I was in a daze for the rest of the day. After work, I walked Lily home as usual. It was deep winter, the wind bitingly cold, slicing right through my coat and making me sneeze.
Lily had been watching me worriedly the whole way, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. When we reached her building and I turned to leave, she called me back and wrapped her own scarf around my neck.
It still held her warmth, making my head swim a little.
"Good thing it's dark—no one can tell this scarf doesn't match your coat," she said, grinning. "Just remember to give it back tomorrow."
Then she hesitated, biting her lip, looking at me as if working up her courage. My heart did something inexplicable—I felt both blank and panicky.
She spoke first: "Cheer up, okay? Once this busy period is over, things will get better. You can do it!"
And then she leaned in, rose onto her toes, and kissed me lightly on the cheek.
My brain completely shut down. I stared at Lily, whose face had turned red. I could see she was nervous—her eyes held a mix of shyness, encouragement, and expectation.
All the questions I'd been agonizing over came flooding back, and in a moment of panic, I blurted "I'm sorry" and fled.
---
Another sleepless night.
Two days without proper rest left me looking like a walking ghost.
But that wasn't the worst part.
Lily looked even worse—pale, eyes swollen and red, the picture of exhaustion.
I steeled myself to return her scarf. She took it in silence. Neither of us said a word. The atmosphere was agonizing. I was about to slink back to my desk when Lily held out a thermos.
"I'm sorry... I think I misunderstood." She forced a smile, though sorrow leaked through. "But you still need to eat properly."
I took the thermos and tried to say something—anything.
But until Lily was called away by our manager, I couldn't produce a single word.
---
At lunch, Lily was gone.
Our manager had sent her on an urgent business trip. She'd rushed home to pack and went straight to the airport.
I opened the thermos. Steam rose, carrying a rich, savory aroma. Inside was old hen soup—clear and golden, glistening with droplets of oil. It tasted wonderful, mild and deeply comforting. A few sips, and my whole chest warmed.
But as I reached the bottom, a faint bitterness seeped through the delicious broth.
Just like the mood Lily must have been in when she made it.
I froze.
---
I found Lily's apartment key hidden under the most colorful flower pot by her door.
She'd left in a hurry and asked me to take care of her cat. The kitten had grown fast—in just two months it was already looking like a full-sized cat, fluffy and plump and affectionate, meowing and rubbing against my legs the moment I walked in.
I played with the cat for a bit, then set out food and cleaned the litter. The kitten, not happy about being ignored, hopped onto the desk and knocked a folder onto the floor, scattering papers everywhere.
After I shooed the cat away and scolded it, I crouched down to pick up the scattered pages—and accidentally glimpsed my own name in Lily's handwriting.
Curiosity won. I read the pages.
They were a hybrid of cookbook and diary.
---
August 16
First day at the new job. There's a weird guy in my department—at the welcome dinner, he looked like he was being sent to the execution ground. Are the cafeteria meals really that bad? I was getting nervous just watching him!
August 22
Same weirdo from work actually dared to steal my favorite sticky rice ribs at the welcome dinner! I secretly counted—he ate almost the entire dish! First time I've met someone who likes sticky rice ribs as much as I do. Fine, I'll let it slide this time.
PS: The guy is super skinny. Definitely doesn't eat enough.
September 2
Caught Rib Guy staring at me during work, then pretending he wasn't. Terrible acting skills. Hmm... could it be my irresistible charm? Hahaha.
September 10
Actually, Rib Guy is pretty decent. Taught me a lot of useful things at work. Not the creep I initially thought—seems like a stand-up guy.
September 20
Rib Guy actually asked me out to dinner! Hehe... does he have a crush on me?
September 21
First time I've seen someone enjoy eating that much. Slightly alarming. But he's much more polite than I expected, let me order everything, and kept complimenting my ordering skills. Made me a little embarrassed.
October 8
I'm certain Rib Guy likes me! Why else would he keep finding excuses to eat with me and take walks? But I really don't mind—he's actually pretty fun once you get to know him, haha.
October 12
Heard the rumor at work that Rib Guy is terrible at ordering food. Tested it today. Confirmed—an entire table of inedible disaster. Bleh. Must erase this meal from memory immediately.
October 18
He said he's happy every time he eats what I order. Is that... a confession?
October 26
Stupid landlord forced me to move today. If he hadn't helped, I honestly don't know what I would have done. He's reliable, and warm, and kind of cute, hehe. Seeing him enjoy my cooking so much makes me happy too. He's so skinny—I really want to fatten him up!
PS: Why did he say he wants to eat my cooking forever? Is he trying to confess? If so, stop being so vague! Argh! This is killing me!
November 1
Found an abandoned kitten. Just as lonely as I am.
But he likes cats too. That's great.
November 15
I don't mind working late at the office if it means he'll walk me home.
November 27
He says he doesn't like cilantro. Okay, noted. Must remember.
December 6
Caught a cold. Stuffy nose, awful headache.
But he came to visit me, and that made me kind of happy.
December 14
Work is so exhausting lately. He's working himself to death too. I need to cook even better meals for him!
December 22
I like watching him eat my cooking with that happy expression on his face.
I like seeing him happy.
Because I like him.
...
The remaining pages were Lily's records of every dish and every interaction between us.
The relationship grew closer, the food grew better.
I suddenly realized that Lily's power—and mine—had a dimension I'd never detected.
When you love someone more than yourself, the person eating the food you've chosen can taste your feelings in every bite.
---
Lily was away on business for an entire week.
When she came back, still carrying the fatigue of her trip, she put on a brave face and asked if I'd been eating well.
I started to nod, then shook my head.
She looked confused, but I didn't explain that I'd just spent my first stretch of days in ages where I couldn't taste a thing.
My longing for Lily had completely overwhelmed my obsession with food, rendering my terrible superpower inert.
Because I didn't care what I was eating anymore.
I was simply thinking about her.
This was the one and only way to break my power.
But that wasn't what mattered most. What I cared about was whether Lily would agree to have dinner with me again, this weekend.
She looked surprised and a little uncertain, but under my nervous gaze, she nodded.
"At least we're still dining buddies," she said, forcing composure. "Am I still ordering?"
"No." I smiled and shook my head. "This time, I choose."
---
This dinner was at my place. The dish I served was sticky rice ribs—the one I'd spent a whole week practicing.
Lily held her chopsticks over the plate, hesitating, clearly still traumatized by my past ordering disasters.
"Don't worry," I urged. "This time will be different."
She finally picked up a rib and bit into it, chewing slowly. Her eyes brightened. "It's good."
The next second, tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked at me with disbelief. "You..."
But I was smiling.
My hypothesis was confirmed—each of us could taste the other's feelings in the food.
The difference was that Lily, who already possessed the "ordering makes food delicious" power, loved me, making her already-good dishes even more delicious for me alone.
As for my "ordering makes food awful" power—it wasn't set in stone. Whenever I cared more about whether the person I loved could enjoy the meal than I cared about enjoying it myself, my power shifted, and what I ordered became delicious.
No one else in the world could trigger this change in me.
So this was food that would only ever be delicious for her.
I reached out and gently wiped the tears from Lily's face, explaining my discovery as calmly as I could. But she kept crying, so I pulled her into my arms and patted her back. "Don't cry. The food's getting cold."
She didn't listen—she cried even harder.
I wasn't in a rush. I just held her and let her cry until she was done.
If this meal gets cold, that's fine. We have next time, and the time after that, and the time after that.
Eating well, day after day, with a girl who loves food and knows how to cook—that will be the happiest thing in my life.
I'm truly looking forward to it.
Author: Willow Page