If you need help, asking will not hurt.

When Dominic arrived in the kitchen, Heaven was already making something. She had her hair in a high, messy bun and an apron on her front. He folded his arm under his chest, leaning his side against the jamb of the entrance, eyes on his wife.

Heaven was humming while chopping something.

'Miriam did say she had been in the kitchen,' he recalled, studying how efficient Heaven was with the knife. 'I doubted it, but it seemed Miriam wasn't lying. Had she always liked cooking?'

Strange as it may sound, even though Heaven and Dominic were married for five years, they almost knew nothing about each other. Although, unlike her, Dominic still has an idea about her favorites and dislikes. He married a stranger, but that didn't mean he had to keep her as a stranger since she was carrying their son.

'Did I miss it?' he wondered, recalling all the information he knew about Heaven. If his memory served right, Heaven didn't know how to cook. She could make simple meals, but that was it.