Chapter 5 THE DINNER TABLE ILLUSION

The dinner was just meant to be another ordinary evening.

A quarterly celebration for the firm's success; a sleek reservation at a five-star rooftop restaurant in the city. The kind of place that had soft lightning, excess wines that had no price tags, and laughter echoed through the glasses.

Elijah hadn't planned to be there. He hated these events. The handshakes, the subtle hierarchy of seating, the careful dances around ego, but Mark insisted.

"You've done a good work this quarter," he'd said, clapping Elijah on the back like a father praising a son. "Your presence makes a statement."

So Elijah put on his best suit, got his shoes polished, and got to the venue on time, as he had already told himself that he wasn't going to talk to anyone till he left.

What he hadn't prepared for, what he didn't expect, was that she would be there too,

Sofia.

She was seated beside Mark, her dress was a red satin gown that caught the attention of everyone. She had a beautiful wig on her head, She looked elegant and composed.

Elijah's breath caught when their eyes met, then she immediately turned away.

He took his seat two places down, Close enough to see her, too far to speak.

The event began with toasts and laughter. The usual flattery and passive compliments passed around like small snacks. Mark basked in the attention. He talked deeply about projections, growth, and new partnerships. He stepped into the spotlight like he owned it, his arm hung loosely around Sofia's chair.

Sofia, while pouring a wine into her glass, continued to nod at the right moments,

But Elijah saw it.

The way she flinched slightly when Mark laughed too loud. The way she kept adjusting the edge of her napkin. The way she gazed on her plate for long after she'd stopped eating,

She was performing,

And it hurts to behold.

---

"Midway through the meal, someone steered the conversation toward relationships."

"Marriage," one of the senior partners joked, "is like running a company, you either scale it, or it collapses under poor management."

Laughter followed, some real, some forced.

Mark chuckled and leaned toward the table. "The secret is letting your wife believe she's in charge, while you quietly let the ship keep floating."

There was more laughter.

Sofia didn't smile.

Someone turned to her. "What's your secret, Sofia?"

She hesitated. "Silence, mostly."

Another wave of chuckles, but Elijah didn't laugh, neither did she.

Mark raised his glass. "To silence, then."

But Sofia didn't lift hers.

Instead, her gaze met Elijah's across the table, across the noise.

And in that second, everything around them blurred.

There it was again,

That tether, that invisible current

That ache neither of them spoke about,

She looked away first.

---

An hour into the event, Elijah stepped out to have some air. He noticed footsteps approaching,

He didn't need to turn.

"You always disappear when the crowd reduces" Sofia said softly beside him.

"It's getting loud in there," he said, glancing around.

She nodded, crossing her arms. "I used to enjoy things like this-the fun, the discussions, but now it all just feels like noise."

He glanced at her, "You okay?"

She hesitated.

Then: "I hate feeling like a non-living thing."

Elijah turned fully toward her, "You're not."

"I know that here." She tapped her temple. "But not always here."

There was a stillness for a while.

The city pulsed beneath them, Laughter echoed behind.

"I see the way he talks about you," Elijah said quietly. "Like you're an accessory."

She looked at him, "You hear it too?"

"All the time."

She gave a laugh that was half, it was bitter and soft. "When we were dating, he used to listen to everything I said like it was a scripture. Now I can't even finish a sentence without being corrected."

"I'd listen," Elijah said before he could stop himself.

She blinked.

And in that moment, she looked tired, not from the day, but from years.

"I know," she said.

And that single admission cracked something wide open.

They stood there, side by side, the space between them smaller than ever, yet still technically intact, No touch, No kiss,

Just everything else.

"I should go back in," she said eventually.

He nodded, "Yeah."

She turned and paused, "You looked good tonight, In that suit."

His heart skipped.

"You too," he said.

She gave him one final look, then walked back inside, into the noise, the spotlight, the performance,

Leaving Elijah on the edge of the city, wondering how long a man could stand on a line before it disappeared entirely beneath his feet.