His Invisible Wife

C H A P T E R 8 — lunch box

The next morning, Genie rose earlier than usual.

The memory of yesterday still warmed her chest—the empty lunchbox, spotless when it was returned. It had felt like proof, like a tender secret only she could keep.

He ate it… he really did.

Her lips curved into the faintest smile as she tied her hair back and walked to the kitchen. This time, she wanted to try harder, to give him more than just a meal—something that might reach him, something that said she was still here.

The air was warm with the scent of broth and rice when Lina entered, her apron already tied. She blinked at the sight of Genie, sleeves rolled up, carefully chopping vegetables.

“Madam, you’re awake so early,” Lina said softly, a little surprised.

Genie chuckled lightly, though her hands never stopped moving. “I couldn’t sleep much. I thought… why not make something for the master again?”

Lina tilted her head, curiosity in her eyes. “You look happier today.”

Genie glanced at her, smiling faintly. “Do I? I just… I think he ate yesterday’s lunch. The box came back clean.”

Lina’s eyes widened, then she grinned, her voice teasing but warm. “ Maybe the master is finally noticing your efforts.”

The words made Genie’s chest flutter. She wanted so badly to believe them.

As they worked together, Lina shared little stories, her chatter filling the quiet kitchen. She laughed about a clumsy footman who tripped over a broom that morning, and then about how one of the younger maids tried to sneak extra pastries from the pantry. Genie found herself laughing too—softly at first, then a little freer, like she hadn’t in a long time.

“Ah, madam, you should’ve seen it,” Lina said, giggling. “The poor girl’s cheeks puffed like a squirrel when she got caught. I thought she’d faint from embarrassment!”

Genie covered her mouth to hide her laugh, warmth flooding her cheeks. “You make it sound so lively here… it almost feels like a real home.”

Lina’s expression softened at that, but she quickly brightened again. “That’s because you’re here, madam. Honestly, the mansion feels less… cold when you’re smiling.”

Genie’s hands stilled for a moment, her throat tightening with quiet gratitude. “…Thank you, Lina.”

By the time the dishes were finished, the lunchbox looked beautiful, every detail arranged with care. Genie tied the cloth bow neatly, smoothing it with her fingertips as if sealing her feelings inside.

“Perfect,” she whispered.

When the assistant arrived, Genie stepped forward herself, handing over the lunchbox.

“Please make sure Master Jairus receives this,” she said, her voice soft but filled with hope.

The assistant blinked at her—something almost hesitant flickering in his eyes—but he nodded respectfully and took it.

Jairus was already at the foyer, his coat slung over one arm, his movements brisk. The assistant caught up to him, offering the lunchbox.

“From Madam,” he said quickly.

Jairus just nodded without breaking stride, his gaze flicking briefly to the clock. “Keep the car ready. The flight landed ahead of schedule.”

“Yes, sir,” the assistant replied, and kept the lunchbox since Jairus didn't say anything whether to discard it or not. but looking at the young master today he may not be eating the lunchbox made by madam again.

the assistant sighed, feeling bad for the young madam.

He didn’t have to ask who Jairus was going to meet. Everyone in the household knew.

Miss Elara came back sooner than expected.

---

At the airport, the sliding doors opened, and Jairus’ eyes locked immediately on her.

Elara Sanchez.

The woman stepped out of the terminal, her beauty luminous even beneath the harsh airport lights. She spotted him at once, her lips curving into a bright, familiar smile.

“Jairus,” Elara called softly, her voice carrying through the crowd.

For the first time that day, the tension in his features eased. He strode forward and reached out to take her suitcase.

“You came early,” he said, his tone gentler than usual.

Her laugh was like silver bells. “The airline switched schedules at the last minute. I didn’t expect you to rush here.”

“I would’ve come no matter the time,” Jairus answered simply, guiding her toward the car.

The lunchbox remained forgotten in the assistant’s arms.

Out of Jairus’ sight, Elara’s gaze flicked to it. The cloth was neatly tied, delicate and feminine—obviously prepared with care. Her smile never wavered, but her lashes lowered slightly as though hiding a fleeting shadow in her eyes.

