The Reservation

I woke up before him. The sky looked heavy,like it wanted to rain but couldn't quite manage it. For a moment, I didn’t move. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the house. Last night sat heavy on my chest, but I pushed it down, burying it under something familiar.Maybe routine.

Carefully, I slipped out of bed, glancing toward his side. He was there now, lying on his back, one arm thrown over his head, breathing evenly like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t left me waiting. Like he hadn’t come home to a stranger of a marriage. The sight of him there should have comforted me. Instead, it just reminded me of the space between us.

I wrapped my robe tighter around me and went downstairs. The kitchen was quiet, untouched, almost too perfect. I didn’t let myself think about yesterday. I just started moving. I made his breakfast exactly how he liked it. Poached eggs,thick toast and black coffee. My hands worked on their own, muscle memory carrying me through each step. This was something I could control. Something that still made sense.

Maybe today would be different.

Balancing the tray, I made my way back upstairs, my heart beating just a little faster with each step. When I pushed the door open, he was awake, sitting up against the headboard with his phone in his hand. He looked calm. Normal. Like everything was fine.

“Good morning,” I said softly.

“Morning,” he replied, glancing up briefly before setting his phone aside.

I set the tray down beside him. “I made breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said, though his tone was distant, almost automatic.

“I wanted to.”

I climbed onto the bed beside him, close enough for our knees to touch. Close enough to feel his warmth. I didn’t want to waste time. Not today. Not again.

I leaned in slowly and kissed him. Soft and careful at first, like I was testing something fragile. For a second, it felt familiar like before. Like we hadn’t been drifting for months.

I deepened the kiss, my hand resting against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “Dae…” I whispered against his lips.

This time, he kissed me back. His hand came to my waist, and for a brief, hopeful moment, I thought maybe this was it. Maybe we were finding our way back.

I shifted closer, pressing myself against him, letting my fingers slip under his shirt, desperate to close the distance that had been growing between us.

Then he stopped me.

His hand tightened slightly around my wrist, not harsh, but firm enough to halt me completely.

“Emilka…”

My name sounded like a warning.

I looked at him, my chest tightening. “Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling despite myself. “Before anything else. Before the day starts.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. Then he leaned in, kissed me softly, almost like an apology and pulled away.

“I need to shower first,” he said quietly.

The words landed harder than they should have.

I grabbed his wrist before he could stand. “Dae, please…” This time, I couldn’t hold it back. The tears came, blurring my vision. “It’s been months. I’m right here.”

Something flickered in his eyes, something close to guilt, but it disappeared just as quickly. He cupped my face gently, brushing away a tear with his thumb.

“Hey… don’t do that,” he murmured. “I told you, I’m just tired and I need to get to the office..”

He pressed a light kiss to my lips, then pulled away from me completely. “I’ll be quick.”

And just like that, he was gone again.

The bathroom door closed, and the sound of running water filled the room. I sat there on the bed, staring at the untouched breakfast tray beside me. The eggs were already going cold.

By the time he stepped out, dressed and composed like nothing had happened, I had wiped my face clean and pulled myself together. Like always.

“I have to head to the office,” he said, adjusting his watch.

“So soon?” I asked, unable to hide it this time. “You just got back last night. Late. And now you’re leaving again?”

“There’s a meeting,” he replied simply.

“It’s been months, Dae.You missed our anniversary.Can’t you just take the day off?” My voice came out softer than I intended, but the desperation was still there. “Just one day.”

“You know how my boss is. He is breathing down my neck about the merger. If I'm not there,things fall apart. Do you want this life or not?”

Something inside me snapped.

Before I could stop myself, I reached for his phone on the nightstand and grabbed it. “Then I’ll call him,” I said quickly. “I’ll tell him you’re not coming”

“Emilka.”

His voice was sharp enough to freeze me in place.

In the next second, he stepped forward and snatched the phone from my hand.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

I stared at him, stunned. “I was just trying to…”

“That’s not your place,” he cut in, his tone tight, almost angry.

The words hit harder than I expected.

The room fell into a heavy silence.

Then he exhaled, running a hand through his hair as if trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “I didn’t mean to snap.”

But he had.

And we both knew it.

He stepped closer, taking my hand gently this time. “I’ve just got a lot going on right now.”

I didn’t pull away.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he continued. “Tonight. I promise.”

I wanted to believe him.

He reached into his wallet, pulled out his card, and placed it in my hand. “Go out today. Do some shopping. Book somewhere nice for dinner tonight. We’ll celebrate properly.”

Properly.

Like yesterday didn’t exist.

Like this morning didn’t happen.

Still, I nodded. “Okay.”

“Seven?” he asked.

“I’ll make a reservation.”

He smiled, relieved, then leaned down to kiss my forehead. And just like that, he was gone.

The house felt emptier after he left.

By evening, everything was ready. The reservation was set. My dress was perfect. My makeup, flawless. I looked like the kind of woman who was loved.

At six thirty pm,a black car pulled into our driveway.

“Mr. Winchester sent me to get you, Ma’am,” the chauffeur said. “He'll meet you at the venue.”

The restaurant was beautiful, filled with soft light and quiet conversations. Couples leaned into each other, laughing softly, sharing things that felt intimate and real.

I sat alone at the table, trying not to notice the looks.

Minutes passed. Then more.

Each one stretching longer than the last.

I checked the time again, my chest tightening. Maybe I should just leave. Maybe this was—

“Emilka.”

I looked up.

Damian stood there, slightly out of breath, his tie loosened, his expression apologetic.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” he said, stepping closer. “Work ran over.”

Of course it did.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” I admitted quietly.

“I said I would,” he replied, like that alone should have been enough.

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small maroon box.

My breath caught.

“For our five years,” he said, opening it to reveal a ring that caught the light beautifully. “I wanted to do this properly.”

My chest tightened as he slid it onto my finger.

“Thank you,” I whispered, even though something inside me didn’t feel right.

Later, when he led me onto the dance floor, I let myself relax just a little. His hand rested on my waist, pulling me closer this time. Closer than he had all day.

Maybe things were getting better.

Maybe I was wrong. We had a great rest of the evening and headed home. In the car,he couldn't keep his hands off me. He was acting like it was our first time together.

 ”I can't wait to get you home and finish you off,” he whispered against my ear. But as he leaned in,I caught it again. That same floral perfume from the night before. It was right there,clinging to him while he promised me the world.