Silas came home early, a rare occurrence.
We hadn't sat down together for a meal in weeks.
Since Serena returned, his "late-night meetings" had multiplied exponentially.
He cut his chicken with methodical precision. I managed two bites of asparagus before the nausea hit. The familiar abdominal pain flared up again.
Sensing my discomfort, Nova trotted out from the hallway and sat under my chair.
I gently set my fork down with a soft clink. Silas glanced up at me. "I'm going to feed Nova," I murmured, and quickly stood up.
I hurried to the spare bedroom I had converted into Nova's room. I poured some premium kibble into his ceramic bowl, and the little dog happily dug in, his tail thumping against the baseboard. Watching him, I felt a fleeting sense of peace.
Then, the abdominal pain spiked sharply, so severe it stole my breath. A thick, metallic taste surged up my throat.
I clamped both hands tightly over my mouth. When I pulled them away, my palms were slick with dark red blood.
Nova stopped eating. He whipped his head around, let out a terrified whimper, and began pawing at my knees.
Trembling, I grabbed a handful of tissues from the nightstand, wiped the blood from my mouth and hands, and buried the crumpled, blood-soaked wads deep in the trash can.
I slumped to the floor, pulling Nova into a tight hug and burying my face in his fur.
"I'm okay, buddy. I'm fine," I rasped.
He didn't believe me. He refused to eat anymore, instead frantically licking my chin.
A sharp knock on the door startled me.
Silas stood there, leaning against the wooden frame. "Come finish your dinner, Nina," he said softly.
I forced myself back to the table and choked down the food as if I were swallowing sawdust and ashes. When I couldn't stomach another bite, Silas took the plates to the kitchen to load the dishwasher.
When he returned, I was sitting on the plush rug in the living room, tossing a plush toy for Nova. Silas sat on the sofa behind me.
"Nina," he began, his voice soft. "I know I've been incredibly busy lately. Once this quarter ends, I'll clear my schedule. We'll go to that tropical island. Just the two of us. How does that sound?"
I kept my eyes fixed on the dog, scratching behind his ears. "Okay."
A trip to a tropical island had been at the top of my bucket list for years.
We never had a honeymoon; we just signed the papers and went back to work the next day.
As our relationship deepened, I had begged him to take me away for a belated honeymoon. But the CEO of Vance Capital could never find the time. The trip was always pushed to the next quarter, or the next year.
And now, it was his turn to bring it up. I could feel his gaze resting on the back of my neck, heavy and expectant. I pretended not to notice.
"There's a charity gala next Wednesday night," he added casually. "Are you free? I'd like you to come with me."
My hand froze in Nova's fur. I took a slow breath, trying to keep my voice entirely devoid of emotion. "I can't go. I won't."
Silas didn't push it. He just nodded.
I stared blankly at Nova.
During her years in Paris, Serena had all but disappeared from New York's social circles. A high society gala was the perfect opportunity for her to rebuild her network. There was no way she would miss it.
If she batted her eyelashes and asked Silas to escort her, he absolutely wouldn't refuse.
He just didn't expect that I would show up anyway.
