Emma watched the whole scene unfold with a satisfied smile, then reached out and took Emily’s hand. “In a relationship, both people need to give a little. I always see Tristan cooking for you, but I hardly ever see you cooking for him. Good job turning the tables today.”
Emily just nodded while she grabbed a few eggs from the fridge, not really committing to anything.
Emma wasn’t done. She lowered her voice, as if sharing a secret. “But listen, just because you’re doing something nice doesn’t mean you should do it all the time. Don’t cook for a man too often.”
Emily paused, eggs in hand. “What?”
Emma glanced toward the living room, then gently set the eggs down and pulled Emily in closer. She leaned in and whispered, “Let me give you some advice. Men can be greedy. The moment you start doing one thing for them, they’ll expect you to do everything. If you don’t want to end up exhausted, just act like you don’t know how to do housework. Don’t cook, don’t clean, just let him handle it. That way, he’ll feel needed, like the house can’t run without him. You just need to praise him sometimes, or maybe cook something once in a while to make him happy. But don’t work too hard, or you’ll end up stuck doing everything. Trust me, I’m saying this for your own good.”
Emily couldn’t help laughing, though she tried to hide it. “Mom, Tristan isn’t like that.”
Emma patted Emily’s hand. “You never know. Just in case. This is what experience looks like. Your dad, for example. After we got married, he did most of the cooking and cleaning. He never even realized I could cook.”
A bit of sadness flickered in her eyes. “I wish I had cooked for him at least once before he passed away.”
She quickly straightened up. “But anyway, you really do need to focus on your career. You have so many people depending on you at work. Don’t let housework slow you down, okay?”
Emily could only sigh inside. What else was there to say?
She smiled. “Alright, Mom. I hear you.”
Emma gave her shoulder a proud pat. “Good girl. Now go make those noodles.”
Noodle soup wasn’t hard. Emily had watched Tristan do it a few times, so she remembered the steps. Soon enough, her clear broth noodles were ready, and Emma had finished her own four dishes and a soup. Everything looked and smelled amazing.
Emily shooed Tristan away when he tried to sneak a bite. “Wash your hands first.”
After dinner, Emma refused to let either Emily or Tristan help with the dishes. She insisted they spend some time together instead.
Later, after they had chatted for a while, Emily told Tristan it was time to go. “You’ve worked all day. Go home, shower, get some rest. We can talk tomorrow.”
Tristan pulled her toward the doorway and glanced at the kitchen, then fixed his gaze on her. His eyes were so beautiful and intense, Emily felt her heart skip a beat.
She looked at him, a little flustered. “What is it?”
He leaned closer, his voice soft and sticky sweet in her ear. “Aren’t you forgetting my goodnight kiss?”
Emily met his bright, hopeful eyes and couldn’t help but laugh.
He moved in, eyes sparkling even more. “Well? Do I get one?”
Emily bit her lip, then quickly kissed his cheek.

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