CHAPTER FOUR - A Table for Three

Louise’s POV

I got home and was still in my car, holding Elsa’s favorite flower in my hand.

How do I tell her? I decided to pretend for a week, to enjoy my last moments with her.

“What does this Tristan look like?” I asked myself.

I decided to check him out on Singram. To my greatest surprise, he was very handsome. I was never one to be attracted to men, but I wasn’t blind either. I could see how good-looking he was.

As I was scrolling through his page to look at more photos, I accidentally liked a shirtless picture of him.

“What the fuck!” I said out loud.

I turned off my phone, grabbed the flowers, and went inside.

Elsa was already asleep when I walked in, and I didn’t want to wake her, but somehow, she stirred.

“I can smell your cologne, babe. I know you’re back,” she said as she tried to get up from the bed.

“I didn’t want to wake you, but now that you’re up, you can have this,” I said, handing her the bouquet.

“My favorite? What’s the occasion?” she asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“I just wanted to remind you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I said, beginning to undress.

“Get dressed, we are going out for lunch.” I said.

I could see the excitement in her eyes as she dashed into the closet to look for something to wear. I, on the other hand, went to take a bath.

She was slipping into a sundress, all soft colors and thin straps. Her hair was half-up, and she had that “not trying but absolutely winning” look down to an art.

I buttoned the last few buttons of my vintage shirt, short-sleeved, yellow, with a loud floral print that somehow didn’t feel loud when it was on me.

I wore my baggy black pants, and white sneakers. Around my neck was a silver chain, with rings that clicked gently when I moved, and a heavy cuff that hugged my wrist like it was made for me.

She walked past me, dragging a finger across my lower back.

“That shirt’s trouble,” she said.

I smirked, adjusting my chain. “Only because I wear it.”

She laughed, then turned to the mirror, holding up her lip gloss.

“Tell me when to stop.”

I walked up behind her, resting a hand lightly on her waist as she applied it, and I murmured, “Right there.”

She locked eyes with me in the reflection, not smiling now, just looking, letting the silence between us stretch a little longer.

And then I kissed her.

“You’re so naughty,” she said, a smirk on her face.

“I just wanted some gloss,” I murmured.

“You look breathtaking, and I am in awe of your beauty,” I told her.

“Thanks, baby,” she said, stretching forward for a kiss.

We were ready, and we drove out for lunch.

We got to the restaurant and were seated.

A few minutes after we arrived, a man walked in, and I could see Elsa looking at him like she wanted him inside her.

“He looks good,” I said, breaking the awkward stare.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, flustered.

“You don’t need to be. Do you want him?” I asked.

She looked at me, surprised. For some reason, she had lost her voice.

“Look, he’s staring back at you,” I said.

She turned toward his direction, and their eyes met. I could see him looking directly at her chest.

Was I supposed to be annoyed?

I mean, we would be breaking up soon…

And I didn’t want to stop her from getting whatever she wanted.

I didn’t want to be selfish.

“Babe, let’s eat. What are you doing?” she said, just as the waiter walked in with our food.

“Thank you,” I said to the waiter.

Then I added, “Please, can you tell him to come join us?”

I pointed in the direction of the man.

Elsa’s POV

I froze.

Did I hear her right?

“Please, can you tell him to come join us?” she’d said, like she was asking for extra napkins. Calm. Casual. Like it meant nothing.

I stared at her, trying to read her face, but Louise is impossible to read when she wants to be. That same soft dominance, the stillness that always made me feel safe, was now leaving me breathless, unsure.

I swallowed. My heart was racing.

Why did I look at him like that?

Why did she notice?

Why did she… invite him?

I tried to laugh it off. “Babe, are you being serious right now?”

She didn’t look at me. She was unfolding her napkin slowly, laying it across her lap. Her eyes flicked toward the waiter, then back to her plate.

“He looked like you wanted him. I just thought I’d be generous,” she said, tone even.

Generous.

That word stuck in my chest.

I didn’t know what to say, because yes, I had looked at the man. He was tall, dark-skinned, clean-cut, confident. And when I saw him, something in my body reacted. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t connection. It was… hunger. Something raw. Something I hadn’t felt in a while. And yes, for a moment, I let myself feel it.

But that was just a moment.

Now he was walking toward our table.

My stomach twisted.

Louise didn’t look at him. She sipped her drink, her silver rings glinting in the sunlight like armor.

He stopped beside us, looking from me to her.

“Hey… uh, the waiter said you wanted me to join you?”

Louise finally looked up, smiled that small, unreadable smile.

“Yes. Sit.”

And he did. Just like that. Like he was used to being welcomed into places he didn’t belong.

I was still silent, glancing between the two of them like I was watching a scene from someone else’s life.

Louise poured him a glass of water without asking. Her movements were controlled, precise. I knew that version of her, the version that smiled with her lips and guarded everything else.

“Elsa, this is…?” she asked, turning to me with raised eyebrows.

“I, I don’t know his name,” I said, barely able to get the words out.

He chuckled, extending his hand across the table. “Christian.”

Of course.

I shook it, feeling a strange electric current move through my body. I didn’t like it.

Louise leaned back in her seat and watched me. I didn’t know what hurt more, the fact that she was doing this… or the fact that I had looked at him in the first place.

“I was just telling her,” Louise said, cutting her food, “how beautiful she looks today. Don’t you agree?”

Christian nodded; eyes fixed on me. “Absolutely. Stunning.”

I wanted to shrink.

I wanted to disappear.

But more than anything, I wanted to know what Louise was thinking, because behind that cool exterior, something was breaking. I felt it.

She didn’t bring him to our table because she wanted to share.

She did it to set me free.

But I wasn’t ready for that.

Not yet.