Episode. 3
674 Words
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*THE WIFE WHO NEVER FOUGHT BACK*
_by Ilyasu H.S_
*Chapter 3: DINNER FOR TWO*
_∼1850 words_
*LONDON. A SMALL ITALIAN RESTAURANT. PECKHAM. 2029*
No press. No private room.
Just a corner table. Candles. And nerves.
Damien Hartley was sweating.
In a £3000 suit. At a £30 restaurant.
Across from him: *ZARA.*
No makeup. Jeans. Nurse scrubs under her jacket.
And she was still the most beautiful thing he’d seen.
"I picked this place," he said quickly.
"Because... you said you liked real food. Not hotel food."
Zara smiled. Small. "Thank you for asking me, Damien."
The waiter came.
Damien panicked. "I’ll have the... steak. Medium."
Zara: "Pasta please."
Silence.
3 years of silence, but different now.
*HOT: THE FIRST REAL CONVERSATION*
"How’s the hospital?" he asked.
"Busy," she said. "But good. We saved 3 kids today."
"You’re good at that."
"At saving people?"
"At caring," he said. Then looked down.
Damien cleared his throat.
"I googled jollof rice."
Zara choked on her water.
"You did NOT."
"I did. Burnt the kitchen. £5000."
She laughed. Actually laughed.
For the first time he’d ever heard it directed at him.
"It needs scotch bonnet, Damien. Not... whatever that was."
He watched her laugh.
Memorized it.
"I’d pay £5 Million to hear that again."
Zara stopped laughing.
"Don’t buy me, Damien. Ask me."
*HISTORY LESSON #1: WHY HE NEVER ASKED*
"My dad," Damien said suddenly.
Zara blinked. He never talked about him.
"He died when I was 12. Heart attack.
At his desk. Working."
Damien spun his wine glass.
"My mother said: 'Feelings kill Hartleys.
Work keeps us alive.'
So I worked. I provided.
I thought that was love."
He looked up at her.
"You cooked. You cleaned. You waited.
And I took it. Like it was my salary."
His voice broke.
"I’m sorry, Zara."
*SWEET: THE MOMENT*
Zara reached across the table.
Didn’t hold his hand. Just touched his.
"Apology accepted."
Damien exhaled like he’d been holding it for 3 years.
"Can I... ask you something?"
"Yes."
"Can we start over?
No contract. No mother. No debt.
Just... dinner. And maybe breakfast tomorrow?"
Zara studied him.
The Ice King. Asking.
"Breakfast?"
"Yes. I’ll cook. It’ll be terrible. But I’ll try."
She smiled. "Okay. Breakfast."
*THE TWIST: CLAIRE SHOWS UP*
The restaurant door opened.
*CLAIRE.* Red dress. 6-inch heels. Camera flash behind her.
"Damien, darling!" she said loudly.
"I’ve been calling you. We need to talk about us."
Damien stood. Cold again.
"There is no us, Claire."
"Don’t do this. Not in front of..." she looked at Zara.
"Oh. The wife."
Zara didn’t flinch.
Stood up too. Calm.
"Ex-wife," she said quietly.
"And you’re interrupting our dinner."
Claire laughed. "Please. He’ll get bored in a week."
Damien stepped in front of Zara.
"Claire. Leave. Or I’ll have security remove you.
And I’ll buy this restaurant so you can never come back."
Claire left.
Damien turned back to Zara.
Hands shaking.
"I’m sorry. That was—"
Zara touched his face. Just for a second.
"You protected me. Thank you."
His eyes widened.
No one had ever thanked him for protecting them.
*END OF CHAPTER 3*
*NEXT MORNING. 7AM. KENSINGTON.*
Doorbell.
Zara opened it.
Damien. Holding a pan. And a fire extinguisher.
Hair messy. No tie.
"I tried pancakes," he said.
"They’re... abstract art. But I made coffee.
It’s drinkable. I think."
Zara looked at him.
CEO of a £4B company.
Standing in her doorway.
With burnt pancakes.
"Come in," she said.
"Let’s eat."
He stepped in.
And for the first time in his life,
Damien Hartley wasn’t providing.
He was _present_.
*TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 4: BREAKFAST AND TRUTH*
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*WHAT JUST HAPPENED:*
1. *FIRST DATE*: Awkward, real, and perfect
2. *VULNERABILITY*: He told her about his dad
3. *PROTECTION*: He chose her over Claire publicly
4. *NEW ERA*: Burnt pancakes > £5000 dinners
the women are KICKING THEIR FEET rn 😭
From contract to "Can I make you breakfast?"
Ready for *Chapter 4: BREAKFAST AND TRUTH* where he tells her why he really married her
- Writer
