Strange Plates And Polished Smiles

Isla’s POV

I did not need to be a prodigy to know what my friend, Lia was doing. She did not want me to break down, and she also wanted me to see what I would have become if I had not foolishly given up on myself for a scumbag.

She was making me see the life I abandoned, not to spite me but to invoke my fighting spirit. I was the top student in our major, and Lia knows that had it not been for marriage, I would have soared even higher than her fellow executives.

The restaurant was the kind of place with low lighting and waiters who never seemed to blink. Soft jazz floated in the air, and the walls were lined with wine bottles older than my marriage. I felt out of place the moment I stepped in.

Lia walked ahead, her heels clicking with confidence. She belonged here, in this world of clean collars, firm handshakes, and knowing laughter. I clutched Sophie’s hand a little tighter. She, of course, was fascinated. “Mummy, look! That fish is swimming in a plate!” I looked down. The glass floor below our table shimmered with a digital aquarium, tropical fish gliding beneath our feet. Sophie knelt instantly to follow a clownfish.

“You’re seated with us,” Lia said, gently tugging me toward the long table. A mix of men and women in suits and silk ties were already gathered, chatting like they had known each other since birth. And at the head of the table, Alexander Langston.

He nodded politely as we sat, but his eyes did not linger. He returned to a conversation about numbers I could not even pretend to understand. “Hey,” Lia whispered beside me. “Relax. Nobody’s judging you.” Easy for her to say.

I glanced down at my outfit. A simple cardigan, jeans, and flats. I did not even own a proper handbag anymore. Next to the sleek blazers and watches that cost more than my rent, I felt like a ghost from a different lifetime.

The waiter poured sparkling water into crystal glasses. I thanked him and quickly scanned the menu. No prices. That alone told me I could not afford anything on it. “So, Isla,” one of Lia’s coworkers said, a woman with red lipstick and a voice like velvet, “are you in tech too?” I swallowed. “No. Not exactly.” “Oh? What field?” Field? “My field is… motherhood, for now,” I said, forcing a smile. “And survival.” They laughed politely. I wished I could disappear into the fish beneath us.

Conversation swirled around me. Revenue growth. IPOs. Marketing campaigns. Every word reminded me of what I had lost, not just a husband, but myself somewhere along the way. I tried to focus on Sophie, feeding her bits of grilled chicken from my plate. She leaned into me, warm and soft, and I clung to that, the one thing that made sense.

Across the table, Alexander glanced up. Our eyes met for half a second. Then he asked, “Sophie, was the fish plate your favorite part of the evening?” Sophie beamed. “Yes! And the shiny cup!” I had not expected him to speak. His voice was smoother than I remembered. Less clipped. There was something careful in the way he looked at me. Not cold. Not warm either. Just… observant.

He turned his attention to me next. “And you?” he asked. “How’s your evening?” I blinked. “It’s… unusual.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unusual?” I hesitated. Then shrugged. “I’m not used to places like this anymore.” His lips twitched, almost a smile. “Neither am I. Not really.”

I did not believe him. Not with the way everyone deferred to him. The man owned the place just by breathing. But the moment passed. The conversations resumed, and Alexander leaned back, letting the others do the talking. He did not speak much, but he listened. Closely. Like someone who always knew more than he let on.

By the end of dinner, Sophie was fast asleep in my lap, her soft breath warming my arm. Lia had a glass of wine in her hand, her laughter easy and unguarded. I had not seen her this happy in years. “I’ll drop you two off,” Alexander said suddenly, rising from his chair. “My driver’s already outside.”

I started to protest. “That’s not necessary...” “It’s late,” he cut in gently. “And she’s asleep.” His tone left little room for argument. Lia shot me a look that said, do not start refusing again. So I followed Mr Langston with no more energy to argue.

Outside, the rain had begun to fall, gentle, for now. The city shimmered under it. Alexander opened the back door himself, waiting as I carefully settled Sophie in. Once inside, the warmth of the car wrapped around me like a sigh. I glanced at him, unsure. “Thank you,” I said quietly.

He did not answer right away. Just looked straight ahead, his profile sharp in the city lights. Then he said, “You handled yourself well.” I frowned. “What do you mean?” “That table. The questions. The awkwardness.” His gaze flicked toward me. “I’ve seen seasoned executives crumble under less.” I smiled faintly. “You’re overestimating me.” “No,” he said. “I’m not.”

The rest of the drive was quiet. When we reached Lia’s apartment, I carried Sophie in my arms. Alexander offered to help, but I shook my head. I wanted this moment. Just me and my daughter. He waited until we were safely inside the building, then nodded once and disappeared into the night.

I stood by the window later, watching his car pull away, taillights disappearing into the mist. I did not know what any of this meant. But something had shifted, in me. I still had no money. No job. And now… a lawsuit waiting in the mailbox. But tonight, I had kept my dignity. And maybe, just maybe, I was not as invisible as I thought