“I’ll get the same thing as her,” Wilson told the owner of the shop at the cashier.

“Got it.”

After they were seated, Clara looked at Wilson’s hand and said, “Pay more attention to your hand. Don’t make it worse.”

“Yeah, alright,” Wilson nodded obediently like a child.

Two bowls of pasta were served the next moment.

Clara lowered her head as she ate. Wilson looked at her and thought of the time when they were having pasta together back then.

“I’ll learn how to make this in the future, and I’ll cook it for you on your birthday!” Clara had said with a smile.

“Are you sure that you can do it?” Wilson laughed.

“Of course!”

“I don’t want you to go through all the trouble. You can just order takeout.”

“But you can feel my love when you eat my handmade pasta. I will prepare this on your birthday every year! You have to eat what I cook to be healthy so that our future child and I can rely on you forever!”

Clara had trusted Wilson wholeheartedly back then.

However, he ha