I pulled my gaze away and looked out the window.
Wedding. A bitter laugh slipped from my lips.
There was a knock on the door. Quincy poked her head in, draped in a red nightgown. Soon-to-be brides always wore red nightgowns.
“Luka, let Talia rest. We should get some rest, too.”
Luka glanced at me, his eyes complicated. After a long silence, he finally turned and walked out.
I was drained, yet no matter how I tried, sleep refused to come.
When dawn broke, I opened the door. In the kitchen, Luka and Quincy were making breakfast together.
“Luka, which dress should I wear for tonight’s dinner? It’s your fault, after three years of you feeding me, I’ve gone up a whole size.”
Luka’s voice carried a touch of gentle affection. “I just like cooking for you.”
Ten years ago, Luka had taken a culinary class just to please me. He once told me that if he could win over my stomach, I would never leave him.
But the person who said those words no longer existed.
I stepped out with a cold expression. The moment they saw me, both fell silent, their voices cut off.
At the dinner table, none of the dishes Luka used to prepare especially for me appeared.
It was clear now that he only cooked what Quincy liked.