saying things like that. I believe whatever you say."

"That boy, Maxwell, is a good one," Grandma said. "I can tell. What he did today wasn't just for show. He’s like this with you all the time, isn't he?"

Arianna nodded fervently and gave her grandmother a thumbs-up. "You’re sharp."

"Of course I am," Grandma said, lifting her chin with a touch of pride. Then, a thought occurred to her, and she asked, "By the way, what does his family do?"