THE DISGRACED HUSBAND IS A BILLIONAIRE

03: THE FIRST FRACTION IN HIS HEART

“The two people who live in this house are the ones I care for and serve. They are my family.”

Silvestry let out a short, dry laugh. “Wow. Impressive words. Do you even hear yourself?”

He tilted her head, studying him.

“For a lot of reasons, Selene could’ve left you, could’ve divorced you. Honestly, I’m surprised you managed to stay this long.”

George’s jaw tightened. “I’ve supported my family. Within my means. I’ve done my part.” His voice dipped, quieter but firm. “That’s not something my wife was ever forced to ask of me.”

Silvestry’s eyes narrowed, a faint smirk forming.

“Oh? So you’re saying you’ve got enough money to buy your own house, then?”

The question landed heavier than he expected.

George opened his mouth, but nothing came out. For a moment, even he could hear how hollow his words had sounded. He wondered, was he trying to convince Silvestry… or himself?

Silvestry took a step closer, his voice sharper now. “What’s wrong? Why can’t you answer?”

Before George could respond, another step entered the kitchen, it's Selene.

George felt it before he saw her. That familiar presence. That quiet pull of his heart still responded. He turned slightly. But Selene proceeded to the other counter to prepare a cup of coffee, thats the way she used to. Selene always did it for him.

When Selene is done, he brought two cup of coffee in the table and place the other one to Silvestry. And the other one? she is still holding it... but no plan to sip.

She looked at George, the same as what he did. Her expression was calm, almost detached. There was no warmth in her gaze when it met his, no trace of the love they once shared.

"You’re awake early,” she said.

George nodded.

“I thought I’d prepare something.”

Selene glanced at the table briefly. The preparations of chicken sandwich, fried rices with eggs, a salted chicken feet. It was her favorite. Selene missed this kind of cooking, and she smiled realizing that only George can do it for her.

"Thank you.”

Her voice was polite, but the distance is still there, the shell of their love was still empty.

George swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly. “I used to do this all the time.”

Selene didn’t reply. Instead, she walked past him and sat beside Silvestry.

That small movement did more damage for George than any words could.

Then... there were other light and quick foot steps.

George’s heart skipped. He turned fully this time.

And there he was... His son, Gabriel.

He was no longer the little boy George remembered. Gabriel had grown taller, his posture straighter, his face more mature. He looked strong, and healthy.

George felt something tighten in his heart. For eight years... he had missed his son.

"Gabriel,” he called gently.

The boy stopped when their eyes met. George assumes that his son might know him, and runs to him, and tells him that he is waiting for him.

But in that moment. Gabriel looked at him for only a second. What George found is no recognition, because Gabriel turned away and walks within a distance from him.

“Mom, I’m hungry.." Gabriel said.

Just like that, as if George didn’t exist. His heart felt the same rejections again.

"I made your favorite,” George said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Eggs and rice, just the way you used to like... ”

“I don’t eat that anymore.” the boy answered to his father immediately.

And that sharp tone made George froze. “…Oh,” he whispered.

Gabriel walked past him and sat down beside Silvestry, instead of him.

Silvestry rested a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder casually. “You’ve got school today, right?” he asked.

Gabriel nodded. “Yeah.”

George stood there, unmoving, watching and listening to them. This was a painful reality, for being an outsider in his own home. While his own family was taking care of another man.

“I can make something else,” George offered quietly. “If you want...”

“I said I don’t like it.” Gabriel insisted.

His voice was colder now, and more impatient.

“And I like what Dad makes better.”

Dad? The word echoed loudly in George’s mind. But it wasn’t meant for him. George felt something inside him cracked.. Just enough to remind him that his world now, was still breaking.

Silvestry smirked faintly but said nothing. He didn’t have to. But Gabriel had already done enough.

George forced himself to move, placing the plates on the table.

“Eat while it’s warm,” he said quietly.

But none of theme thanked him. No one acknowledge his effort. They simply began eating together like a family.

Without him.

George stepped back, unsure of where to set or stand, or what to do.

Later on Silvestry says something. "You can clean up after we eat our breakfast”

Silvestry said casually. “Make yourself useful.”

George nodded once. “…Alright.”

It does not mean that George agreed, but because that was his place now, and not at the center of the table.

Not beside them, but behind them.