"Ovior… this is…" Dorothy stared at the table.
"I asked our chef to cook your favorite meal. I hope they suit your taste," Ovior said.
Dorothy teared up once again. She realized how wrong she was to doubt his feelings for her. If she could, she would scold herself so badly for overthinking. The more she doubted him, the more she disrespected him. She wanted to question her morality at this point.
Although she was being unreasonable toward him, he didn't get mad at her. He even requested the chef to prepare her favorite meal. She got a fancy place to stay, the clothes and food she preferred and a man with a heart of gold. She couldn't ask for more.
Noticing her breaking into tears, Ovior panicked. He came forward and asked, "Do you not like the food? Should I tell the chef to prepare something else for you?"
