The Billionaire's Pretend Wife (Isabella)
Chapter 58 Fifty Eight

When Isabelle got home that evening, she found Jacob in the kitchen, cooking dinner. She hadn't known that he could cook, so she was surprised to replace him busy minding the pots as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

"I didn't know you could cook," she said, making her way to the refrigerator. Opening it, she took out a bottle of water and uncapped it.

Jacob looked at her and gave her a small smile. Small or not, it was enough to cause a riot of butterflies in her stomach. But just as quickly as they had appeared, they disappeared. The memory of last night reared its ugly head, and the giddy feeling was replaced by sadness.

"I used to help my mother when cooking," he replied, opening one pot and stirring whatever was cooking. From her spot, she caught the mouthwatering smell of steak. Her stomach growled in response, and he chuckled. "It's almost ready. Busy day?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she replied, and then hooked her thumb towards the bedrooms. "I'll go clean up and join you."

Maybe having dinner together would be a step towards ending the animosity between them. Animosity that she was the only one fuelling, she admitted.

After having a shower and changing into comfortable clothes, she joined him in the kitchen. She found that he was already done cooking and was bringing the dishes to the table. She offered to help, but he instructed her to sit and wait.

Eventually, after he had brought out all the dishes, they had dinner together. The aromas wafting from the dishes were already mouthwatering enough, but when Isabelle tasted her first forkful of the steak, she couldn't help but release a delighted moan.

"This is not fair," she said, giving him a wide-eyed look.

"What is not?" he asked, looking perplexed.

"Why have you been hiding your culinary skills? Were you afraid I'll lock you in the kitchen and demand that you feed me every day?" she teased.

His expression relaxed, and he laughed. "You're flattering me."

She shook her head and picked up a spoon to get a taste of the stew. "You know I'm not. This is so good." She tasted the stew and shut her eyes momentarily. "Wow. How can you stand my food when you know you can cook like this?"

"Now, you're being too humble," he called her out. "But I wouldn't mind feeding you every day if it made you happy," he added with a wink.

She smiled at his jest, loving how the dinner was turning out. This was so much better than when they were at loggerheads. When he looked down at his food, her eyes shifted to the marks on his face. Seeing them brought back memories of the previous night. His actions had shocked her, and she hadn't been sure how they would interact after that. Since they were having dinner together, she supposed it was safe to forget about it.

While she mulled over the incident during the day, she figured that he must have thought seducing her would stop her being mad at him. But how on earth did he think trying to force himself on her would work? Was that how he solved issues with his past girlfriends?

She sighed. It didn't matter. Well, as long as he didn't try it again.

As she thought more of the previous night, her appetite waned, and no matter how delicious the food was, she couldn't bring herself to clear her plate. Were they ever going to talk about it? Or were they going to proceed as if nothing had happened?

When Jacob finished his dinner, he gave her unfinished food a glance. "Were you pulling my leg about my food being delicious?"

She gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm full." Rather, her stomach was full of butterflies once again, but the reason was not as pleasant as his smile causing her heart to go aflutter.

"Well, let's not waste any food," he said, reaching for her plate and bringing it to his side.

God, now, she felt guilty that after he had taken his time preparing such a good meal for them, she was wasting it.

He looked up at her and upon seeing the guilty look on her face, said, "I just need an excuse to eat your leftovers, that's all."

She gave a small smile and looked down at her hands.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, and she looked up to replace him looking at her softly. "I'm sorry for having doubted you. I know you're not that kind of person, I just..." He shook his head. "It was bad judgement on my part. It was a stupid mistake, and I'm sorry for hurting you. It'll never happen again, I promise."

Isabelle's heart swelled as she looked into his eyes as he apologised, and she knew with every fibre of her being that he was being sincere. The way he was looking at her, it was like his heart was in his eyes, his soul bared to her, and she had to look away quickly before she did something embarrassing like tear up.

She knew it wasn't all his fault. It was true that they had spent a lot of time together and gone through many experiences that should have made it clear to him that she wasn't the kind to do such a thing for money.

But, it was also true that before they had married, the things he had heard about her were all related to Naomi. While it hurt that he didn't give her the benefit of doubt before making accusations, she understood why he did it if he knew about Naomi's reputation of being extravagant.

She herself knew that her sister wouldn't hesitate to sell the ring if she were in financial trouble. And whose fault was it that somewhere in his brain, he still associated her with what he had heard about the Cruzes' eldest daughter?

Hers.

It was unfair to expect him to have her personality figured out when she was lying about her identity.

Did she even have a right to get mad that he didn't trust her when she was busy deceiving him?

"It's okay," she told him, gathering the courage to look back up at him. Would he hate her when he discovered the truth? Those eyes that were looking at her with so much gentleness, could she bear to have them look at her with hate? She forced herself to tamp down on the negative feelings and focus on the present. "I forgive you. Let's forget about it."

His face broke into a wide smile. "Really? You're not mad at me anymore?"

"I'm not," she assured him. "I understand where you were coming from. We are pretty much strangers, after all."

He frowned and shook his head. "No, we are not. I've been around you long enough to know what kind of person you are. There's no excuse for what I did. I was being a paranoid, judgmental asshole."

If he kept saying things like that, those tears she was fighting so hard to keep away would overwhelm her.

Jacob reached into his pocket and when he showed his hand, he was carrying the sapphire ring. "Will you wear this again?"

She reached for the ring and held it in her fingers, admiring the beautiful stone. Then she looked up at him and shook her head. "I won't," she told him, and his face fell. "If you want me to wear a ring so others know I'm married, get me a normal one. This one is too special."

He should give his mother's ring to someone he loved, not his pretend wife. She also didn't trust herself not to lose it again.

"Oh," he said, accepting the ring from her. "I guess I can do that."

The next morning, Isabelle was preparing breakfast sandwiches when she felt a presence behind her. Before she could turn around, Jacob hugged her from behind and held a velvet box in front of her. Her heart rate shot to the heavens at his sudden proximity, her mouth going dry. The knife she was using clattered to the counter as her limbs turned to jelly.

"Here, this is yours," he told her, indicating the box. His deep morning voice sent shivers coursing down her spine.

She had to clear her throat before mumbling unintelligibly, "Uh?"

"I got you a normal ring," he explained.

Oh. The ring. But how had he gotten it already? They had only talked about it last night, and it was early in the morning.

Ignoring the logistics, she took the box from him and opened it, hoping he didn't notice her trembling fingers. Inside lay an eye-catching diamond ring.