Chapter 82: Guiding Her Through a Call

Emerald’s POV

The instant Michael sent me the picture on WhatsApp, I downloaded and opened it.

Just looking at the bowl of creamy white-bean and kale soup was enough to make me hungry.

I could almost smell it through the screen, and I suddenly began salivating. The soup looked delicious. I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

His phone camera had also captured the rice he had prepared to go with it.

I shook my head as I looked at the picture again. Then I quickly highlighted the picture and replied.

"That looks so good."

His response came a few seconds later: "You were the one who asked me to take a picture of it."

I smiled: "I know. I just didn’t expect it to look that good."

"What exactly were you expecting?"

"I don’t know. Maybe something more ordinary."

"Creamy white bean and kale soup is ordinary."

"Not when it looks like that."

His reply took a little longer this time.

"You’re hungry."

I stared at the screen. I hadn’t thought about food until he sent me the picture.

"I wasn’t hungry before."

"And now?"

I sighed: "Now I am."

His message came almost immediately: "What are you going to eat?"

I looked around my room. My appetite disappeared slightly: "I haven’t decided."

"Go and check what you have."

I got up from my bed and went over to the small kitchenette in my dorm room. After opening the cabinet and refrigerator, I looked through the little food I had left.

A few minutes later, I returned to my room with three slices of bread and a glass of oat milk.

I took a picture of them and sent it to him. Then, after a moment, my phone chimed.

"That is your dinner?"

I looked at the message and smiled: "Yes."

"You couldn’t even toast the bread?"

I laughed quietly: "No."

"Or use a spread on it?"

"I don’t have any."

"So, you’re planning to eat three slices of plain bread and drink oat milk?"

"There is nothing wrong with that."

"There is."

I sat down on the edge of my bed: "Then you can come here and cook for me."

I had typed it as a joke. Michael’s response came after a short pause.

"What else do you have?"

I looked toward the kitchenette before sending him a reply.

"Eggs, noodles and a few other things."

"You can make egg soup and noodles."

I frowned.

"Egg soup? I’ve never eaten it before, and I don’t know how to make it."

A few seconds passed before his response came.

"You’ve never had egg soup?"

"No."

"Then I will guide you."

I smiled.

"You’re serious?"

"It’s better than allowing you to eat three slices of plain bread."

"All right."

I picked up the bread and glass of oat milk and returned them to the kitchenette. After confirming that I had everything Michael had asked for, I set my phone on the counter and called him.

He answered on the second ring.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I just thought calling would be easier than trying to hold my phone and cook at the same time."

"Now, what do you have in front of you?" he asked.

"Eggs, noodles, onions and seasoning."

"Do you have garlic?"

"Yes."

"Good. Bring out a pot and fill it with water."

"How much water?"

"Enough for the noodles and soup. Don’t fill the pot to the top."

I smiled and did as he instructed.

Over the next few minutes, Michael guided me through the preparation. I put the water on the stove, chopped the onions and garlic, then waited for it to heat up before adding the noodles.

The strange part was how easy the conversation felt. Neither of us was trying to impress the other. I was simply standing in my dorm room with him on speakerphone while he guided me through a recipe I had never made before.

A few minutes later, he told me to prepare the eggs.

"Do I whisk them?"

"Yes. Then leave the seasoning alone until I tell you what to add."

I narrowed my eyes. "You’re enjoying this."

"A little."

"I knew it," I muttered, continuing to whisk the eggs.

When the noodles had softened, Michael told me what to add next. Then, after I had followed the rest of his instructions, he told me to pour the egg in. I did.

"Emerald," he called my attention.

"Yes?"

"What did you just do?" he asked.

"I added the egg."

"You were supposed to pour it in slowly while stirring," he revealed.

I looked down at the pot. "You didn’t say that."

"I thought you knew."

"Well, now you know I didn’t," I said, then heard him laugh. "It still looks fine," I said, inspecting the soup.

"It could have looked better."

"Then next time, give clearer instructions."

He went quiet for a moment, so I called his attention. "Michael?"

"What?"

"Are you still laughing at me?"

"No."

"You are."

"I was thinking about how much easier this would be if I could see what you’re doing."

Before I could respond, my phone screen changed. Michael was requesting a video call. I smiled before accepting it.

The moment his face appeared on my screen, I became aware that I hadn’t prepared myself to be seen. My hair was loose around my shoulders, and I was still wearing the comfortable clothes I had changed into after returning to my dorm.

Michael looked equally relaxed. He was seated at his dining table, and his empty plate was still in front of him.

"You finished eating," I said.

"Yes."

"And you still stayed on the call to teach me how to cook."

His expression changed slightly. "I didn’t want you to eat those three slices of plain bread."

I smiled. "There was nothing wrong with them."

"There was everything wrong with them."

I laughed. Then he instructed me to turn the camera around. But I didn’t agree to it immediately.

"So you can continue making fun of me?" I teased.

"So I can see the soup."

I shook my head but turned the phone around.

"Lower it a little more."

I adjusted it. He looked at the pot for a few seconds before admitting that it wasn’t bad.

Then I turned the camera back toward myself. "You made it sound as though I ruined it."

"You didn’t ruin it. You simply didn’t follow instructions."

"Because your instructions were incomplete."

He smiled. "Fair enough."

For some reason, hearing that made me smile too.

Michael then continued guiding me, this time telling me exactly when to stir and what to add. When I finally turned off the stove, I looked into the pot.

The result didn’t look bad. I served some into a bowl and placed it on the counter. "Well?" I asked.

"You will have to taste it."

I picked up a spoon. Michael watched me from the screen. I blew on it slightly before taking a mouthful. I chewed. Then my eyes widened.

"Oh."

His eyebrows lifted. "What?"

"It actually tastes good."

He smiled. "You sound surprised."

"I am surprised," I admitted. I never knew this weird-looking thing would taste this good.

"Why?"

"Because I have never had egg soup before."

"And?" He raised a brow.

I took another spoonful. "I like it."

"Good."

I carried the bowl back to my room and sat down. Michael was still holding his phone, watching me.

I took another spoonful. "Thank you," I said. "For saving me from my plain bread."

His mouth curved into a smile. "You’re welcome."

Nodding, I took another bite before saying to him, "Good night."

"Good night," he replied and hung up almost immediately.