After Losing His Memory, He Begged My Forgiveness Novel Chapter 17 – The Dinner Table Test
It was John’s idea.
He’d asked if he could cook dinner for their daughter. “Nothing fancy,” he said. “Just… something simple. Something she likes.”
Lily hesitated for two whole days before agreeing. She set the conditions: it would be at her place, she’d be there the entire time, and it would only last an hour. He’d nodded, accepting it all without argument.
Now he stood in her kitchen, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back messily, as he carefully flipped scallion pancakes on the stove. A bowl of sweet corn soup simmered nearby. The table was already set—he remembered how she liked the cutlery placed.
Their daughter peeked around the corner.
John noticed but pretended not to.
He hummed a quiet tune. Nothing loud or theatrical. Just enough to fill the space. Lily stood nearby, arms crossed, watching.
Her daughter whispered, “He’s cooking my favorite…”
Lily crouched beside her. “Do you want to sit with us?”
There was a pause. Then a small nod.
By the time dinner was ready, the little girl was already in her seat, Mr. Bun tucked under her arm. She didn’t speak at first. Just watched as John ladled soup into her bowl.
“I used to burn this,” he said with a small smile. “But your mom taught me the right heat. She was really patient with me. Even though I was… pretty hopeless.”
She glanced at Lily, then back at him.
“You still look kind of hopeless,” she mumbled.
John laughed. “That’s fair.”
The first bite was cautious. Then another. Then more.
“Okay,” she said, eyes focused on the food. “You didn’t ruin it.”
It was the closest thing to a compliment John had gotten from her. And it landed like a sunbeam in his chest.
Conversation was slow at first. But then she started asking him questions. Did he know how to make dumplings? Could he ride a bike with no hands? What’s the biggest bug he’d ever seen?
John answered all of them.
And for the first time in forever, Lily saw something she hadn’t expected—laughter. Real, unfiltered laughter between the two of them.
When the dishes were cleared and the clock struck bedtime, John stood to leave without being asked. He thanked Lily, thanked their daughter, and stepped out into the cool night.
After he left, the little girl tugged on Lily’s sleeve.
“Mommy,” she whispered, “can he cook again sometime?”
Lily blinked.
Then nodded.
“Maybe.”
That night, as Lily folded laundry, her heart felt strangely full and achy at the same time. Like she was grieving the life she used to want… and maybe making space for a different one.
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