Chapter 11

Isabella's POV

The rest of the journey passed in silence, and I suddenly realized that Adrian hadn't changed as much as I'd imagined—

Though he had become much more mature and composed, he still retained that almost reclusive quietness from childhood.

When there was no need to speak, he simply immersed himself in his own focused world.

But whenever I initiated conversation, he would always respond.

This was rather nice, compared to Julian who was constantly chattering like a peacock displaying its feathers.

I much preferred this state of not needing excessive communication, yet both of us sharing a common life goal.

The car eventually stopped in a quiet neighborhood.

I knew the apartment rents here—basically starting at £1,500 or more.

When I was looking for housing near the hospital, I'd been attracted by the peaceful environment here.

But my empty pockets had forced me to give up.

Adrian had rented a ground-floor apartment with walk-in French windows facing a fireplace, and outside there was a modest-sized yard.

I thought this must have been specifically prepared for Lucas.

One master bedroom and one secondary bedroom, furnished simply yet everywhere revealing a sense of high quality.

The air held no musty smell, only a faint woody fragrance and the clean scent of soap.

"I'd like to wash my hands first..." I said quietly, my eyes still somewhat sore.

Adrian nodded but didn't immediately point the way. Instead, he first walked to the end of the hallway, pushed open two doors to check, then turned to point to the left: "The bathroom is here."

I looked at him with confusion: "Isn't this the house you lived in before? How do you not even know where the bathroom is?"

"Oh," he lowered his eyelids slightly, a trace of barely perceptible apology in his tone: "I haven't been back here in a long time either—"

Seeing the doubt deepen in my eyes, he paused and spread his hands.

"OK, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hide it from you. Isabella, this house was indeed arranged last night through my estate agent friend. This is also my first time coming in..."

He explained sincerely that because he'd been living abroad for years, when facing the registrar's questions today, he could only tell a small white lie to ensure we wouldn't be rejected.

Seeing my prolonged silence, Adrian's expression shifted subtly.

"Are you angry, Isabella?"

"No, of course not." I shook my head with a smile. "Thank you for thinking of my convenience, but what I'm actually concerned about is—an apartment like this must have quite expensive monthly rent, right?"

Honestly, marriage was our mutual spur-of-the-moment decision.

Yet when looking for housing, Adrian had even deliberately considered proximity to my hospital for my commute.

His thoughtfulness and consideration truly moved me.

By comparison, despite my years with Julian, he would maintain distance to avoid suspicion between an attending physician and an intern.

Even when I'd spent the weekend at his place, he wouldn't drive me to work on Monday mornings.

"Please rest assured, it's completely within my affordable range."

Adrian's confident gaze put me at ease.

Coming out of the bathroom, he led me into the master bedroom.

Half of the enormous wardrobe had been cleared out, clean and empty inside, obviously deliberately emptied for my belongings.

"You can put your clothes here first."

He said softly, his gaze settling on my face: "But are you sure you want to continue unpacking now? Or should we get something to eat first?"

From this morning until now, we'd only bought two hot dogs at a small shop outside the registry office.

I was indeed rather hungry.

But my hands didn't stop moving: "Sorry, Adrian, I'd like to organize these things while I have time."

Because I only had this one day off. Starting work tomorrow, I'd likely face another long stretch of night shifts.

"That bitch Clara can now openly make my shift schedule difficult."

I muttered under my breath, continuing to sort through my suitcase.

"She won't."

Adrian gently pulled my arm, helping up my numb kneeling legs.

"St. Cecilia Hospital has never been run by a woman named Clara."

Adrian reached out to brush away a thread caught in my hair, smiling as he entreated: "I'm truly starving, Isabella."

"Besides, I've already paid the landlady five pounds to have someone clean this place properly. So now, could my fiancée accompany me to that quite excellent D-leave nearby?"

"Today counts as our first official date—we should find a restaurant with proper atmosphere for a good meal, rather than wrestling with luggage here."

"D-leave?"

I was familiar with this restaurant's name, but in that way things completely unrelated to me are familiar—

Similar to how much the investment guru's assets increased by last month.

I'd heard colleagues at the hospital mention it was a high-end private dining establishment two streets away.

Completely members-only reservation system, and outrageously expensive.

The chef-owner was supposedly quite temperamental.

Open no more than ten days per month. Not only was there no fixed-price menu, what they cooked depended entirely on daily whim.

Perhaps precisely this gimmick and anticipation attracted many people living above average means to pay for it.

But admittedly, their cuisine was truly exceptional, especially those innovative desserts that could rival the wonderful world in my favorite film, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

My love of desserts perhaps began with that movie.

It was the most readily available dopamine in my bitter life circumstances.

Only to maintain my figure and health, I didn't indulge.

So at this moment, I looked at Adrian with curiosity: "Are you sure we're going to this restaurant?"

More than worrying whether we'd happen upon their opening day and whether we could book a table as smoothly as today's marriage application.

I felt a small anticipation for being turned away.

Yes, perhaps we should choose another more appropriately priced restaurant.

Because what worried me was my own empty wallet—

With rent, utilities, and parking all being Adrian's burden, I felt I should properly treat him to dinner.

But the problem was, my entire fortune amounted to a mere forty pounds.

Just then, my phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket.

A message from Juliet, immediately followed by a transfer notification for one thousand pounds.

[Note: Your deposit refund from the landlord!]