Chapter 62
Elodie’s POV~
Since Liora was mostly fine now, I probably didn’t need to stay the night.
The thought should’ve brought relief, but instead it just felt empty.
The porridge was still simmering downstairs. I sat in Liora’s room for a little longer, watching her sleep, before I finally forced myself to leave.
When I got to the kitchen, Sabina was already there, standing by the stove. “I’ll watch the pot, Luna. You must be exhausted. Please, sit down and rest p>
I nodded and walked out into the hallway.
That’s when I saw him.
Dante was sitting in the living room, newspaper in hand, looking completely at ease. Like this was just another normal evening. Like nothing was wrong.
He glanced up when he heard my footsteps. Our eyes met for a brief second.
Then he went right back to his paper.
Dismissed. Again.
I stood there for a moment, feeling stupid. In the past, I would’ve gone over and sat next to him. Would’ve tried to be close without disturbing him, just happy to share the same space.
But now?
Now we had nothing to say to each other.
I turned and headed back toward the stairs.
He didn’t call after me. Didn’t ask me to stay. Didn’t even look up.
I made it halfway up before I stopped, confused by my own thoughts.
I’d been so sure he was going to confront me about what happened with Sienna at the banquet. About Johnny refusing to hire her. About how we’d “humiliated” her.
But he hadn’t said a word.
Was he waiting? Building up to something worse? Or did he just… not care enough to even argue with me anymore?
I didn’t know which option hurt more.
“Mommy p>
I turned to see Liora standing at the top of the stairs, looking pale and tired but awake. She was rubbing her eyes with one small fist.
“Hey, baby. You’re up.” I climbed the rest of the stairs and touched her forehead, it was still warm, but better than before. “How are you feeling p>
“Hungry. Is the porridge ready p>
“Almost. Let me check p>
I went back downstairs with her following behind me, and when we got to the kitchen, Sabina smiled. “It’s done, Luna. Perfect timing p>
Relief washed over me. At least I could do this right.
I started ladling porridge into a bowl, and I was about to bring it out to the dining table when I realized Dante had followed us.
He stood in the doorway, watching.
I set the bowl down in front of Liora, and she looked at it, then looked up at me with those big eyes. “Mommy, why is there only one bowl? Isn’t Daddy eating too p>
My hand froze on the ladle.
I hadn’t thought about making him a bowl. Hadn’t even considered it.
Before I could figure out what to say, Sabina jumped in with that kind smile of hers. “I’ll get another bowl for the Alpha p>
Out of habit, I’d made extra porridge, Liora never ate much, and there was always enough left over. In the past, Dante and I would share what remained.
But that was before.
Now I just stood there, feeling awkward, as Sabina handed me another bowl.
I filled it mechanically and set it down across from Liora. Then I made myself a small portion, even though I wasn’t hungry at all.
The three of us sat at the table.
Like a family.
Except we weren’t. Not really. Not anymore.
Liora started eating her porridge, making happy little sounds because it was exactly the way she liked it. That small thing, knowing I could still do this for her, should’ve felt good.
Instead, it just made me sad.
Because this was temporary. This moment. Soon she’d be better, and I’d leave, and everything would go back to how it was.
Me on the outside. Them moving on without me.
The silence was suffocating.
Dante had already taken off his watch and rolled up his sleeves, stirring his porridge with that same careful, elegant precision he did everything with.
It used to fascinate me, the way he moved. Every gesture of his absolutely graceful.
Now it just felt like watching a stranger.
Liora took a small sip and her whole face lit up. “I missed this so much! It’s so good, Mommy p>
Sabina smiled warmly from where she stood by the counter. “Now that you’re back in the country, you can have it whenever you want p>
“Yayyy p>
Liora beamed, and for a second I saw her glance between Dante and me, like she was waiting for one of us to say something. To fill the silence that had settled over the table like fog.
But Dante just kept eating, his eyes on his bowl.
And I had nothing to say.
Liora seemed to sense the tension or maybe she was just too young to care because she leaned over and pressed herself against my arm, her voice dropping to that sweet, pleading tone. “Mommy, will you sleep in my room tonight? Please p>
I opened my mouth to say no. To tell her I needed to go back to my apartment, that I had work in the morning, that—
But then I looked at her face. Still pale. Still tired. Still recovering.
“Okay,” I heard myself say. “I’ll stay p>
Her smile was worth it. Even if being in this house felt like suffocating.
Liora only managed to finish one bowl, and Dante barely touched his. There was still porridge left in the pot when we got up from the table.
“I want to take a bath,” Liora announced.
I frowned. “Baby, you just had a fever. Maybe we should skip the bath tonight p>
“But I’m all sweaty and gross!” She wrinkled her nose. “Please, Mommy p>
I sighed. “Fine. But I’m coming with you to make sure you don’t get cold p>
She nodded eagerly and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the stairs.
Dante said nothing as we left. Just went back to his newspaper like we’d never been there at all.
After I made sure Liora was bathed and warm and tucked into bed, I stood in her doorway for a moment, watching her settle in with her favorite stuffed animal.
“You’re staying, right?” she asked sleepily.
“I’m staying,” I promised.
“Okay. Love you, Mommy p>
“Love you too, baby p>
I closed her door partway and stood in the hallway, suddenly unsure of what to do with myself.
I needed to change. Needed to get out of this dress and into something I could sleep in.
Which meant going to the master bedroom.
My chest tightened at the thought, but I forced myself to walk down the hall.
When I pushed open the door, Dante wasn’t there.
Thank goodness.
I stepped inside, half-expecting to find all my things gone. Packed up. Erased.
After all, I’d been gone for weeks. Surely he would’ve cleared out my stuff by now. Made room for—
I stopped.
Nothing had changed.
My slippers were still by the bed, exactly where I’d always left them. The hand cream I used every night was still on the nightstand. My water bottle. My books.
Everything was exactly as I’d left it.
Like I’d never been gone at all.
I walked slowly toward the walk-in closet, my heart pounding for reasons I couldn’t name.
When I slid open the door, I found my clothes still hanging there. Dresses, blouses, jeans, all of it. Untouched.
My hands trembled as I reached out and touched one of the hangers.
Why?
Why hadn’t he gotten rid of any of it?
Did he think I was coming back? Did he want me to come back? Absolutely not.
Or did he just not care enough to bother?