Illicit Affairs
Arnold got back home a few hours later, arms crammed full with groceries filled in plastic bags. He managed to get his door open and dumped everything on his kitchen counter.

He got to work immediately and began to arrange the groceries where each should go.

He felt so authentic as he worked. He'd even gotten two cute aprons to feel the chef aura. He was currently wearing one of the aprons.

The menu for dinner was pasta and chicken sauce. He'd not made it since he left his old home.

He hoped he still had it in him to prepare it. He laid out all the ingredients he'd need on the counter and went over it in his head.

He put on the cooker and began to boil the pasta.

A loud knock on the door brought him out of his cooking spree.

He turned towards the direction of his front door, wondering.

"Who could that be?" he asked himself.

He wasn't expecting anyone so it was surprising.

He cleaned his hand with the towel he hung on the oven attached to his cooker.

"Did I, perhaps, order something?"
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