Mr. President You Are The Daddy Of My Triplets novel Chapter 480

Chapter 480: 480- Tarnished

Following the maid, Aniya entered the dining area, and her eyes landed on the couple seated at the long table. Rafael was holding Marissa’s hand, murmuring something in her ear before pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

Marissa blushed and chuckled softly.

As a child, Aniya was always in awe of her parents and the effortless love between them. Even in her faded memories, she could still recall the chemistry between them-- it had always been too strong for those around them.

They must have sensed her presence because they straightened, and Marissa got up, smiling warmly, "Hello, Anaya," She walked up to her and hugged her.

Aniya closed her eyes when her nostrils whiffed the familiar scent that was part of her mom’s embrace.

"How are you feeling now?" Marissa cupped Aniya’s cheek and then gestured towards the table, "I didn’t know what you’d like to have, so I just went with this..." She trailed off and guided Aniya to the chair.

Aniya’s gaze flickered over the table. Pasta, grilled chicken, and fries. She silently thanked the heavens that it wasn’t soup.

"I hope you’ll find something you like," Rafael added, taking a sip of water from his glass.

With a nod, Aniya sat down but barely touched the food. She was too overwhelmed by the presence of these two people at the table.

She wanted to cry.

"Try this pasta, Anaya," Marissa slid the dish closer to her.

There was this odd silence at the table where Aniya was staring at her empty plate, and the couple was busy watching her.

"She must be thinking we are freaking lunatics," she whispered to her husband and raised her face when didn’t get any response from him.

He was looking at the girl, who looked like a mini version of his wife.

"Quit staring, love," she poked her finger in his arm and then gave a quivering smile to the girl, "Are- are you not hungry, sweetheart? I can make you something else if you’d like."

Aniya could see concern in her eyes, she shook her head, "Oh—no, it’s fine."

"Are you sure?" Marissa asked her, and Aniya found both of them looking at her with an expression that was quite alien.

"Ah... umm..." she gulped her saliva before speaking, "How about... pancakes?"

Marissa and Rafael blinked, and Aniya’s heart skipped a beat. Marissa thought she misheard her, "Pancakes?"

Rafael swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper, "Pancakes?" he turned his head to look at his wife.

"Yes," Aniya tried to steady her voice, "With lots of pancake syrup... and..." she thought hard, "with small chunks of dates..." That’s how Marissa used to serve them, "And ..."

She was looking for words when Rafael supplied softly, "Whipped cream?"

Anaya nodded her head wildly as a smile broke on her lips, "Yeah... whipped cream too. I would love that..."

***

Sitting at the kitchen table, Aniya’s chin rested on her palm as she watched Rafael and Marissa moving around the kitchen.

The scent of warm butter and maple syrup was filling the air, reminding her of the good days of her childhood.

Marissa walked up to her and offered her an Iranian date, "You haven’t eaten anything since last night. Just chew some of these till I prepare pancakes."

Aniya didn’t want to laugh. She was doubtful if she would be able to eat any of their pancakes. The couple was feeding her one or two bites of everything so that she wouldn’t stay empty stomach.

First, it was a bite of banana bread, then it was a rice cracker, and then it was a small scoop of homemade ice cream.

She wanted to ask Marissa if Alexander’s catering was still on.

"Honey! You’re flipping it too early," Aniya came out of her daydream when Marissa’s voice made through her thoughts. She was reaching out for the spatula in Rafael’s hand.

Rafael was quick to take it out of her reach, "Too early?" he scoffed, "You might be a pro in making pancakes. But after marriage, I’ve been the one making them."

"Oh, really?" Marissa folded her arms, "Mr. Sinclair, let me remind you. You burned the entire batch last time."

"That’s not fair," he shot a glance at Aniya, "Last night, you had that soup I made for you. Tell her how it was."

Aniya’s eyes widened when he involved her suddenly, "Soup?"

"Yeah. Tell her how it was," he waved the spatula around. _{freeweɓnovēl.coɱ}