Chapter 370
Chapter 370:
Three days had passed since that argument at the restaurant, and now he was acting as though we were strangers again — just like those uncomfortable early months of our marriage.
Every night, he stayed on his side of the bed, putting as much distance between us as the mattress would allow. This morning, when I opened my eyes, he was already gone, and the house felt emptier than ever.
Lately, I had made a habit of coming home early just to cook for him, hoping that small gesture might coax things back to normal. But every night he returned so late that I either fell asleep before he walked through the door, or he would pass by and tell me in an exhausted voice that he had already eaten.
Tonight, I sat in the living room and refused to let sleep win. I had every intention of finally talking to him about Layla and Félix. But when he came in — stumbling through the door hours past midnight, smelling of alcohol and fatigue — I could already feel the conversation slipping away from me.
“Can we sit down and talk for a moment?” I asked, raising my voice as he started up the stairs, his gaze fixed on anything but me.
“It’s late, Sophia. We’ll talk tomorrow,” he answered, not breaking his stride.
𝖶e 𝘶p𝗱a𝘁𝖾 𝗲v𝖾𝘳у 𝘄𝗲𝘦𝗄 𝘰𝗇
“How are we supposed to fix anything if you keep avoiding me p>
“I’m not avoiding you. Work has just been overwhelming p>
“That’s not true,” I said, stepping into his path before he could disappear upstairs. “Why are you treating me this way p>
“I’m not doing anything, Sophia.” The distance in his voice tightened something in my throat.
“That’s exactly the problem. You keep insisting you’re not doing anything, Daniel, and that is precisely what’s tearing us apart. Instead of turning your back on me, why won’t you just talk to me?” I reached out my hand, hoping he would meet me halfway — but he slipped his into his pocket so quickly that all I could do was stand there and watch.
Then, without warning, he let out a short, humorless laugh.
“And when I ask you about Félix and Layla, do you ever give me a real answer p>
The air left my lungs as I forced myself to hold his cold, unreadable gaze.
“You see? You can’t even answer something that simple,” he said, shaking his head and turning toward his room.
“Then ask me right now!” I called after him, refusing to let his back be the last thing I saw.
He stopped mid-step and slowly turned to face me, wearing that same distant expression that pressed so heavily against my chest.
My heart ached as I stood there waiting — waiting for whatever it was he believed he needed to ask that night.
“Do you still have feelings for him p>
The question hit me harder than I expected, knocking the breath from me.
“Do you still love him, Sophia?” he repeated, louder this time.
“No! How could you even think that p>
“No p>
“No. I never loved him p>