Chapter 4 : You Decide

Emanuel turned and took a plastic bag from the drawer, "She had something to do and left. Go change your clothes."

"Thanks!" Emerson reached out and took it, heading to the bathroom.

Once inside, Emerson quickly stripped off his clothes and muttered to himself in the mirror, "Where did my abs go? They''re practically gone."

He pulled out the clothes and immediately noticed they weren''t his. They were a bit too big and black, likely Emanuel''s. Emanuel had been an athlete for a few years and was more muscular than him.

He didn''t really like black; it felt too depressing. But with no other clothes to wear, he couldn''t go out shirtless, so he put on the black T-shirt.

As for the pants, he had no expectations. Emanuel knocked on the door from outside, "Are you done?"

Emerson pulled up the pants and opened the door, "Yeah, I''m done."

As soon as he opened the door, he saw that Emanuel had taken off his white coat and put on a black T-shirt, holding Emerson''s belongings and a lunch box in one hand and Emerson''s glasses in the other.

No wonder he used to be an athlete; his movements were so swift.

When lying down, he didn''t notice, but standing up, he realized Emanuel was just a bit taller than him. He always thought Emanuel was much taller.

Seeing his little actions, Emanuel smiled helplessly, "Stop comparing. I''m 6''2"."

Emerson was 5''11", not that much of a difference.

He quickly changed the subject, "Where to?"

Emanuel glanced at his watch and handed him the glasses with his right hand, "It''s 11:30. Want to grab lunch?"

Emerson put on his glasses, touched his stomach, and shook his head. He had just eaten some porridge and wasn''t hungry at all.

"Then come with me to eat something?" Emanuel suggested.

Right, Mr. Roosevelt had been busy all morning. Emerson was full, but Emanuel hadn''t eaten yet. Thinking of this, Emerson put his arm around Emanuel''s shoulder, "Let''s go! I''ll treat you to lunch!"

Emanuel obediently followed him, curious to see what his brother would treat him to.

The confident Mr. Morgan led Emanuel to his car as soon as they left the hospital. Emanuel just smiled and said nothing.

Emerson, busy fastening his seatbelt, was already looking for a place to eat on his phone, "How about we get some rice bowls?"

"You decide," Emanuel said, tapping the steering wheel as they drove out of the underground garage.

Emerson was at a loss. What should they eat?

He remembered Emanuel liked noodles when he was a kid. So, egg noodles it was.

"Emanuel, let''s go to that noodle shop across from our old neighborhood. It''s still open," Emerson said, scratching his soft hair and glancing at Emanuel''s expression, unsure if he still liked egg noodles.

A strange look flashed in Emanuel''s eyes. After all these years, Emerson still remembered his preferences.

"Alright, sounds good," Emanuel said, entering the address into the GPS, and they drove off.

The noodle shop wasn''t far from the hospital, just a half-hour drive.

Over the years, the noodle shop hadn''t raised its prices. It wasn''t very crowded, but it always had a familiar taste, which was why Emanuel was fond of it.

The owner, Efrain Jimenez, had been running the place alone for over a decade. Seeing them arrive, he put down the dough he was working on and, with flour-covered hands, greeted them, "You''re here!"

"Mr. Jimenez, how have you been?" Emanuel spoke first, his tone respectful.

Efrain chuckled, "Good, good! I''m doing great!"

He then looked at Emerson, "Emerson! It''s been months since you last visited..."

Emerson stepped forward and pulled Efrain into a hug, "Mr. Jimenez, I''m here to see you now, aren''t I?"

"What''ll it be? Egg noodles?" Efrain asked, returning to his dough.

"Yeah."

"Two bowls?"

"Just one big bowl," Emerson quickly replied.

"Got it!"

Emanuel''s deep eyes watched him, making Emerson feel uneasy, "Do I have flour on my face?"

He reached out and brushed off the flour. "Hmm."