### Chapter 7: Breakfast Lately, it had become a rare gift for Janet to slip into a dream filled with joy. Yet, on this occasion, she found herself ensnared in a pleasant vision where Hannah received timely treatment and made a full recovery. Together, they returned home, and everything felt fresh, vibrant, and overflowing with hope. But like the abrupt chime of a siren, the insistent ringing of her phone shattered the tranquility of her dreamscape. With a groggy sigh, Janet pushed herself upright from the bed, momentarily disoriented by her unfamiliar surroundings. As her senses reawakened, it flooded back to her: she was married. The reality of her new life still felt strange, as if she were still testing the waters of an uncharted sea. Stepping out of the bedroom, her eyes fell upon Ethan, curled up on the small sofa, clutching a pillow closely. His towering frame made the couch appear insignificant, his long legs dangling over the edge. Swaddled in a gray blanket, he was a sight bathed in soft sunlight, his sharp features glowing like a deity sculpted by the finest hands. Relief washed over Janet as she realized Ethan hadn’t approached her during the night, allowing her to lower her defenses just a notch. A smile tugged at her lips as she turned toward the kitchen. Inside the fridge, she spotted eggs, bacon, and bread, untouched spices lining the shelves like unfulfilled promises. With a determined spirit, Janet donned an apron and busied herself preparing breakfast. The bacon crackled invitingly in the pan, the rich aroma of butter floating through the air like a warm embrace. Ethan stirred as the delightful scent wafted his way. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he gazed sleepily into the kitchen, a scene that sparked a wave of nostalgia in his heart. It felt almost surreal; the sight of his newlywed wife turning the mundane act of cooking into a beautiful memory he thought was lost to time. It reminded him of his own mother, who had filled their childhood home with the buttery scent of breakfast on countless mornings. Ethan brushed his fingers through his tousled hair, the dreamlike atmosphere solidifying into the tangible reality of his life now—a life shared with Janet. Noticing him sitting there, lost in thought, Janet called out casually, “Would you like some breakfast? The bread will be ready soon. You should freshen up first.” She had prepared a simple feast of sandwiches paired with soup, combining whatever they had on hand. Janet knew her way around the kitchen; Hannah had even joked about her opening a quaint little restaurant one day. Moments later, Ethan emerged from the bathroom, looking fresh and alert. He pulled out a wooden chair and sat at the table, his mouth watering at the sight of the steaming meal laid before him. As he took a bite of the sandwich, memories flooded back from years past, images of shared dinners with his mother tucked away in the corners of his mind. He had sampled cuisine from the finest establishments, yet nothing could compare to the warmth of home-cooked meals. In that moment, Janet's cooking wove the threads of time together, pulling him back to a place of comfort and happiness. Ethan's expression softened, and a genuine smile graced his lips as he regarded Janet. “It’s delicious. It reminds me of my mother’s cooking from when I was a boy.” Janet’s eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t expected such heartfelt praise for the simple breakfast she had concocted. Overwhelmed by his gratitude, she waved her hands dismissively. "Oh, I’m flattered! Just do me a favor and wash the dishes after you’re done. I have something important to attend to today." Ethan merely nodded, savoring each bite of the meal, clearly relishing the flavors that stirred memories within him. Once breakfast was finished, Janet grabbed her purse, determination etched across her face as she prepared to leave. She had responsibilities awaiting her outside the comfort of their home. Before long, the distinct sound of a luxurious black Bugatti echoed through the yard, its presence striking like a thunderclap. The door swung open, revealing Sean Johnson—Ethan’s stoic assistant, clad in a sharply tailored striped suit, bustling in with a takeout bag in hand. Believing it to be Janet returning, Ethan opened the door, curiosity in his voice. "Did you forget something?" Sean’s eyes widened at the warmth in Ethan’s tone. Was the notorious billionaire truly content with this marriage? “What are you staring at, Sean?” Ethan’s brows knitted together as he glanced outside, beckoning him into the house with an air of authority. “Come inside.” “I brought you breakfast from that Michelin-starred restaurant,” Sean replied, a hint of pride in his voice. Ethan, however, was notoriously picky about his food, adhering strictly to a select few restaurants and only the finest chefs. "I already had breakfast," Ethan shrugged, dismissing the offer as though it were a mere trifle. "You can have it if you want. Just make sure to wash the dishes in the sink afterward." Sean stood there, mouth agape, bewildered by the transformation before him. Could marriage truly change a man so profoundly in such a short time? The thought nagged at him, leaving him to ponder the unexpected depths of his boss's character.