"What are you doing, Vanessa?" A man's cool voice suddenly filled the room.

Startled, Vanessa quickly shoved the medication back in the drawer and closed it. She turned to face the tall man leaning against the doorframe, her expression sheepish, "Oh, nothing, Theodore. I was planning to make dinner, including your favorite creamy potato soup with the smoked ham. I just couldn't find any ham in the fridge."

"We don't have any smoked ham. Phoebe doesn't like cured foods," Theodore blurted out, then even he seemed taken aback by his own words.

Why did he remember Phoebe's dislikes so clearly?@@novelbin@@

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