CHAPTER XI: Conversations Over Candlelight
1437 Words
The restaurant overlooked the Seine, its tall windows glowing softly against the Parisian night.
Candles flickered on every table, casting warm gold across polished glass and silverware. Soft piano music drifted through the air, blending with the low hum of conversation from other diners.
It was romantic.
Far too romantic.
And yet—
Maxine no longer felt as uncomfortable as she thought she would.
Earlier that day had exhausted her in the best possible way. Walking through Paris, laughing over pastries, taking photos in front of landmarks she had only dreamed of seeing—it all felt strangely natural.
Almost dangerous.
Because she was starting to forget how unusual this all was.
Across from her, Roman casually poured wine into her glass.
“Here.”
Maxine blinked.
“Thanks.”
Roman gave a small nod and set the bottle down.
For a while, they simply ate, enjoying the quiet comfort that had somehow settled between them.
It was strange.
A few days ago, sitting alone with Roman Estillore would’ve felt like a punishment.
Now—
It felt… easy.
Maxine rested her chin lightly against her hand, studying him across the candlelight.
Roman noticed immediately.
“What?” he asked.
She smiled faintly.
“I’m just realizing I barely know anything about you.”
Roman raised a brow.
“That sounds tragic for a married couple.”
Maxine laughed softly.
“It really does.”
She twirled her fork absentmindedly.
“Okay,” she said, suddenly more playful. “Let’s start with something simple.”
Roman leaned back slightly.
“I’m listening.”
Maxine narrowed her eyes.
“How many girlfriends have you had?”
Roman nearly choked on his drink.
Maxine burst into laughter.
“That bad?”
He set his glass down, giving her a flat look.
“You really went straight for that?”
“Of course,” she said. “It’s basic information.”
Roman sighed.
“…None.”
Maxine blinked.
Then blinked again.
“…None?”
He nodded once, expression annoyingly calm.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
She stared at him like he had just announced he was secretly royalty.
“No way.”
Roman leaned back in his chair.
“Why is that hard to believe?”
Maxine pointed at him dramatically.
“Look at you.”
Roman frowned. “What does that mean?”
“You’re tall, attractive, successful, intimidating in a weirdly appealing way—”
She stopped.
Her own words registering.
A beat of silence passed.
Roman slowly raised a brow.
“…Intimidating in a weirdly appealing way?”
Maxine immediately straightened.
“That is not the point.”
A faint smirk tugged at Roman’s lips.
“Noted.”
She cleared her throat awkwardly.
“My point is,” she continued with forced dignity, “someone like you not dating at all is suspicious.”
Roman looked down briefly, his expression shifting.
Not darker.
Just quieter.
“I was busy.”
The teasing atmosphere softened.
“With work?” Maxine asked.
Roman nodded.
“I didn’t really have time for relationships.”
She tilted her head. “That busy?”
He let out a short breath.
“I was the breadwinner.”
Maxine paused.
Something in his tone made her set her fork down.
“What do you mean?”
Roman was silent for a moment, as though deciding how much to reveal.
Then finally—
“My father died years ago.”
Maxine’s expression softened.
“Oh.”
“He had two families,” Roman continued, voice steady. “I’m the son from the first wife.”
Maxine listened quietly.
“After he died,” Roman went on, “someone had to take responsibility.”
His lips curved faintly—but there was no humor in it.
“So I did.”
“For your family?” Maxine asked softly.
“For all of them.”
Her brows furrowed.
Roman nodded.
“My stepmother. My half-sister.”
Maxine stared.
“You supported all of them?”
“For years.”
There was no self-pity in his voice.
Just fact.
“I paid bills. Tuition. Rent. Medical expenses. Daily expenses.”
Maxine felt her chest tighten.
“And they accepted that?” she asked.
Roman gave a short laugh.
“Accepted?”
Something cold flickered in his expression.
“At first.”
His fingers lightly tapped against the table.
“But people get used to convenience.”
Maxine was beginning to understand.
“The more I gave,” he said, “the more they demanded.”
Her lips parted slightly.
Roman looked out the window briefly.
“A new phone. A better apartment. More allowance. Bigger expenses.”
He shrugged.
“No matter what I did, it was never enough.”
Maxine felt a strange ache in her chest.
“How long did that go on?”
“Years.”
She stared at him.
No wonder he worked so much.
No wonder he was always so serious.
Always controlled.
Always distant.
“And then?” she asked quietly.
Roman’s jaw tightened slightly.
“My half-sister started earning her own money.”
“So you thought you could finally stop?”
Roman nodded once.
“I thought they didn’t need me anymore.”
His expression hardened.
“I was wrong.”
Maxine lowered her gaze.
“What happened?”
Roman leaned back.
“My stepmother told people I abandoned them because I started earning more.”
Maxine’s eyes widened.
“What?”
A bitter smile touched his lips.
“She told everyone I cut ties because I thought they were baggage.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Roman shrugged.
“People believe what they want.”
Maxine stared at him in disbelief.
After everything he had done—
Years of sacrifice.
Responsibility.
Providing for people who weren’t even his direct obligation.
And in return—
That?
Her grip tightened slightly around her glass.
“That’s awful.”
Roman looked at her.
For the first time all evening, his expression softened slightly.
“It is what it is.”
“No,” Maxine said firmly.
Roman blinked.
She leaned forward slightly.
“That’s not something you should just accept.”
Her brows furrowed.
“You practically gave up your own life for them.”
Roman didn’t answer.
But something in his gaze shifted.
As if he wasn’t used to someone taking his side.
Maxine exhaled softly.
“I’m sorry.”
Roman gave a small shake of his head.
“Don’t be.”
Silence settled again.
But this time, it felt heavier.
More intimate.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… honest.
After a moment, Roman tilted his head slightly.
“My turn.”
Maxine blinked.
“What?”
He folded his arms.
“You asked about my love life.”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Oh no.”
Roman ignored her.
“Did you have any boyfriends before your ex-fiancé?”
Maxine paused.
Then shook her head.
“No.”
Roman raised a brow.
“None?”
She sighed dramatically.
“Yes, yes. Surprising, I know.”
Roman smirked faintly.
“Interesting.”
Maxine leaned back in her chair.
“I’m a hopeless romantic.”
That made Roman go still.
She gave a sheepish smile.
“I believed in soulmates.”
His gaze remained on her.
“The one person you’re meant to spend your life with,” she continued softly.
“The kind of love that lasts forever.”
Her smile faded.
“And I thought I found that.”
Silence.
The words lingered between them.
Maxine lowered her gaze to her plate.
“I really believed he was it.”
Her voice was quieter now.
“My forever person.”
A small laugh escaped her.
“How embarrassing.”
Roman watched her carefully.
“It’s not embarrassing.”
Maxine looked up.
Their eyes met.
Steady.
Quiet.
“And then,” she said, smiling bitterly, “life decided otherwise.”
Her gaze lingered on him for a second longer.
“And somehow… instead of marrying my soulmate…”
She gestured lightly toward him.
“I married my rival.”
Roman leaned back.
A slow smirk appearing.
“Life has questionable taste.”
Maxine laughed.
A real laugh.
Warm.
Unforced.
And somehow—
That simple moment made the night feel lighter again.
As if they had crossed some invisible boundary.
No more pretending.
No more polite distance.
Just honesty.
Two people who had somehow found themselves in the strangest marriage imaginable.
And yet—
As Maxine looked at Roman across candlelight and Parisian views, she realized something unsettling.
This no longer felt like a mistake.
And that thought frightened her more than anything.
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