Rufford’s POV
“Nothing,” she replied, though her lips were still curled in amusement. "It’s just… you don’t look like someone who eats much, let alone enjoys it. And now here you are, sitting and eating like a normal person. It’s kind of refreshing."
Her words should have annoyed me. Maybe a part of me wanted them to. But instead, I felt something else entirely—a strange sense of ease. It was as though I’d stumbled across someone I could actually talk to without the usual layers of formality or the weight of expectations.
As I mulled over this unsettling realization, I picked up my fork and took another bite of the food she’d prepared. The flavors were warm and satisfying, beating the empty meals I usually forced down while working late into the night.
Just as I was about to comment on
