This year, he brought another woman. Pregnant with what I could never give him.
I bit my lip, trying to hold it together as I heard them walking in. I signaled the maids to help.
“The beef tapa is for Sasha. She’s been craving it. She’s exhausted. I don’t want to wait for a new order,” Darius said.
Moments later, I heard him pull the chair beside the head of the table. His usual spot. It used to be mine too, right next to him. He would always serve me first.
Now someone else needed serving. That wasn’t me.
I silently placed the dishes in front of them and took a seat at the farthest end of the table. The space between us was filled with food, but the silence was louder.
“Let her eat first, Rosella,” he said.
I blinked, confused.
“There’s plenty of food. Why wait? I’m hungry too,” I answered without emotion.
He glared at me. “She eats first. She’s pregnant.”
“She can’t eat everything, Darius. There’s a lot of food.”
“You are hungry, but you are carrying nothing, Rosella. Your hunger can wait. End of discussion,” he said sharply before turning to Sasha. His voice softened. “What do you want to eat first? The beef tapa? The shrimp?”
Sasha glanced at me briefly, then pointed quietly at what she wanted. My husband served her like a servant. My fists clenched, and I looked away.
He used to do that for me too. When I was pregnant. He’s sweet, overprotective of me and the baby but I lost it. I lost him, too.
“She should eat too,” Sasha mumbled, barely audible.
Darius sighed and turned to me. “Fine. Sasha wants you to eat. So eat, Rosella. Just don’t upset her.”
But my appetite was gone. Only bitterness remained.
“I’ll rest. I’m not hungry anymore.”
He gritted his teeth, clearly displeased. But I didn’t care. I walked away without waiting for him to stop me.
I headed straight to the closet. My luggage was already packed. I was just waiting for the council's separation papers. Until then, I couldn’t file for divorce. In our world, both the human government and the council had to sign off to fully dissolve a marriage.
I started gathering the rest. Jewelry he once gave me. Memories I no longer wanted to wear. Then came the loud banging on the door. One of the maids was calling my name in a panic.
I opened it quickly, but instead of the maid, Darius barged in. He slammed me against the wall.
“What the hell did you put in the food?”
My chest heave. “What? I didn’t—”