Hmm, he exhaled, catching sight of the table. You waited for me?
Of course, she said softly, pouring him a glass of wine. You work so hard; the least I can do is share dinner with you.
Mr. Leo smiled, stepping closer. That's my love
He leaned in to kiss her cheek, but she turned slightly just enough for the kiss to land near her temple instead of her lips. The movement was subtle, unnoticeable to anyone else.
But he felt it.
Still, he said nothing, choosing instead to take his seat. Smells good. What's for dinner?
Your favorite, she said, lifting the cover off the dish. Steamed rice with spicy prawns. And red wine.
He chuckled. Now that's how to welcome a man home.
She smiled faintly and sat opposite him, watching as he began to eat. Every move he made, the way he avoided her eyes, the way he chewed too quickly spoke of a man holding a secret.
It wasn't guilt yet. It was fear, the quiet kind that hides beneath practiced charm.
Long day? she asked, her tone casual, soft.
He nodded. Exhausting. Board meetings, investors, the usual madness. He took another bite. You know how it is.
She nodded, sipping her wine. Yes. I know how you are when you're busy.
He looked up briefly, sensing something in her tone, but her face was unreadable calm, elegant, serene.
They ate in silence for a while. Only the soft clinking of cutlery filled the air.
Then spoke, her voice as gentle as ever. Leo, do you remember that trip to Australia?
He froze for just a second. It was small, almost imperceptible but she caught it.
He cleared his throat. Of course. That was two months ago. Why?
You were there for that business conference, weren't you?
Yes, he said quickly. And you were supposed to come with me, remember? But you had that charity gala.
I remember, she said quietly. I sent Joanna in my place. She wanted to see the world.
Her eyes didn't leave his face.
He looked at her for a long moment, then forced a light laugh. Ah, yes. Your goddaughter. She was excited about that trip
She was, Elizabeth agreed. Too excited, maybe.
The silence that followed was sharp, slicing through the air like thin glass.
Leo set down his fork slowly. Why are we talking about this, Elizabeth!
Because, she said softly, I saw her today.
He blinked. You saw Joanna?
She nodded. She came to see her mother. And I happened to be there.
Leo shifted in his seat. Oh. How's Clara?
She's not well, Elizabeth replied simply. Neither of them are, I think.
Her voice was light, but her eyes... her eyes didn't move.
He felt the weight of her gaze not accusing, not angry, but unsettlingly still.
Elizabeth, he said carefully, what exactly are you trying to say?
I'm not trying to say anything, Leo, she murmured, folding her hands on the table. I'm only repeating what I heard.
He frowned slightly. And what did you hear?
She paused, took a slow sip of her wine, and then said it calmly, like she was commenting on the weather.
That Joanna is pregnant.
The glass in his hand stilled.
For a moment, he didn't move, didn't breathe. His eyes flickered with confusion, then disbelief. What?
Pregnant. Elizabeth repeated, her tone even. And she claims you are the father.
Leo dropped the glass too quickly; it clinked against the table, spilling red wine across the white cloth. He grabbed a napkin, his movements shaky. That's ridiculous."
I thought so too, Elizabeth said softly.
He stared at her, his heart thundering. You can't possibly believe that, Elizabeth. You know me.
She tilted her head slightly. Do I?
That single question hung in the air.
Leo rubbed his forehead, standing abruptly. I made a mistake, he blurted out before realizing what he'd said. I mean it was one night! It meant nothing!
Her face didn't change. In Australia?
He froze. You knew?
I suspected, she said. I didn't want to. I told myself it was just business. But today, when I looked at that girl's face... I saw yours.
Her voice never trembled.
Leo's legs felt weak. He sank back into his chair, running a hand through his hair. Elizabeth, listen to me. It wasn't planned. She came to my room that night she said you sent her to give me something. She was different, vulnerable. I didn't think....
You didn't think at all, Elizabeth finished for him. That's usually how these things begin.
He exhaled shakily. I swear, it meant nothing. You'remy wife. You're everything to me.
Her eyes softened slightly, but her voice stayed cool. Then why did you hide it?
Silence filled the room again, broken only by the faint ticking of the wall clock.
Finally, Leo spoke, his tone lower now, almost pleading. You have to believe me, she didn't tell me she's pregnant, I can fix this. I'll talk to her, make sure she understands her place. If she's really pregnant and I doubt she is, I'll handle it.
Handle it, Elizabeth repeated quietly.
Yes, he said quickly. I'll meet with her tomorrow. Just to confirm things. If she's lying, I'll make her stop this nonsense. If not... He hesitated, then added, If not, I'll offer her a settlement. Quietly. No need for scandal.
Elizabeth looked at him for a long time studying the man she once thought she knew.
Do you think money fixes everything, Leo?
He forced a smile. It helps.
She leaned back, her expression unreadable. I see.
He stood, trying to gauge her mood. You're quiet, Elizabeth too quiet. Please, don't let this come between us. I'll make it right, I promise
Her eyes lifted to his, calm and distant. Make it right, she echoed softly.
He nodded quickly. Yes. I'll meet her, confirm things, and end this once and for all.
Good, she murmured. You should rest now. It's been a long day.
He hesitated, uncertain, but she smiled faintly the kind of smile that made him believe, for now, that everything was still fine.
Thank you, Elizabeth, he said, touching her shoulder briefly.
She didn't flinch. She didn't pull away.
She only watched him leave, watched his back disappear down the hallway toward their bedroom, where he would sleep peacefully, believing he still had control.
When the door closed behind him, Elizabeth turned her gaze toward the half empty glass of wine.
Her hand was steady as she lifted it. The red liquid shimmered in the light, catching her reflection calm, composed, and cold.
She sipped once, slowly, then set the glass down.
No tears. No anger. No words.
Only silence.
The kind that births storms.