The tension at the table was evident, though Haynes seemed oblivious, engaging in light conversation as though everything was perfectly normal. He peeled shrimp without pause, placing each piece on a plate in front of Leila. It was a simple act, but one that felt like a dagger to my chest.
Haynes had never been one for seafood unless someone peeled it for him. It was a quirk of his—he found it too troublesome to do it himself. And yet here he was, meticulously peeling an entire plate for Leila without a second thought. The sight made my stomach churn.
Beta Ark, ever the observer, noticed the tension. He leaned over, nudging Haynes with a sly grin. "Don’t favor one over the other, Alpha. Peel some shrimp for your Luna too."
His words were meant to be a joke, but I knew better. He was mocking me, making light of my humiliation. Haynes seemed to realize this, glancing at the empty plate in front of me. "Order another plate," he said, his tone clipped.
"No," I replied, taking a sip of my drink to mask the bitterness rising in my throat. "I don’t like shrimp."
Haynes raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by my refusal. "How about pasta then?"
"I don’t like it."
"Dessert?"