"Sir, would you like us to serve now, or keep waiting for your wife?"
It was the second time the waiter had asked.
Jonathan Carter glanced at the empty chair across from him and checked his watch.
8:15 p.m.
He had asked Diane to come early. She had promised. He forced a smile. "Not yet."
The waiter nodded and left, his eyes flicking to the candles, roses, and unopened wine.
Jonathan leaned back and rubbed his eyes. This wasn’t just dinner. It was their third anniversary.
He had booked the best restaurant in the city and left the hospital early to make it perfect.
And she still wasn’t here Around him, couples laughed and toasted under candlelight. Jonathan looked away.
His phone buzzed. For a second, hope rose—then faded. It wasn’t Diane.Someone had tagged her in a post.He opened it.
The photo showed Diane at Disneyland, standing beside Damien Cross. His five-year-old daughter sat on Diane’s shoulders, all three smiling like a family.
Jonathan stared. While he had waited alone, she had been laughing with another man’s child.
Comments poured in:
You three are such a beautiful family!
Lily is so lucky to have you.
You look like the perfect mom.
A bitter laugh escaped him. He had rushed through surgeries, skipped lunch, left work early, and booked the most expensive table in the city.
All for nothing. He drained his wine, set the glass down hard, paid far too much, and left.
---
It was nearly eleven-thirty when Diane came home, smiling and holding the stuffed toy Lily had won.
The smile vanished when she saw Jonathan in the living room.
"Jonathan? Why are you still awake?"
He looked at her. "Is that really your first question?"
She sighed. "I’m sorry I missed dinner. Something came up."
"Where were you?"
"I told you—"
"Don’t. You were at Disneyland."
"You followed me?"
"I saw the pictures."
She frowned. "That’s why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d overreact. Lilys been having a hard time since her mother left. Damien wanted to cheer her up. They asked me to come. I couldn’t say no."
"And saying no to me was easier?"
"They needed me."
His chest tightened. "I needed you too. You’ve spent more time with Damien and his daughter than with your own husband. Our marriage is falling apart, Diane. Doesn’t that matter?"
She folded her arms. "You’re jealous of a five-year-old. Jonathan... grow up."
Those words hurt more than anything else.
"You always have time for them," he said quietly. "Never for me."
She picked up her handbag. "I’m exhausted. If you still want dinner, schedule another night."
Then she went upstairs.
Jonathan stood there, then followed her. At the bedroom door, he saw her carrying a pillow toward the guest room.
"Diane... wait."
She stopped.
"I’m sorry," he said. "I shouldn’t have raised my voice. Please don’t sleep in the guest room."
She stared at him, then turned and went back into their bedroom.
Relief washed over him. He had learned to beg for the smallest pieces of her affection.
That night, they lay on opposite sides of the bed, a wide space between them.
Once, she hadn’t slept unless she was in his arms. Now she said cuddling made her too warm.
Jonathan reached for her hand beneath the blankets.
The moment his fingers touched hers, she pulled away.
He froze. His hand fell back to the mattress. He closed his eyes.
If she no longer wanted to be close to him, he would love her from afar.
Even if it broke him.