Dear Wife, I Hate You (by Josephine Mbanefo) novel Chapter 26

Nolan’s Pov

I couldn’t believe it worked.

The moment I saw Lilith step into the house with Zoey, I knew I had to make her stay. Zoey always disappears around this time. I counted on that. I just needed a reason to keep Lilith from leaving.

And luck? It played its part.

Zoey left. Lilith stayed. And the kitchen became my stage.

I know how to cook. Always have. Between me and Killian, I’ve always been the better one in the kitchen. But today? I burned the hell out of a pancake on purpose. Because I knew she’d offer to help. She couldn’t just walk past something like that.

And now here she was–standing next to me, apron in hand, already scolding me with those sharp eyes of hers.

“How do we start this?” I asked.

“Do you have an extra apron?” she said. “I don’t want to mess up my dress.”

I nodded and handed her one. It hung loosely on her. She looked so small in it. So soft. So damn perfect.

She tied it behind her back, and I just stared. Her neck. Her eyes. That scar. I wanted to kiss it. Not for lust. Just to let her know someone saw it and didn’t flinch. That someone saw her and wanted her anyway.

I shouldn’t be thinking all this.

But I couldn’t help it.

Not after what happened between us.

Not that she remembers.

“Pay attention,” she said, pulling me back. “I’m going to start now.”

She explained everything. The eggs. The flour. The milk. Her voice was calm but firm. I was pretending to listen, but I wasn’t hearing most of it. I was focused on her. The way she moved. The way she smiled. The way she touched the flour like it was art.

And then, as if the universe wanted to mess with me more, she wiped her forehead, and a streak of flour stayed there like it belonged.

I could’ve told her.

But I didn’t.

“Lilith,” I said.

She turned, eyes wide, smiling. “Yeah?”

I stepped closer.

She looked around like she didn’t expect me to move this close.

I reached out and wiped the flour off her forehead. My fingers brushed her skin. Warm. Soft.

“There was flour,” I said.

“Oh,” she whispered. “Thanks.”

She went back to mixing, like nothing happened. But something did. At least, inside me, it did.

I watched her. Imagined her in one of my shirts. Imagined her in my arms. Imagined a life where she wasn’t being bruised by Killian’s silence. A life where she was treated like she deserved.

She finished mixing the batter and placed the bowl down.

“We’ll wait for this one to cook,” she said. “Then you’ll make the next. I hope you were paying attention.”

“I was,” I said. Not a lie. Not entirely.

“Good. Because we’re doing this again.”

She turned back to the pan. I watched her shoulders, the curve of her back, the way she moved like she belonged there. Like she belonged with me.

She didn’t even know what she was doing to me.

“Alright,” she said. “Your turn. Start the second one while I watch this.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

I started preparing the next pancake as Lilith stood beside me, arms crossed lightly over her chest, watching my every move like a hawk.

“Add the flour gently. Not like you’re digging a grave,” she said.

I smiled a little. “Yes, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes but there was a hint of amusement behind it. I liked that. I liked making her smile, even just a little.

As I stirred the batter, she kept giving me small corrections, and all I could think was how sexy she looks while explaining.

Yes, princess.

Instruct me, tell me anything, and I’ll obey.

You want me to cook a hundred pancakes? I will. Want me to set the house on fire? I’ll do that too if it means you stay beside me like this.

She didn’t know what she was doing to me.

When I finished the pancake, she leaned over to inspect it.

“You did it perfectly,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “Now for the final round.”

God help me.

We finished up the rest of the batter. Quiet at first. Peaceful. Her presence felt like music I’d forgotten I loved.

When we were done, she untied her apron. “Well, I’m glad I could help.”

“Thank you so much,” I said. “Real lifesaver.”

She gave me a small smile, already heading for the hallway. “I’ll see you around.”

“Are you already leaving?” I asked, maybe too quickly. “You’re not going to taste the pancake you made?”

She turned slightly. “Oh… I don’t know if that would be possible.”

“Are you doing anything right now?”

She paused, then shook her head. “No.”

“Then come join me in the sitting room. Just a quick taste. Yours and mine. That’s all.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

I grabbed a couple of plates and poured some juice, then led her to the couch. The sun was soft through the windows. The room felt warmer than usual.

“You should try it first,” I said, handing her the plate. “Yours or mine.”

She cut a small piece from hers, took a bite, and smiled. “Tastes just like my usual pancakes.”

Then she tried mine.

She chewed slowly. Then her eyes widened a little. “Oh my God… this is so good.”

I smiled, maybe too proudly. “First time learner.”

“All because of you,” I said, shrugging. “I guess it was already in my hands… I just needed you to guide me through.”

I didn’t realize I said that out loud until her brows lifted.

“I mean…” I scratched my neck. “I just needed a little help. That’s all.”

She looked at me for a second longer, then smiled and went back to eating. We sat together, side by side, laughing between bites, and something in me felt full in a way no food could explain.

Then she glanced at me. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Why didn’t you attend the wedding? And… why aren’t you in the same business as your brother?”

I sighed, putting my plate down. “I didn’t go to the wedding because Killian didn’t make a big deal out of it. No ceremony. No grand invite. Just a quick sign–and–go thing. And I was out of the States at the time.”

I paused. “But… if I had known you were the bride… if I’d seen you–I would’ve come.”

She blinked. “I don’t understand that.”

I looked away. “You should just leave it at that.”

Silence sat between us for a few seconds.

“As for the second part,” I continued, “we’re just different. He’s all about property management and high–rise deals. Me? I like systems. Security. Surveillance. Cameras. Anything technical.”

She nodded. “That’s really interesting.”

“We think it’s a good thing,” I said. “And we’re grateful to our father for building what he did. We hardly see him these days, but he’s always traveling. Says his sons make him proud.”

“That’s nice,” she said softly. “Really nice.”

Then she looked around. “I wanted to ask… would it be okay if I borrowed some of your books from the library?”

“Of course,” I said. “Even if you want to come and read them here–it’s fine by me.”

She looked at me, a little surprised. Maybe unsure what to say.

So I added, “Don’t worry. Take any one you want, anytime. I don’t mind. I don’t exactly read them by the foot.”

Her laugh was soft. “Oh my God, thank you so, so, so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

As she finished the last bite of the pancake, we both settled into a silence that felt oddly comforting. After all the laughter and light teasing, it was as though the quiet let everything linger in the air a little longer–her voice, her smile, the softness in her eyes. I ate slowly, dragging the moment.

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