Seven Years Secret, I Stopped Chasing - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading Seven Years Secret, I Stopped Chasing, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of Seven Years Secret, I Stopped Chasing.
Albion's POV
The moment I read her last message, my mood soured.
Serena didn't have a problem with cilantro—she loved it. She'd always ask for extra whenever we had pasta.
Still, I hesitated before replying.
[Me: Alright.]
After hitting send, I pulled up a food delivery app, scrolled mindlessly, and sent the first decent-looking home-cooked meal straight to her office.
Later that evening, after wrapping up work, I met Stephanie for dinner.
But the second we walked into the restaurant, there she was—Serena, arm in arm with Cyril, both of them laughing like they didn't have a care in the world.
The moment she spotted us, Serena dropped Cyril's arm like it burned her and strode over.
Cyril's smile faltered for half a second before he recovered, trailing after her with an easy grin. "What a coincidence! Looks like we're too late—no tables left. Mind if we join you?"
Before either of us could answer, Serena plopped down right next to me, completely unfazed.
Stephanie's eyes nearly popped out of her head. Without missing a beat, she stood and swapped seats with her. "What's wrong with you? You can't just stick me next to your first love—how's that supposed to go?"
Now seated across from me, Serena shot me a look, irritation flickering in her eyes like she was waiting for me to say something.
I avoided her gaze and slid the menu toward Cyril instead. "Here, order whatever you want. Stephanie and I already decided."
He took it with a lazy smirk. "Albion, your cooking blows any restaurant out of the water. Seriously, it's unreal."
There it was—confirmation. She'd asked me to cook for him, not for herself. I just smiled faintly and let the comment hang.
Stephanie, ever the proud (and slightly smug) sister, jumped in. "Oh, you should've seen him—he randomly decided to take cooking classes a while back. Only guy in the room, but he stuck with it. I thought he'd bail from sheer embarrassment, but nope. Now he's a total pro. Whoever ends up with him is gonna be spoiled rotten."
Serena had been smiling faintly, but at that, her expression tightened. She took a slow sip of tea, her voice deceptively calm. "Albion, are you thinking about dating now?"
I blinked, caught off guard.
Remembering what she'd said before, I nodded. "I'm 26—probably time to start. If you know anyone, feel free to introduce me."
"Finally!" Stephanie practically vibrated with excitement. "I've been trying to set you up for years, and you always shut me down. Now that you're ready, I'll find you the perfect girlfriend!"
As Stephanie rambled, Serena's lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes locked onto mine, searching for something—anything—in my expression.
Cyril, ever the opportunist, chuckled. "Albion, you're lucky to have a sister like that. Honestly jealous. But hey, if you ask me, Serena's a great match for you. What do you think?"
"Don't say things like that," Serena snapped, though it lacked real bite. More like resigned frustration.
I nodded. "Exactly. Serena's like a sister to me. Let's not joke about that, Cyril."
Then, deliberately, I added, "Besides, you two seem way more compatible."
Her smile vanished. A sharp, humorless laugh escaped her. "Oh? Then how about I set you up with someone? Would you actually meet her?"
"Of course. Thanks in advance, Serena." My reply came instantly, my smile bright.
For the next few days, neither of us reached out.
The moment I read her last message, my mood soured.
Serena didn't have a problem with cilantro—she loved it. She'd always ask for extra whenever we had pasta.
Still, I hesitated before replying.
[Me: Alright.]
After hitting send, I pulled up a food delivery app, scrolled mindlessly, and sent the first decent-looking home-cooked meal straight to her office.
Later that evening, after wrapping up work, I met Stephanie for dinner.
But the second we walked into the restaurant, there she was—Serena, arm in arm with Cyril, both of them laughing like they didn't have a care in the world.
The moment she spotted us, Serena dropped Cyril's arm like it burned her and strode over.
Cyril's smile faltered for half a second before he recovered, trailing after her with an easy grin. "What a coincidence! Looks like we're too late—no tables left. Mind if we join you?"
Before either of us could answer, Serena plopped down right next to me, completely unfazed.
Stephanie's eyes nearly popped out of her head. Without missing a beat, she stood and swapped seats with her. "What's wrong with you? You can't just stick me next to your first love—how's that supposed to go?"
Now seated across from me, Serena shot me a look, irritation flickering in her eyes like she was waiting for me to say something.
I avoided her gaze and slid the menu toward Cyril instead. "Here, order whatever you want. Stephanie and I already decided."
He took it with a lazy smirk. "Albion, your cooking blows any restaurant out of the water. Seriously, it's unreal."
There it was—confirmation. She'd asked me to cook for him, not for herself. I just smiled faintly and let the comment hang.
Stephanie, ever the proud (and slightly smug) sister, jumped in. "Oh, you should've seen him—he randomly decided to take cooking classes a while back. Only guy in the room, but he stuck with it. I thought he'd bail from sheer embarrassment, but nope. Now he's a total pro. Whoever ends up with him is gonna be spoiled rotten."
Serena had been smiling faintly, but at that, her expression tightened. She took a slow sip of tea, her voice deceptively calm. "Albion, are you thinking about dating now?"
I blinked, caught off guard.
Remembering what she'd said before, I nodded. "I'm 26—probably time to start. If you know anyone, feel free to introduce me."
"Finally!" Stephanie practically vibrated with excitement. "I've been trying to set you up for years, and you always shut me down. Now that you're ready, I'll find you the perfect girlfriend!"
As Stephanie rambled, Serena's lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes locked onto mine, searching for something—anything—in my expression.
Cyril, ever the opportunist, chuckled. "Albion, you're lucky to have a sister like that. Honestly jealous. But hey, if you ask me, Serena's a great match for you. What do you think?"
"Don't say things like that," Serena snapped, though it lacked real bite. More like resigned frustration.
I nodded. "Exactly. Serena's like a sister to me. Let's not joke about that, Cyril."
Then, deliberately, I added, "Besides, you two seem way more compatible."
Her smile vanished. A sharp, humorless laugh escaped her. "Oh? Then how about I set you up with someone? Would you actually meet her?"
"Of course. Thanks in advance, Serena." My reply came instantly, my smile bright.
For the next few days, neither of us reached out.
End of Seven Years Secret, I Stopped Chasing Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to Seven Years Secret, I Stopped Chasing book page.