For Roseanne, that was a rare opportunity.


    "If you''re interested, you can take this back and have a look." He pulled out a sh drive andid it before her, "It contains all the experiment details."


    Roseanne looked up, her bright eyes sparkling with excitement. "Thanks, I''ll give it some thought."


    By ten o''clock, it was about time for Roseanne to head home.


    Owen walked her to the door.


    "I just live across the hallway. You don''t have to walk me out," Roseanne said with a chuckle.


    Yet, Owen nced at her inadvertently exposed finger, gently reminding her, "You shouldn''t keep that band-aid on for too long. Clean it with the iodine, and it''s best to let it breathe."All text ? N?velD(r)a''ma.Org.


    Roseanne instinctively curled her index finger, "Thanks. I''ll remember that."


    Owen didn''t say much more, just nodded slightly, then turned to pick up a small pot of pink sulents. "This is for you."


    Roseanne blinked in surprise, admiring the palm-sized nt with its chubby leaves that faded from green to pink, so adorable. "Really? For me? It''s so cute."


    Owen nodded sincerely. "Yeah, I was walking by a flower shop a few days ago and noticed there was just one left, so I picked it up. Consider it a thank you for that fish dinner you treated me tost time." Roseanne smiled. "I''ll ept it then. But really, we''re friends. You don''t need to be so formal next time. There''s no need for gifts."


    Her eyes twinkled like stars in the clear night sky, full of life and brightness.


    "Sure," Owen felt a soft flutter in his heart.


    ...


    York and Cliff had nned a visit to the hospital room early in the morning.


    York was carrying a lunchbox with something that resembled care and precision. "Murray, don''t say I don''t look out for you. Guess what I''ve got you here? Blueberry almondo oatmeal! Heh!"


    "Knowing your stomach''s been weak, you need something light. had my chef get up early to make this. Don''t be fooled by its modest look. It''s full of nutrients to have you bouncing back soon!"


    Cliff nced at the fragrant blueberry almond oatmeal, then at York''s smiling face, barely suppressing a smirk, wondering if York was there to deliver food or stir trouble.


    They all knew well enough that Murray wasn''t fond of soups except for the stomach-soothing oatmeal Roseanne used to make. Anything else was as good as invisible to him.


    As expected, Murray barely tasted it before grimacing and tossing the spoon aside. "Forget it! It tastes weird! Where did you find this chef? Can''t even make a decent oatmeal." York raised an eyebrow. "Come on, you''re too picky. It tastes fine to me."


    Murray''s face was expressionless. "Then you have it."


    York huffed, "It''s not really about the oatmeal, is it? My chef''s a big, tough guy, and he just doesn''t match up to a sweet girlfriend cooking you oatmeal with love, right? Oh,@ight, ex-girlfriend... My mistake.


    Weet


    "Ahem, ahem!" Cliff coughed violently, trying to stop York.


    But it was toote.


    Murray snapped, "Get out!"


    York grabbed the lunchbox. "Fine, I''m going! With that attitude, it''s no wonder Roseanne won''t return. If I were her, I wouldn''t either!"


    With that, he made a swift exit.


    Cliff chased after him, scolding, "You knew he was upset, yet you still had to step on his sore spot. You''re unbelievable!"


    York shrugged. "Even you know Roseanne is his sore spot. Yet he''s still ying tough. If he wants her to visit, why doesn''t he say it? Always trying to act all indifferent." Cliff just shook his head in disbelief.


    "Hey, Cliff, maybe you should y Cupid here?"