Chapter 5 The Dinner That Burned

Elena's POV

I couldn't stay there for another second.I stood up from the side of the bed, holding my bag and wrapping my cardigan about me. The walls of the cottage closed in around me, and Vivian's perfume still clung to the hallway.

I couldn't breathe where she was. I couldn't breathe with all that I built now sullied by her.

Damien sat on the couch, silently, with his jaw locked. Vivian lay beside him with one of her silk blankets draped over her shoulders as though she owned the universe."I'm leaving," I stated, striding toward the front door.Damien's eyes snapped up, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Elena, wait-where are you going?"

"There's a hotel down the next town," I replied.

" I'll be there tonight."

He stood up immediately.

"No. Don't leave.

"Vivian shifted slightly, but remained silent."

"I can't be here," I whispered, looking down at the bag in my hand.

"Not with her. Not like this.

"Damien pushed a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't know she was here. I never told her to come."

"It doesn't matter," I said.

She's here.

And now things feel... off.

He took a step closer, almost hesitantly.

"Let me make it up to you.

"I did not reply.

" I'll cook," he said suddenly. "Dinner. Just us."

I was taken aback. I blinked.

"You'll cook?."

"I know it's not much," he said. "But I'd do something.

Anything to make you stay." Before I could say anything, Vivian sat up more straight.

"You worked all day," she said in a pout.

"Damien, don't exhaust yourself. Let's allow Elena to cook for us instead.

She is the chef, you know."My eyes moved in her direction.

She spoke pleasantly, but her expression said otherwise. She stared at me like I was a member of the staff.

I bit back my response.

"Vivian," Damien barked, "don't

."She smiled sweetly at him.

"What? I'm just saying.

If she really wants to help, this is the perfect way.

"He did not respond to her. But his jaw tightened.

She pouted again. "You've changed, Damien. Ever since you got married, you act like I'm not even in the room."I turned on my heel and walked towards the kitchen without answering.

I didn't need to hear it. I did not need to fight.I needed space.And maybe cooking would distract me from all of that.

The kitchen was still half mine. Not the whole thing, but just enough that my hands went by habit-chopping vegetables, shaking spices over the meats, testing the flame beneath the pot. I kept my strokes precise, even, although my heart beat like wings trapped in a box.It took a couple of minutes before I sensed Damien slipping up behind me. I didn't turn my head.

"I said I'd help," he whispered, standing beside me.I gave him a knife and a cutting board. "You still peeling carrots after all these years?"He smiled weakly. "I don't think so."We sat for a while in silence. Just the soft whacks of knife on board, the stew simmering, and the hum of the old fridge in the distance. It felt strangely comforting. Not exactly peaceful, but something close to that.But I couldn't shake the weight in my chest.I spoke finally.

"Damien."

He halted, regarding me."I need to ask you something. And I want the truth."He nodded slowly.

"Alright."

I glared him dead in the eyes. "What is your background with Vivian? Truthfully."His brow furrowed, and he placed the knife on the counter.

"I already told you. We were close. Friends,Nothing more."

"Did you ever... love her?" I demanded.There was a very long silence before he answered.

"Maybe I did, then," he admitted. "But that was centuries ago. Before the bloodmoon bond. Before us."I scowled at him, seeking truth in his eyes. "Do you love her now?"

"No," he replied matter-of-factly.

"I don't."I remained silent. I simply nodded and returned to stirring the stew, unsure if I believed him. or if I wanted to believe him.

Dinner was unadorned but reassuring. Stew with seasoned root vegetables, rosemary bread, and a wild green side salad with herb snips from the garden. I set three plates out on the table, because as much as I didn't want her here, I wasn't about to be unkind.The table remained still at first. Damien tried to dispel the silence, complimenting the meal. I shook my head at him, too tired to smile.Vivian picked at her food like she was above it all. Then she took one bite of the stew and suddenly dropped her spoon, gasping.

"Oh Moon," she groaned, clutching her stomach.

"Something's wrong-"Damien stood instantly.

"What is it?"She leaned over the table dramatically, a hand on her mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick.

My stomach-did this have milk in it?"I frowned. "No."

"I'm lactose intolerant," she wailed. "I told you that! Damien, I'm going to throw up-"He jumped around to her side, knocking over her chair. "Vivian, okay-breathe.

"She groaned more loudly and curled up into herself. "Why would she put milk in stew?!"I remained silent and placed my napkin on the table.

"I didn't. Put any milk in the stew"

She glared at me, red-faced. "What?"

"There's no milk in that stew," I said, voice low. "I never use dairy in that recipe. It's one of my signature dishes-for clients who are allergic or sensitive." Her expression faltered. Damien looked between us, clearly unsure. I smiled. Cold and quiet. "I thought you were too tired to eat earlier," I said. "Guess you found your appetite." Vivian sat back slowly, her performance unraveling.

I turned and left them both to it in the dining room.The roses Damien had bought were still in the hallway. I cast one eye over them and carried on walking.Some gifts are too late.