Chapter 6

Elara's POV

With only three days left until my departure, Dominic, to maintain his "devoted husband" facade, purposely canceled his evening engagements, claiming he would cook dinner for me.

From the kitchen, I could hear his busy movements, punctuated by occasional phone notifications.

He thought if he put his phone on silent, I wouldn't hear it, but the frequent vibrations were jarringly loud in the quiet villa.

"Dinner's ready." Dominic emerged with the last dish. "Try this." He cut a piece of steak for me, but his eyes kept darting towards his phone on the table. Each time the screen lit up, his brows would subtly furrow.

I pretended not to notice, taking a bite. "It's delicious, thank you, darling."

"Glad you like it, eat more." Dominic smiled, but the warmth didn't reach his eyes.

To mask his distraction, he picked up a plate of lobster rolls, intending to pass it to me, but then suddenly paused.

"Oh, I almost forgot this!" He put the lobster rolls down with a look of annoyance, pushing them further away from me. "You can't eat these lobster rolls, you're allergic to seafood. You'll break out in a rash."

I looked at the plate of lobster rolls, my hand tightening around my fork.

It wasn't me who was allergic to seafood. It was Chloe.

I grew up by the sea; seafood was my favorite. Back when we were dating, he'd often shared seafood feasts with me.

Now, he'd projected his mistress's dietary restrictions onto me.

I looked up at his face, so full of feigned concern, and felt a wave of nausea.

But I didn't expose him. I simply played along, pushing away the bowl of clam chowder in front of me as well. "That's right, I completely forgot. Good thing you remembered."

"Of course. You're my wife; of course, I remember everything about you."

No sooner had the words left his lips than the phone on the table vibrated again.

This time, it was a call.

The moment the screen lit up, I clearly saw the caller ID: a cat in a lace nightgown.

That was Chloe's new profile picture, changed just yesterday.

Dominic's face subtly changed. He quickly hung up the call and placed the phone face down on the table. "Spam call. Too many insurance salespeople lately."

"Is that so?" I put down my fork and knife, dabbing my mouth with a napkin. "Since they're so persistent, maybe it's urgent? Why don't you answer it?"

"Don't bother with it." Dominic cut a piece of steak, trying to change the subject. "How's the packing coming along?"

Just then, the phone stubbornly rang again.

This time, Dominic couldn't pretend not to hear it.

He glanced at the screen, his expression growing anxious, and finally couldn't sit still anymore. "I'll take this call; there might be an issue at the office."

He grabbed his phone and strode to the balcony.

Through the glass door, I watched his retreating back.

He stood with his back to me, his shoulders relaxed. He said something into the phone, that look of helpless affection spreading across his face.

That was a look he once reserved only for me.

A few minutes later, he pushed the door open, grabbed his jacket with an apologetic expression. "Elara, things at the office are a bit complicated. I have to go in. You eat first, don't wait for me."

"Okay, go ahead." I smiled and waved him off. "Drive safe."

Dominic left quickly, probably in a hurry to see his mistress.

The door closed.

I lifted a lobster roll with my fork and took a bite.

It was good. Genuinely delicious.

A pity, then, that the hands that made it no longer held a place for me in the heart they belonged to.

I stood, carried the plate into the kitchen, and scraped every last piece into the trash.

If he'd gotten the love wrong, then the food deserved no better fate.

Dominic.

I don't love you anymore.