Chapter 98
ELODIE’S POV~
Nonna wanted Dante to pay attention to me. To show some care. Even just a little.
But I didn’t need that anymore. I didn’t even want it.
I kept my eyes away from Dante, and let a small smile settle on my face. “Nonna, the food will get cold. Let’s eat p>
She looked at me and sighed.
“You,” she said, shaking her head. “Always covering for him p>
She thought I was protecting Dante again. Thought I was deflecting because I didn’t want to hear her scold him on my behalf.
That’s what I’d always done before. Every time he ignored me, every time Nonna called him out, I’d smooth things over. Defend him. Make excuses.
My old habits.
But that wasn’t why I’d changed the subject this time.
I just didn’t care anymore.
What was the point? Nonna could pressure him all she wanted. Could guilt him into gestures that meant nothing.
It wouldn’t change how he felt.
It wouldn’t make him love me.
I smiled at her but didn’t explain.
Dante’s expression stayed flat. Unchanged. My words hadn’t registered with him at all or if they had, he didn’t show it.
It didn’t matter.
None of it mattered.
Nonna stood, taking Liora’s hand. “Liora, you haven’t had a meal with great-grandma in so long. Sit with me tonight, okay p>
Liora nodded. “Okay, great-grandma p>
“Such a good girl p>
Nonna shot Dante a pointed look as she said it. The meaning was obvious.
‘Your daughter knows how to behave. Why can’t you p>
I followed them into the dining room without looking at Dante.
Nonna settled Liora into the chair next to her, across from where I’d be sitting. A clear setup. She wanted me and Dante side by side.
I sat down.
And then I heard the chair beside me scrape against the floor.
It was Dante.
He pulled it out and sat down. Close enough that I could smell his cologne, that familiar scent that used to make me feel safe.
Now it just made me tired.
Nonna looked pleased, like she had accomplished something.
The servants began setting out dishes. The steam rising. The Porcelain clinking.
“Dante,” Nonna said, her voice sweet but firm. “Serve Elodie some food p>
Here we go.
“No need, Nonna.” I reached for the serving spoon. “I can help myself p>
Before I could finish, Dante’s chopsticks moved.
He placed a piece of stir-fried pork on my plate. And it was my favorite.
I stared at it.
He didn’t respond.
He didn’t look at me.
Just went back to his own food like nothing had happened.
This was how it always went when Nonna was watching. She’d ask him to take care of me, and he would. Mechanically. Dutifully.
Throughout the meal, whenever my plate got empty, he’d refill it. Always with things I liked. Always without being asked twice.
To anyone watching, it looked attentive. Considerate.
Like a good husband.
But I knew better.
This wasn’t care. This was performance.
He was doing it for Nonna. Because she expected it. Because refusing would cause problems he didn’t want to deal with.
Not because he actually wanted to take care of me.
Not because he saw me.
I ate in silence. Accepted the food he placed on my plate. Said thank you when it seemed appropriate.
And played my part.
Just like he was playing his.
Liora was chattering happily with Nonna. Something about school. About a project she was working on.
I listened with half an ear. And smiled when she looked at me.
This wasn’t special.
Any of it.
Dante serving me food, knowing what I liked… it was just muscle memory. Years of meals with Nonna watching. Years of going through the motions.
He didn’t need to try to remember my preferences. They were just there. Stored somewhere in that brilliant mind of his, alongside business strategies and stock projections.
Not because he cared.
Just because he’d been doing it for so long.
After dinner, Dante stayed in the living room with Nonna. Talking about Business, probably. Or pack politics.
I sat nearby, quietly. Barely speaking.
I didn’t look at him, didn’t participate unless directly asked a question.
Nonna noticed and I could feel her eyes moving between us, noticing the distance, the silence.
She sighed.
She was frustrated.
She’d been trying for years to make this marriage work. To push us together. To create a connection where there was none.
It never worked. It will never work.
But she kept trying anyway.
Around nine, Nonna started looking tired. She waved her hand at her. “Go upstairs. Rest. This old woman needs her sleep p>
We said goodnight to each other.
I took Liora upstairs. Bathed her and washed her hair. Sat her down in front of the vanity to blow it dry.
She was quiet while I worked, watching me in the mirror.
Usually I’d fill the silence and ask about school. Tell her stories. Find things to talk about.
Tonight I didn’t.
Couldn’t find the energy to.
Liora noticed. Her small brow furrowed slightly. “Mom p>
“Hm p>
“Are you okay p>
I blinked and forced a smile. “Of course, sweetheart. Why p>
She shook her head and said. “Nothing p>
But she kept watching me in the mirror. Like she was trying to figure something out.
I finished drying her hair and set down the brush.
She rolled onto the bed, burrowing into the blankets, then looked up at me. “Mom? Will you sleep with me tonight p>
My heart squeezed.
“Do you want me to p>
She shrugged. “I don’t mind either way.” A pause. Then, quieter, “But… you haven’t spent much time with Dad lately. Don’t you want to sleep in your room? With him p>
The question hit like a punch.
So innocent. So reasonable. A smart girl.
She had no idea what was happening.
“I’ll go back in a bit,” I said. Smiled like it was nothing. “Let me tuck you in first p>
I couldn’t stay here. If Nonna found out I’d slept in Liora’s room without a good reason, that I’d avoided the master bedroom, there’d be questions. So many concerns.
More pressure. Ugh! I didn’t want that.
The divorce wasn’t finalized yet. On paper, I was still Dante’s wife. Still supposed to share his bed.
I kissed Liora’s forehead. “Goodnight, baby p>
“Night, Mom p>
I left her room and walked down the hall.
Stopped in front of the master bedroom door.
Took a deep breath.
And went inside.
The lights were on.
Dante was at the desk, his laptop was open, his fingers were moving across the keyboard. Working.
He glanced up when I entered. Briefly.
Then went back to his screen.
I didn’t say anything. I Just walked past him to the closet.
Found something to sleep in and headed to the bathroom.
The shower was hot. I stayed under the water longer than necessary. Let it beat against my shoulders. Tried to wash away the exhaustion that had settled into my bones.
It didn’t work.
When I came out, Dante was still at his desk. Still typing.
I changed into my nightgown. Did my skincare at the vanity. Went through the motions.
It was still early. Not even ten yet.
I climbed onto the bed and propped myself against the headboard.
Picked up the book I’d been reading.
Opened it to where I’d left off.
The words blurred in front of me.
Across the room, Dante kept working. The keys of the keyboard were clicking.
We didn’t speak.
Didn’t acknowledge each other at all.
Just two people in the same room, existing in parallel. Occupying the same space without ever actually touching.
I turned a page I hadn’t read.
Stared at the words without seeing them.
The silence pressed down on me. The silence was heavy and suffocating. But I didn’t break it.
I wouldn’t.