CHAPTER SEVEN

Arielle’s POV

“Wait… do what?” I asked, my voice barely more than a breath.

David didn’t answer immediately. He stepped closer instead, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat beside me. The faint scent of his cologne drifted into the air. It smelled woody and familiar, something that used to comfort me.

“I’ve been distant these days, right?” he said finally, his voice softer than usual.

His fingers slipped into my hair, stroking gently, almost cautiously like he wasn’t sure he still had the right to touch me that way.

I stiffened for a second before forcing myself to relax. “You have,” I replied.

“It’s not helping us,” he continued, his gaze was fixed somewhere on the bedspread instead of me. “And I know it isn’t appropriate.”

I frowned slightly. “So?”

He exhaled, then turned to look at me, he really looked at me this time. “Let’s go on a date, Ari. Just the two of us. However you want it. It’s up to you.”

For a second, I just stared at him.

A date. That was it?

The tension that had been coiled tightly in my chest loosened all at once, and I let out a quiet breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Wow. That was close.

For a fleeting moment, my mind had gone somewhere else entirely. Somewhere dangerous, somewhere tangled in memories I didn’t want to revisit. And now here he was, just asking for a simple date.

I should have known. David wasn’t like that. He didn’t even hold a candle to Victor in that manner.

“Sure,” I said, my lips curving into a wide smile that felt almost too easy. “Yes.”

Relief flickered across his face. “Is 6 p.m. okay with you?”

“Absolutely.” I leaned back against the pillows, suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion creeping in. “But right now, I need sleep. Or I might just pass out on you.”

He chuckled softly. “I wouldn’t want that.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. It lingered there for a moment longer than necessary, warm and gentle.

“Sleep tight, babe.”

When he finally pulled away and left the room, the quiet rushed back in, filling every corner.

I let out a long sigh and collapsed face-first onto the bed.

By the time the clock struck six, I was ready.

The girl staring back at me in the mirror looked composed. Effortlessly so. A short yellow gown hugged my frame, the fabric soft against my skin, the color was bright enough to make a statement without trying too hard. My black heels added just the right amount of height, though they were high enough to make anyone else wince.

But I was used to it.

I twisted my hair into a half-up, half-down style, letting loose strands frame my face. A touch of gloss, a hint of perfume and I was done.

Perfect. Or at least, convincing enough.

I stepped into the foyer, the polished floor reflecting faint glimmers of light from the chandelier above. The house felt unusually quiet, almost expectant.

Right on cue, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was David. Of course. He was always on time.

I picked up. “I’m here.”

“I know,” he said. “Come out.”

And just like that, I was sliding into the passenger seat of his car moments later.

The drive was… uneventful. David tried. He really did.

He filled the silence with questions, small observations, even a joke or two that didn’t quite land. His fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel whenever the conversation dipped, like he was scrambling for something else to say.

I responded where I could, smiled when it felt necessary, nodded at the right moments.

But something about it all felt forced. Like we were rehearsing a version of us that used to exist. Eventually, the car slowed to a stop. I glanced out the window.

CP’s Tasty Dishes.

The building stood tall and elegant, its glass exterior reflecting the fading evening light. Inside, warm golden hues spilled from chandeliers, casting a soft glow over everything.

Luxury. That was the word.

When we stepped in, the atmosphere wrapped around us instantly. Soft music humming in the background, the quiet murmur of conversations, the gentle clink of cutlery against plates.

Every table was draped in rich red cloth, candles were flickering at their centers. Guests were dressed in sleek, sophisticated outfits, laughter and low voices blended into a carefully curated calm.

David led the way to a table already prepared for us. There were candles.Of course. The sweet scent lingered in the air as I took my seat, smoothing my dress beneath me.

He sat across from me, watching me with a small, expectant smile.

“You did all this for me?” I asked, letting a hint of surprise color my tone. “You shouldn’t have, David. This is… really sweet.”

His grin widened instantly, pride flashing across his face. “You know I’d do anything for you, Ari. It’s nothing.”

I smiled back. Of course he would.

The waitress arrived shortly after, polite and efficient, her smile was practiced but pleasant. David placed the order without hesitation. It was omething Chinese, though I barely paid attention to the details.

My focus drifted. Back to him.Back to us.

The waitress returned with our food and a bottle of white wine, setting everything down with careful precision.

“Enjoy,” she said softly before walking away.

“This is beautiful,” I murmured again, lifting my glass.

David leaned back slightly, clearly pleased. His ego practically glowed under the candlelight.

We began to eat. At first, the conversation stayed light. About random topics, harmless observations, small pieces of laughter stitched between them. But even then, something felt… off. Like a thread was pulling loose beneath the surface.

And then… I heard footsteps.

I paused, my fork hovering mid-air. Someone was approaching from behind me. At first, I assumed it was the waitress again.

But no.These steps were different. They sounded heavier and sharper. More like stomping than walking. A faint tension crept up my spine.The sound drew closer and closer. Then stopped.

I didn’t turn immediately. Instead, I watched David. His expression changed before I even saw her. The ease drained from his face, replaced by something tight. Something alarmed. And that was when I turned. A woman stood there.

Her presence was… commanding. Not loud in appearance, but heavy in impact. Her eyes burned with something fierce, something unrestrained. She didn’t look at me. Not even once.

She walked past my side without a word, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. The air seemed to shift with every step she took. Then she stopped. Right beside David. For a fraction of a second, everything went still.

Then… Her hand moved fast.

Her palm collided with his cheek with a sharp, echoing crack that sliced through the entire restaurant.

The sound turned heads instantly. Conversations halted and cutlery stilled. And just like that, every eye in the room was on us. A red imprint bloomed across David’s left cheek almost immediately, stark against his skin. His eyes widened, shock freezing him in place.

“What are you doing here with another girl?” the woman demanded, her voice cutting through the silence like glass.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, anger radiating off her in waves.

“You cheating bastard,” she said.