Chapter 872

Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as Vivian caught the aroma of frying eggs.

Rubbing her eyes, she descended the stairs to find Ethan bustling in the open-concept kitchen.

The tall man wore a pink apron, expertly flipping pancakes with practiced ease.

"Almost ready," Ethan called over his shoulder, unable to mask the excitement in his voice.

Vivian leaned against the breakfast bar, surveying the lavish spread.

From culinary disasters to Michelin-level breakfasts, his progress astonished her.

"That's enough. Come eat," she said softly.

Ethan approached with freshly made pancakes drizzled in maple syrup and fresh blueberries.

Steamed buns, eggs Benedict, freshly squeezed juice—he seemed determined to serve her every delicacy imaginable.

Tiny droplets condensed on the chilled milk glass as Vivian took small sips.

Ethan's gaze never left her. Last night, he'd nearly jumped off the couch when he heard her footsteps.

"Sleep well?" He feigned nonchalance.

Dark circles lingered under Vivian's eyes. "Fine," she replied, spearing a piece of fruit.

"Any plans today?" Ethan fidgeted with his fingers.

Vivian glanced outside. "Let's catch a movie. Maybe some shopping later."

The mall stood nearly empty during early hours. Ethan shadowed Vivian's every move.

Normally despising crowded spaces, today even the air smelled sweeter to him.

"This would suit you." He paused abruptly at a jewelry counter.

The sales associate brightened, immediately presenting a five-carat diamond ring.

Vivian stopped his reaching hand. "We're just browsing."

"But imagine how stunning it would look on you," Ethan insisted stubbornly.

Over the next thirty minutes, Vivian had to dissuade him from purchasing three bracelets, two necklaces, and a mink coat.

"Window shopping is about the experience, not emptying the store," she sighed.

Ethan pouted like a child denied candy. "I only want to give you the best."

"The best doesn't always mean most expensive." She tugged him away. "I'm hungry. Lunch is on you."

At the Italian restaurant, Ethan barely touched his food.

He watched, mesmerized, as Vivian twirled pasta around her fork, finding even the sauce on her lips endearing.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sun began its westward descent.

Their three-and-a-half-day countdown ticked steadily away.