MEET TO PART

SEVEN

COFFEE & CUPCAKES ☕🍧🍨

Pristine was practically moving in! I mean, who wouldn't want their buddy to turn their place into a permanent Airbnb, right? And the gym, oh, my sacred morning space, became the hangout spot for "Fitness 101" with Pristine and Roselle turning into workout buddies. It's like my personal space had a "no privacy" sign hanging on it.

Ever since that awkward lobby encounter, conversations with Elle turned as thrilling as watching paint dry. While she and Pristine chatted away like old pals, I was left as entertaining as a rock. Talk about being the life of the party!

Feeling a pang of envy? Nah, denied it confidently when Pristine asked. But witnessing their chit-chats? Yeah, totally jealous! Not because Pristine was chatting her up, but because I was left on "read" mode by Elle.

Drowned my frustration in a scorching tub; emerged after a mini-eternity to find Elle ogling our wedding photo. That grin on her face? Probably reminiscing the time I managed to tangle us in that photo-worthy mess.

During a photo session, Elle's discomfort hit high notes. Trying to pull away, her dress chose my suit's bottoms as its best friend. Cue the accidental eye contact. I decided to throw in a line, "Hey, darling, seems like our clothes are eager for a dance before the bedsheets, huh?"
The air crackled with tension after my feeble attempt at a joke. Yet, within seconds, the room was alive with laughter. Caught in the moment, the photographer seized the perfect shot: her hands rested playfully on my chest, my arms circled her waist, and the sound of our shared laughter echoed off the walls.

Her laughter faded into a dazzling smile, drawing me into the moment. As she turned, surprise flickered in those mesmerizing dark eyes.

"I never knew about this picture," she confessed, her smile as captivating as ever. Masking my emotions, I maintained a stoic facade, provoking a hint of irritation on her fair complexion.

"Hmm," I murmured dismissively, striding purposefully toward my dresser mirror.

"I didn't mean to pry or invade your privacy, but that photo, it intrigued me, and—" she started, but I interrupted sharply. "Privacy, huh? If you're truly averse to prying, then steer clear of my life, my sanctuary, and especially my gym. They're off-limits—"

Pausing briefly, I gathered my resolve to utter the words I'd suppressed for too long. "Stay away from Pristine," I declared, the gravity of my words hanging in the charged atmosphere. When I glanced back, she had vanished from the room, leaving only the lingering heat of our exchanged word

The day started on a sour note; I was grumpy, a feeling I hadn't experienced in ages. The absence of Elle's usual heartfelt goodbye unsettled me. "Goodbye hubby. Have a beautiful day," her words echoed in my mind. It struck me—I hadn't had my morning coffee.

Immediately, I sent John, my PA, to arrange for Matilda to brew my coffee. Ever since Butler Grace fell ill three weeks ago, Matilda had become my go-to for that perfect cup.

As Matilda prepared my coffee, I unconsciously called Elle by her nickname, like Pristine did. "How is Elle?" I asked, noting the oddity in her response but ignoring it in my haste.

Just as my much-awaited latte reached my desk, my father's call interrupted. "Can you come home tonight? Not alone, with Elle, okay son?" His insistence on dinner with both of us before 7 pm irked me.

Frustration welled up as I sipped the disappointing coffee, reminiscent of Mrs. Grace's failed attempts. Leaving work early for the family dinner, the atmosphere at home felt off.