“Besides,” Emily said, "even if someone tried to flirt with me, I wouldn't say yes.”

She hesitated, worry flickering in her eyes. “Are you really sure about quitting your job? I don't want you to give up your career because of me."

Tristan immediately picked up on her concern. His playful attitude disappeared as he leaned forward, taking both her hands in his. He looked so sincere, like he was about to make a promise.

"Don't worry. I've been planning this for years. It's not about you, so please don't feel pressured." He looked a little guilty. "I shouldn't have made it sound that way."

Emily couldn't help but laugh. She patted the back of his hand. "Alright, I believe you."

It was almost seven in the evening. Emily glanced at the clock and asked, "Are you hungry? I can make you some noodle soup."

Tristan's face lit up. "That sounds perfect."

"Give me a minute."

Emily headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge. She didn't need much, but the fridge was almost empty. The only thing inside was a lonely pack of dried noodles.

She grabbed it and closed the fridge, only to notice Tristan standing by the kitchen island, rubbing his nose with an apologetic look. "I haven't had time to go grocery shopping."

Emily thought for a second, then smiled. "It's okay. I've got plenty at my place. Let's go."

Emma George had been feeling a bit down lately, spending her days at home, mostly cooking for Emily and watching dramatic soap operas. When Emily and Tristan arrived, Emma was in the kitchen, the smell of home-cooked food filling the apartment. Emily led Tristan over, calling out, "Mom, Tristan's here."

Emma turned around and broke into a big smile. “Tristan! You're back!"

Tristan smiled back politely. "It's good to see you, Mrs. George."

Seeing her future son-in-law, Emma was extra welcoming. "Don't just stand there, come sit. You young people work so hard, you need to rest. Go relax with Emily. Dinner's almost ready. I'll call you when it's done."

Tristan wanted to help out and make a good impression. He rolled up his sleeves and stepped over. "It's really no trouble, Mrs. George. I'm full of energy. Is there anything I can do?"

He moved quickly, reaching for the vegetables in the sink. "Want me to wash or chop these?"

Emma watched him with a warm smile but tried to wave him off. "No, no, you're our guest. Go sit. I've got this."

Tristan looked determined. "I can't let you do all the work, Mrs. George. I should help.”

Emma gently took the vegetables back. “Really, just go relax. You're a guest." Tristan grabbed them again. "Washing and chopping is easy. Let me help." "You really don't have to..."

"I want to..."

Emily watched the two of them go back and forth, both trying so hard to be thoughtful it was almost funny.

She finally stepped in, grabbed the vegetables from Tristan, and tossed them back

in the sink. Then she gave Tristan a little shove on the back, ignoring his protests as she pushed him out of the kitchen.

Tristan clung to the doorframe. "Wait, hold on..."

Emily nudged his hand away. "No more arguing. You just got back. Sit down and relax. I'll make you some noodle soup."

Tristan looked at her, his eyes wide with a shy smile. "Is that really okay? Your mom is right there..."

Emma heard him and waved her hand from the kitchen. "What's there to be embarrassed about? Go on, sit down."

Emily gave Tristan another gentle push. "Go."

Tristan finally shuffled away, cheeks a little pink, looking both happy and bashful.