Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance novel Chapter 1472

Memories from the past washed over Andre, making him gulp nervously. Meanwhile, Henry, always the little foodie, licked his lips in anticipation.

“Andre, have you had lunch yet?” Mia asked, her voice light.

Andre shook his head, playing along. She’d gone to all this trouble for him—no way he’d admit if he’d already eaten.

Mia’s face lit up. “I made it myself. Want to give it a try?”

Andre nodded. “Sure.” Even if he didn’t want to, there was no saying no.

Mia looked even more delighted, picking up the steaming bowl to bring it out. Worried she might burn her hands, Andre set their son down to walk on his own and took the hot bowl to the dining table himself.

Just then, Mia noticed two big bags sitting on the coffee table. “What’s that?”

Andre snapped his fingers as he remembered. “Oh! I got you a whole stash of ice cream. You always say summer isn’t summer without it—so I stocked up.”

Mia’s eyes sparkled. She’d been so busy lately, she’d almost forgotten about her favorite treat. Her husband, usually the ice cream police, had actually bought her a pile of it. She knew this was his way of saying sorry for being strict. “Thank you, babe!” she said, her voice suddenly sweet. Andre grinned at the new nickname.

But he still had to remind her. “Don’t go overboard. I don’t want your stomach acting up.”

“One a day, promise!” Mia said, quick to agree.

Caught up in their chat, they both forgot something important: their little boy was now a pro at walking, climbing, and getting into all sorts of trouble.

Henry had been ‘busy’ for a good two hours—he wasn’t about to miss out on whatever Mom had made.

He dragged a stool over, climbed up, grabbed his dad’s chopsticks with his tiny hands, and managed to scoop up a little mound of noodles, popping them into his mouth.

A second later, he gagged. “Bleh—”

Sure enough, there was no room for doubt.

Mia fell silent. Andre didn’t dare say a word. Henry looked absolutely miserable, drooling and wondering how his mom could be even more dangerous in the kitchen than he was on the playground.

In the end, the lunch wound up in the trash.

Andre, ever the supportive husband, tried to eat a bite and compliment her skills, but he barely managed to swallow.

Before he could get another word out, Mia whisked the bowl away and dumped it. She sat down, looking thoughtful. “Hey, have you ever dreamed of marrying the perfect wife? You know, the kind who’s elegant at parties, a genius in the kitchen, sweet, obedient, always gentle and polite, never stubborn or difficult?”

“Not once,” Andre replied, deadpan.

Mia nodded, unfazed. “Good. Otherwise, reality would’ve hit you even harder.”