The next day.
Audrey slept well through the night, and as she went downstairs, she heard sounds of 'pitter-patter' coming from the kitchen.
Who?
This early?
Curious, she walked over and saw Clive standing by the counter, wearing an apron and holding a spatula.
She hadn't expected to see him in the kitchen in this life again...
It truly felt like a dream.
Audrey leaned lightly against the doorframe, quietly watching the person making breakfast.
It wasn't until the pungent smell of burning made her return to her senses that she realized Clive's brows were tightly furrowed, and smoke was billowing from the pan.
"What's going on?" Audrey asked as she walked over, then her face turned dark, "Clive, are you sure these are the eggs you fried?"
Back in the day, young handsome Clive's cooking was dazzling.
But what happened?
The fried eggs in front of her could scarcely compete with black coffee.
The whole kitchen was filled with a choking smoke of oil.
