Find me in your labyrinth (Stella and Jonathan) novel Chapter 2515

“Really?” Eugene chuckled, immediately calling over the waiter and ordering another bowl of tomato cream soup.

The soup arrived quickly. Eugene took a sip, and his eyes lit up with delight. “This is fantastic—especially whatever they’ve fried and put in here. It’s so flavorful when you bite into it.”

“Croutons,” Sylvia said with a smile.

“They’re delicious!” Eugene grinned, tipping the bowl to drink a generous mouthful.

By the end of the meal, he’d barely touched any of his other dishes, but the entire bowl of tomato soup was gone.

After they finished eating, they left the restaurant together. Sylvia said her goodbyes, “I drove here, so I’ll head out first!”

“Wait up!” Eugene called, hurrying over to his own car.

He opened the passenger side and came back carrying two shopping bags, which he handed to Sylvia. “These are some nourishing dessert jars I made for you. You work so hard and barely have time to cook. Have one every day—it’s good for you.”

Sylvia immediately shook her head. “You really don’t need to do this. If I need something, I can get it myself.”

“They’re not store-bought,” Eugene insisted, arm still outstretched, his expression earnest. “I had someone at home prepare them from scratch, simmered for hours, and sealed them fresh in jars. It’s much cleaner and fresher than anything you’d buy. Trust me.”

“Honestly, I—”

Before Sylvia could finish refusing, Eugene walked straight over to her car, opened the passenger door, and placed the bags inside.

“They’re already made. It’d be a shame to let them go to waste,” he said, shutting the door. “Just remember to warm them up in the microwave before eating—don’t have them cold.”

Sylvia didn’t argue further. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. Head home and get some rest, all right?” Eugene’s smile was gentle. “Work can wait until tomorrow. You’re off the clock now—let yourself relax for once. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

When she got home, Sylvia carried the jars upstairs and set them on the dining table before heading off to shower.

Later, after catching up on some paperwork, it was late at night and she was about to go to bed when she finally remembered the jars on the table.

She carried them into the kitchen, meaning to put them in the fridge. As she took one out, she paused, surprised. There was a label on the lid—a drawing of a pretty little girl in a baseball cap, her expression cocky and playful, with a caption beside her: “The most important thing in life is to be happy!”

Curious, Sylvia checked the other jars. Sure enough, each one had its own label, every single one adorned with Eugene’s hand-drawn doodles—sometimes a cute animal, sometimes a silly face, sometimes a funny little character.

He must have studied art at some point; the drawings were lively and full of personality, and it was obvious he’d put real care into them.

Each message was unique. Some reminded her to get to bed early, others wished her sweet dreams, a few cracked a joke or two.

Twenty-four jars in total, twenty-four individual notes. Sylvia was deeply touched—and at the same time, she felt a heavy sense of guilt. She owed Eugene far too much.