I'd known Jameson for over a decade.
Three years ago, news broke that he was an illegitimate child. He lost his family's support, and his company went bankrupt.
That was the hardest time for us.
I drained all my savings and told him, "It's okay. We can start over."
During that time, we could only afford to buy one portion of meat when we ate out.
He always put it in my bowl.
Thankfully, he was ambitious and smart, and his career began to recover.
But I was still haunted by those tough days, learning to live frugally.
We supported each other for three years.
Now, I couldn't understand how the groom at the wedding could be the same Jameson who was so indifferent to the outside world but always affectionate towards me.
I woke up to the smell of the soup.
It was bright outside, with birds chirping clearly in the trees.
I went to the kitchen and saw Jameson's back. He was wearing an apron tied with a bow at his waist. "You're up? The soup is ready."
He scooped a bowl of the soup and fed it to me.
The temperature was just right.
He smiled, "How's the taste?"
I nodded absentmindedly.
This calm scene made me question if yesterday had been a dream.