After freshening up and changing into more comfortable clothing, Jay and I make our way downstairs to join Mr. and Mrs. Smith for dinner. As we descend the staircase, I can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia, remembering the times when I first met Jay's parents at the age of 15.
The warm aroma of a home-cooked meal wafts through the air, enticing our appetites and filling the house with a sense of festivity. I can’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal with my family. It’s been years since I had a meal with my parents. They have gotten busier over the last decade.
The dining room is beautifully set, with polished wooden furniture and elegant place settings that speak to the Smiths' attention to detail.
"Ah, you two look refreshed," Mr. Smith greets us with a warm smile as w
