My mind was still processing his words as I continued to stare at him for God knows how long before the word finally tumbled out of my mouth.
"What?"
He was still frowning at his phone, his dark brows pushed together when he spoke. "Sothing about an ergency at work. They would need to reschedule for another ti."
He paused for a bit, letting the silence wrap around us before his eyes lifted to et mine. "But since we are here anyway, why not just enjoy so good food before we go?" He suggested with a casual shrug.
A loud sigh rushed out of my lips as I slumped back into my seat. I could finally relax now that I didn’t have to be stressing about a eting that wasn’t happening.
"Damn, could you sigh louder the next ti? I almost couldn’t hear you."
When we locked gazes again, a slight smirk played on his lips, amusent twinkling in his dark eyes. I cleared my throat, quickly adjusting my posture so that I was sitting upright.
"I—I was just—"
He raised a brow, and a chuckle escaped from his parted lips. "Is it that bad to have dinner with ? I didn’t think I was such a bad company."
My eyes grew wide, and I hated how flustered I got when he teased . "No, it’s not—it’s not that—"
"I’m just teasing. Order sothing, my treat."
"No way, you already paid for my dress, I’m not letting you pay for my al too."
"First of all, this is a work dinner, so I’m not letting my employee pay. Secondly, what kind of man am I if I let you pay?"
He was right, at least about the first part. I was left speechless, unable to retort like I wanted to. I pressed my lips into a tight line and nodded. "Fine." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Thank you, then."
I lowered my gaze to the nu lying on the table in front of , pretending to study the dishes even though I could barely focus on the words, as my mind was only zoned in on one thing, and one thing only.
I had sohow ended up on a date at a fancy Italian restaurant with my ex. Great. At least there’s free food.
"You ready?" His voice jolted back, and my eyes snapped up to et his.
I wasn’t. But I said the first thing that my eyes landed on. "Yeah, I’ll get the vongole, please."
"Sure." I watched as he gestured for the server with a slight smile on his lips.
The young man approached our table with the default custor service smile plastered across his face. "Good evening, sir and ma’am, what can I get for you today?"
Rhys politely greeted the man while this strange feeling stubbornly lingered in my chest, like a pest I couldn’t get rid of.
"Can I get a vongole and...a dium steak, please. Thank you."
"Of course, any drinks for you?"
"That will be all." But just as the server was about to walk away, he called him back again. "Oh, and for the vongole, no parsley, thanks."
He rembers.
But across from , he leaned back lazily against his seat, one arm resting along the backrest as if he didn’t have a single worry in the world, as if everything was normal. As if we were out on a casual date, and he was ordering my food for , rembering how I like my food, and what I didn’t like.
anwhile, my heart still hadn’t settled down.
"Why are you sitting so stiffly?" he suddenly asked.
I blinked and looked up. "I’m not."
His eyes swept over once before the corner of his lips curled upward. "You look like you’re attending a board eting instead of dinner."
Heat crept into my cheeks. Without thinking, I imdiately relaxed my shoulders, only for him to let out a low chuckle.
"You really listened. What a good girl."
I shot him a glare. I could feel the frown taking residence between my brows. "Can you stop making fun of for one second?"
"Why?" His gaze stayed fixed on , dark eyes glinting under the warm restaurant lights. "I’m enjoying it."
I scoffed, looking away when his voice broke through the silence that settled over us.
"So..." I looked up again. "How are you finding work so far?"
The question caught off guard. I had expected criticism. Instructions. Maybe even another sarcastic comnt. Not...whatever this is.
"It’s been good," I answered honestly after a mont. "Stressful, but good."
His brows lifted slightly. "Stressful because of the workload?" I hesitated. "Or stressful because of ?" he added, and I didn’t miss the teasing tone in his voice.
"I think you already know the answer to that," I muttered under my breath.
A laugh escaped him this ti, low and rich enough to make several nearby won glance our way. And I oddly felt jealous that they were looking at him, but I quickly pushed that ridiculous feeling away.
"Of course I do."
"Then why do you ask?" I stared at him suspiciously. "Are you always like this outside of work?"
"Like what?"
"Annoying."
His smirk deepened. For a second, he simply looked at without speaking. Then he rested his chin lightly against his hand and said, almost lazily.
"Only around you."
My heart skipped so hard it physically hurt. This was not normal. I needed to calm down. I sucked in a deep breath, desperate to change the topic instead of confronting the feeling swirling around in my chest.
But he beat to it. "Can I ask you sothing?" He asked out of the blue, his expression turning serious this ti, all traces of amusent gone. "How had your life been all this ti? That Lucas guy...he’s the one you married seven years ago?"
I knew exactly why he was asking this. After all, he had just witnessed shouting about a divorce at the hospital just last night. Of course, he was curious. Of course, he wanted to know.
I used to think that he would find joy in my suffering, that I finally got my karma being stuck in this loveless marriage with a horrible husband after what I did to him. But I didn’t find any amusent or joy in his features. In fact, he wore a heavy look, like he was genuinely concerned. Like he really cared.
The words sat at the tip of my tongue as I slowly summoned the courage to tell him the truth. To tell him what Lucas and Jessica did to , to tell him that I had no mory of what happened that one night.
But just as I was about to speak, a shrill voice pierced through the air. And before I could even react, icy water ca splashing across my face.
"You whore!"
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