The Dinner Delima
1508 Words
KATHERINE
I stood in front of the mirror, my reflection blurring as I tried to steady my breathing.
Two dinners. Two men.
And one heart that didn’t seem to know where it belonged.
Dominic’s request wasn’t really a request—it was an order, masked in politeness. “Your husband requests that you get dressed for dinner.”
His tone was always so controlled, so infuriatingly calm, like nothing ever got to him. But Adrian’s voice… the way he’d said, “Just the two of us. To talk.” It had cracked something open inside me I thought I’d buried long ago.
My phone buzzed on the table again. A message from Dominic this time.
Dominic: Be downstairs in ten. Don’t keep me waiting.
Typical. No “please.” No “if you can.” Just a command.
I stared at my closet, my fingers brushing over silk and lace, unsure what I was even dressing for. For a husband who made my pulse race for all the wrong reasons? Or an ex who made my heart ache for what could’ve been?
I chose a black dress—simple, elegant, with a neckline that revealed just enough to make Dominic’s control waver. I wanted him unsettled. I wanted someone to feel what I was feeling.
By the time I stepped into the dining room, Dominic was already seated, his posture perfect, his suit crisp and dark like sin. He didn’t look up immediately, just swirled the wine in his glass, eyes trained on the red liquid like it held all his secrets.
“You’re late,” he said finally.
I took my seat opposite him. “You said ten minutes. It’s been eight.”
His gaze lifted, locking with mine. “You’re counting now?”
“I like being precise,” I said coolly, but my pulse betrayed me.
He smirked, leaning back in his chair. “That dress is… distracting.”
“Good,” I replied, pouring myself a glass of wine. “You could use the distraction.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The tension stretched between us like a live wire—uncomfortable, charged, and impossible to ignore.
“You seemed upset earlier,” Dominic said finally, his tone deceptively casual.
I let out a dry laugh. “Upset? No, Dominic. Just the usual—being reminded by my sister that I’m a temporary accessory.”
His jaw tightened. “But you—”
“Don’t,” I cut in sharply. “Don’t lie to my face. You and I both know what this marriage is.”
His gaze darkened, the teasing glint fading. “You think you know everything, don’t you, Katherine?”
“I know enough,” I said. “I know that whatever this is, it’s not real. It never was.”
“Then why are you angry?”
The question sliced through me. I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I didn’t have an answer. Or maybe I did, but saying it out loud would make it real.
Before I could respond, the butler entered quietly to serve dinner. The aroma of roasted lamb and herbs filled the air, but my stomach was too tight to eat. Dominic, of course, was calm as ever, cutting his food with the precision of a surgeon.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, like we were some ordinary couple.
“Fine,” I said curtly, stabbing a piece of meat I didn’t intend to eat.
“Did you see Adrian?” His tone was too casual, too controlled, but his eyes gave him away.
I froze. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because I saw him,” he said simply, setting his knife down. “In the hallway. He looked… flustered.”
My breath caught. “Maybe he tripped.”
Dominic’s lips curved in a faint, humorless smile. “Or maybe he saw something that bothered him.”
I felt heat rush to my cheeks. “You’re overthinking things.”
“Am I?” His voice dropped an octave, deep and deliberate. “Because you seem nervous every time his name comes up.”
“I’m not—”
“Careful, Katherine,” he murmured, leaning forward. “You’re blushing.”
I hated how my heart reacted to that tone. The one that wrapped around me like a dark promise.
I pushed back my chair abruptly. “This dinner was a mistake.”
Before I could stand, his hand closed around my wrist—firm, but not cruel. His touch burned through my skin.
“Sit,” he said quietly.
I met his gaze, breath uneven. “Dominic—”
“I said sit.”
There was something in his eyes that made it impossible to disobey. A flicker of something raw, almost vulnerable, buried beneath the arrogance.
I sank back down, pulse racing.
He exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing the inside of my wrist before he released me. “You think I don’t notice, but I do. Every time his name is mentioned, you flinch. Every time he walks into a room, your breathing changes. Tell me, Katherine—why does he still have that power over you?”
His words left me speechless.
“I don’t—” I began, but my voice faltered. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then make me.”
The words were so soft, I almost didn’t catch them.
For a fleeting second, I saw something different in him. Not the ruthless businessman. Not the man I’d been forced to marry. But someone who actually cared—someone who hated the idea of losing control.
“I don’t love him,” I said finally. “Not anymore.”
Dominic’s eyes searched mine, as if trying to read between the lines. “You say that, but your body tells a different story.”
I swallowed hard, my cheeks burning. “You’re insufferable.”
He smiled faintly. “You didn’t deny it.”
“I don’t owe you explanations,” I shot back, standing again. “You can see Rosa for all I care.”
He rose too, stepping closer—too close. The air between us thinned.
“She means nothing to me,” he said quietly. “And she never will.”
His words hit me harder than I wanted to admit.
“Then what am I, Dominic?” I whispered.
He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes. “Complicated,” he said finally. “And dangerously distracting.”
My pulse roared in my ears. I took a shaky breath, trying to step back, but his hand brushed my arm again—gentle this time, like he was asking permission he’d never needed before.
And then—knock, knock.
We both froze.
The butler’s voice came through the door. “Ma’am, there’s someone here to see you. He says it’s urgent.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened. “Who?”
“Mr. Adrian, sir.”
The air shifted instantly.
Dominic’s eyes met mine, dark and unreadable. “Of course,” he muttered under his breath.
I turned toward the door, heart hammering. “Why would he—?”
But before I could finish, Adrian stepped into the dining room, his eyes flicking between Dominic and me. The silence was suffocating.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, though the way he looked at Dominic made it sound like he very much did. “I just thought we should talk, Katherine.”
Dominic let out a low, humorless laugh. “Seems everyone wants a piece of my wife tonight.”
“Wife?” Adrian scoffed, eyes narrowing. “You mean your contract, right?”
The room went deathly still.
Dominic’s expression turned glacial. “Careful, Adrian.”
Adrian stepped closer, ignoring the warning. “She doesn’t belong here, Dominic. You’re using her, and we both know it.”
“Enough,” I snapped, my voice shaking. “Both of you.”
But neither man moved.
Dominic’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “If you think you can waltz in here and—”
“I’m not afraid of you,” Adrian cut in.
“Good,” Dominic said, stepping closer until they were chest to chest. “Because I don’t need fear to destroy you.”
“Stop it!” I shouted, stepping between them. My hands trembled as I pushed them apart. “This isn’t about pride or ego—just stop!”
For a moment, no one spoke. The air was thick, alive with the tension of two worlds colliding.
Adrian’s gaze softened when it fell on me. “Katherine… come with me. Just talk to me, please.”
Dominic’s hand closed around mine instantly. “She’s not going anywhere.”
I looked between them, heart pounding so hard it hurt.
Two men. Two pasts. Two choices that could ruin me either way.
And for the first time, I realized—this wasn’t just dinner anymore.
It was a war.
- Writer
