**When She Opened the Door to the Life She Was Afraid to Live by Nora Vale Kingsley**
**Chapter 128: In Disbelief**
Drake pressed his fingers against his temple, trying to alleviate the tension that had settled there like a persistent cloud.
His voice emerged, low and measured, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within him.
“I didn’t say anything inappropriate. I merely invited her to dinner.”
With a flick of his wrist, he activated his lightcore, the screen illuminating his face as he angled it toward Thero.
Thero’s gaze darted across the chat log, and he felt his jaw tighten involuntarily, a reaction to the absurdity of the situation.
The muscles in his jaw clenched so tightly that it appeared almost painful, a physical manifestation of his disbelief.
“Mr. Smith,” he said, each word deliberate and slow, as if he were trying to guide Drake toward some elusive truth, “what possessed you to invite Ms. Emma Tibarn to dinner, only to request that she prepare it herself?”
Drake blinked, his expression serious, devoid of any hint of the gravity of his faux pas.
“Because her cooking is phenomenal.”
Thero froze, momentarily at a loss for words.
Then, a short, sharp laugh escaped him, almost catching in his throat.
He was flabbergasted, left grappling with the sheer absurdity of it all.
She had deleted him, and honestly, she was justified in doing so.
Drake frowned, confusion knitting his brow.
“What’s wrong with that?”
Thero inhaled deeply, as if bracing himself against the urge to scream.
“Mr. Smith, women are rare and invaluable. While I may not have a huntress of my own, I’ve never encountered a man who expected his huntress to cook for him.”
The esteemed Mr. Smith, the pride of the Drakonids, had truly outdone himself this time.
Drake tilted his head, his confusion palpable.
“She used to cook for me on F-268. She seemed genuinely happy to do it.”
And that was a fact he couldn’t dispute.
He was at a loss to understand why her anger had flared up this time.
Females, he mused, were a complicated puzzle he had yet to decipher.
Thero’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief.
“Wait. You made her prepare a meal for you during your very first encounter?”
He rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him.
“What precisely did Ms. Emma Tibarn say back then?”
She must have been courteous, he thought, trying to piece together the remnants of that initial interaction.
And this fool truly believed she enjoyed it.
Drake paused, gathering his thoughts before he began to recount the events.
Under normal circumstances, he would never divulge such personal details to anyone beneath him in rank.
But frustration and confusion gnawed at him, a relentless itch he couldn’t ignore.
“I sent her star coins,” he explained. “She appeared happy and agreed to cook for me.”
His brow furrowed deeper, the realization dawning on him.

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