Once they were seated in the car, she leaned closer to Jairus, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “That lunchbox… was it from your wife?”

Jairus’ brows drew together faintly, but he didn’t look at her. “Mn. She likes to cook.” His tone was flat, dismissive, as if it were nothing worth mentioning.

Elara’s lips curved into a fragile smile, her voice touched with quiet melancholy. “She must care for you a lot. I almost envy that… to wake early, to pour her thoughts into something so small, just for you.”

Her fingers toyed lightly with the hem of her sleeve, as though she were brushing away the thought. Then, after a pause, she asked softly, “Jairus… have you thought more about the marriage? Whether you truly wish to… keep it?”

The question lingered in the air, feather-light but edged with thorns.

This time, Jairus answered without hesitation. “It’s just a formality. It doesn’t mean anything.”

The assistant’s grip on the lunchbox tightened, his chest heavy, but he lowered his head and said nothing.

Elara’s smile bloomed, bright and delicate once more. She reached over, her fingers brushing Jairus’ sleeve with a fleeting, almost shy touch. “Then I’m relieved… I was afraid she might take a place in your heart.”

“She won’t,” Jairus said simply, his eyes fixed ahead, his tone final.

The words were light, almost careless—but to Elara, they were everything.

Elara’s smile softened as though she were embarrassed by her own boldness. She lowered her gaze, lashes trembling. “I… I don’t mean to sound childish, but… I’m hungry. The in-flight meal was terrible.”

Jairus glanced at her, and the hardness in his eyes eased again. “What do you want to eat?”

She shook her head quickly, her lips curving into a timid smile. “Anything is fine, as long as you’re with me.”

The assistant, still holding the untouched lunchbox, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His gaze flickered to the carefully wrapped cloth, the weight of Genie’s quiet devotion heavy in his hands.

Jairus didn’t spare it a glance. He turned to the assistant instead. “You’re dismissed. Take the car back.”

“Yes, sir,” the assistant murmured, bowing his head.

He watched as Jairus guided Elara out of the vehicle with a rare gentleness, his hand hovering protectively at her back. She leaned into his presence, her expression glowing with a warmth that seemed to draw every ounce of Jairus’ attention.

The lunchbox in the assistant’s hands felt heavier than stone.

---

later that day, Jairus took Elara to her Villa and went back to his company afterward.

By the time they returned home that evening, Jairus noticed a scrawny stray dog lingering near the gates. Its ribs showed, its eyes cautious but desperate.

Only then did he remember. The lunchbox.

Without a second thought, he asked the assistant for the lunch box, the assistant took the lunchbox from the car and gave it to Jairus, he untied the cloth and set the meal down in front of the animal. The dog sniffed, then eagerly devoured the food, its tail wagging furiously.

Jairus brushed off his hands, his expression indifferent, and walked past as though discarding something trivial.

---

Genie arrived moments later, strolling toward the gate with light steps.

Her breath caught.

There on the grass lay the familiar cloth—her lunchbox wrapper, neatly folded back. And beside it, the food she had poured her heart into… now half-eaten by the dog.

Her pulse quickened, her chest tightening.

She froze, unable to step closer, unable to turn away.

The dog looked up at her with grateful eyes, as if thanking her for the meal. But Genie’s vision blurred, her throat tightening with unshed tears.

A quiet sound made her turn.

Jairus was there, a short distance away, walking toward the mansion with calm, unhurried steps. He glanced at her briefly, unreadable, then continued without a word.

The sound of his footsteps echoed louder than the pounding of her heart.

Genie’s lips trembled. Her hands clenched the folds of her dress as her world tilted.

The hope she had cradled so tenderly only yesterday shattered like fragile glass.

Her food had never reached his lips.

Her love had never reached his heart.

She forced a weak smile at the dog, kneeling to pick up the empty box.

“Eat well, okay?” she whispered hoarsely, stroking its fur with trembling fingers.

But when she stood again, she turned quickly toward the mansion, blinking rapidly, refusing to let the tears fall where anyone could see.

Inside, she washed the lunchbox with steady hands, whispering to herself,

It’s fine. Maybe… maybe he wasn’t hungry. Maybe he was just busy.

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, her chest ached with a truth she could no longer deny.