His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 109

Chapter 109

I stayed quiet.

“So Grandpa added a condition,” Sophia continued, choosing her words carefully. “Liam has to get married and have his own biological child within two years of marriage. If he doesn’t, the inheritance goes to a foundation instead.”

I swallowed. “And… he’s giving that up?”

She nodded, eyes soft. “He said if marrying you comes with the pressure to have a child, he won’t do it. He doesn’t want to put that on you. He said love is supposed to feel like freedom, not a deadline.”

I stared at the wall, heart thudding.

“Emily,” she said gently, “you don’t need to feel guilty. Liam’s a grown man. He knows what he’s doing.”

I nodded, even though nothing felt sure anymore.

That night, I curled into him on the couch, letting the sound of some movie we weren’t watching play in the background.

He stroked my hair, his fingers soft and easy. Like he didn’t notice the storm behind my stillness.

But he did.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured.

I hesitated, then asked, “Were you close with your grandfather?”

His hand paused. Then resumed. “Yeah. Very.”

“Tell me about him?”

“He was brilliant. Sharp. Knew how to read people like books. He taught me everything, how to negotiate, how to hold a room, how to think three steps ahead.”

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Chapter 109

I turned to look at him. “Was it hard when he passed?”

Liam’s jaw flexed. “Hardest thing I’ve ever survived.

Silence.

“Then why…” I swallowed. “Why are you giving up the inheritance he left you?”

He froze.

Slowly, he sat back. “What?”

“You heard me.”

His voice dropped. “Who told

you

that?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. It does.”

I sat up too. “Why didn’t

you tell me?”

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“Because it’s not your burden.”

I blinked. “Not my burden? Liam, I am the reason you’re giving it up.”

“I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

“Well, guess what? I do.”

He sighed. “Emily…”

“How many things are you going to sacrifice for me without telling me?” My voice cracked. “Do you think I want to be the reason you lose something you’ve earned?”

“I don’t care about the money…”

“It’s not just about money! It’s about your grandfather. Your legacy.”

He looked pained. “I’m not losing anything if I have you.”

My throat tightened. “That’s sweet. But it’s also terrifying. Because now I’m afraid of every step we take next.

“I just didn’t want you to feel pressured. That’s all.

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Chapter 109

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“But I am pressured. Liam. And confused. And honestly…” I took a breath. “I need a few days to think.”

His expression faltered. “Emily. Don’t do this again.”

“I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Then why do you look exactly the way you did when you ended things with me in the hospital?”

I didn’t answer.

Because I didn’t have one.

Not yet.

Liam didn’t understand what I meant when I said I needed space.

Because he spent the entire day calling. Texting. Leaving voice notes that tried to sound calm, but weren’t.

He was falling apart in his own way. And if I was honest, so was I.

Don’t overthink this, Emily.

We’re okay. You and me, we’re solid.

Please don’t shut me out.

I read every message. Every word.

I didn’t respond. Not because I didn’t want to. But because I didn’t know how.

So I packed a bag and left.

I booked a last–minute flight to New York, threw my phone on airplane mode, and disappeared for a breath.

Lisa opened the door in pajama bottoms and a wrinkled T–shirt, her hair a glorious mess. She blinked twice, then screamed.

“Shut up! You’re in New York? Are you freaking serious?!”

I dropped my bag and smiled. “Missed me?”

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She launched herself at me in a hug that knocked the breath from my chest. Her grip was bone- crushing, exactly what I didn’t know I needed.

Her apartment looked like creativity had thrown a party and forgotten to clean up. Paint–streaked jars doubled as vases, books stacked like towers on the floor, and a string of fairy lights hung lopsided across the ceiling.

The couch was buried under a patchwork of blankets, coffee mugs sat where coasters should’ve been, and a polaroid collage scattered across the wall like a scrapbook mid–sneeze.

I collapsed onto it, laughing. “Lisa. This place is a crime scene.

“This place screams me,” she said proudly, dropping onto the couch beside me.

We did catch–up first. The kind only best friends can do.

Life after school, dating disasters, dream jobs that weren’t quite dreamy, family drama we’d put

on pause.

At some point, she brought out her pinky. “Promise me something.”

I eyed her. “This better not involve blood.”

“Nope. Just this, no matter what happens, time or success, we don’t become strangers. We don’t lie to each other. Not ever.

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