Chapter 4
722 Words
The restaurant James chose was that small bistro on the east side of the city.
It was tucked away on a quiet old street lined with towering plane trees. The storefront was modest, but the interior had been designed with exquisite attention to detail.
Warm golden lights spilled across the crisp white tablecloths, and every table held a single fresh rose.
I hadn't been here in years.
When we arrived at our table, James pulled out the chair for me.
Seeing me glance around, he smiled slightly.
"Remember this place? You used to love it more than anywhere else."
I did remember.
When we had first gotten married, we came here once a month.
He would reserve the window seat in advance, cut my steak into small pieces for me, and whenever dessert arrived, he would always pull a bouquet of flowers from beneath the table like some ridiculous magic trick.
Back then, I truly believed that kind of simple happiness would last forever.
Then Yvonne came back.
This little bistro became their favorite date spot.
I had passed by a few times afterward. Through the glass window, I saw James sitting in the exact same seat where he used to sit with me, while Yvonne smiled brightly across from him.
After that, I never came back.
I nodded.
"I remember. Yvonne likes coming here too."
James froze.
His Adam's apple moved as he struggled to find an explanation.
Maybe it was the calm look in my eyes that stopped him.
He swallowed the words he had been about to say.
"The head chef is still the same as before," he said softly as he handed me the menu. His tone carried a hint of careful gentleness. "All your favorite dishes are still here."
I took the menu and flipped through it a few times, but I didn't order anything.
I closed it casually, placed it aside, and looked directly at him.
"James, we need to talk."
The smile on his lips faltered for a moment.
"Order first, okay? We can talk while we eat..."
Before I could respond, I noticed several girls sitting at the next table.
They looked young, probably in their early twenties. Their makeup was flawless, and they were dressed in the latest trendy outfits.
But the way they looked at me felt strangely familiar.
Their eyes were filled with hatred, anger, and a cruel innocence that almost seemed childish.
It was the exact same look I had seen from those girls before.
James followed my gaze and immediately understood.
His expression darkened.
He shot them a warning look before shifting his body slightly, blocking their view of me.
"I'm here. Don't be afraid."
At that moment, his phone suddenly rang.
It was Yvonne's agent, Lena.
James hesitated for a few seconds before answering.
The moment the call connected, a frantic voice came through the phone loud enough for me to hear.
"Mr. Victor, you need to come right now! Yvonne cut her wrists!"
James's face turned pale instantly.
"I'm coming."
He stood up so quickly that the chair legs scraped harshly against the floor.
I watched as he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, his movements hurried and unsteady.
"Rory, something happened to Yvonne. I have to go. Wait here. I'll send the driver to pick you up."
"What about those girls?" I asked.
"They won't cause trouble here," he replied. "Just stay inside. Don't go out. You'll be safe."
He turned to leave.
"James."
He stopped and looked back at me.
The warm yellow light fell across his face.
The sharp features I had once loved so deeply were still the same.
But now, with worry about another woman filling his eyes, he looked like a stranger.
"If you walk out that door right now," I said quietly, "there won't be any going back for us."
I stared at him.
His eyes dropped to his phone.
His expression had already become impatient.
"Rory, this is a matter of life and death. Don't make this harder than it needs to be. We'll talk when I get back, okay?"
The glass door closed behind him.
The small wind chime above the entrance rang twice.
His figure disappeared into the night.
"James," I whispered softly, so quietly that even I could barely hear myself.
"We're done."
- Writer
