Chapter 3 Dont Wait Up for Me
At seven that evening, Elsa arrived at the restaurant.
Alexander pulled out her chair with his usual flawless manners.
Elsa sat down and watched quietly as he ordered.
He wore a black business suit with a black shirt underneath. On another man the combination might have looked severe, but on Alexander it only made him appear more composed and aristocratic.
The Horton family had raised him from childhood to become its heir. He came from money, had an elite education, knew how to fight, had impeccable manners, and possessed the mind of a born strategist.
In twenty-five years, Elsa had never heard Alexander curse or seen him truly lose his composure.
He was even unfailingly polite to waiters.
It always seemed as though everything in the world remained firmly under his control.
Alexander was exceptional.
And this exceptional man had married a woman he did not love.
Divorce was inevitable.
While they waited for their food, Alexander placed a jewelry box beside Elsa's hand.
"Third-anniversary gift."
Elsa held her water glass between both hands, nodded once, and glanced at it without much expression.
She had loved Alexander for twenty-two years and been married to him for three.
No one knew better than she did how cold the heart beneath his courteous exterior truly was—or how far away from her it had always remained.
When she was younger, she used to cling to him and demand presents.
Eventually Alexander would get tired of her pestering and give her something, and Elsa would show it off happily for days.
After the Winters family went bankrupt, her mother told her she was no longer the spoiled heiress of a wealthy family. She was simply an ordinary girl now.
Their families were no longer equals, Margaret had warned her. Elsa was no longer a suitable match for Alexander.
From then on, Elsa stopped behaving like a demanding young lady.
She never dared ask Alexander for gifts again.
Alexander might not love her, but he had always done everything expected of a husband in public.
Every year he prepared gifts for her birthday, Valentine's Day, their anniversary—even International Women's Day.
Seeing her lack of interest, Alexander opened the jewelry box himself and took out a diamond bracelet.
One glance told Elsa it had to be worth at least seven figures.
Alexander reached across the table, took her left hand, and moved to fasten it around her wrist.
Elsa instinctively pulled away.
His grip tightened slightly.
He looked up at her, studying her face. "You don't like it?"
In the past, even a cheap hair tie he'd casually handed her could make her happy for days.
Now he was personally fastening a diamond bracelet around her wrist, and she was avoiding him.
Elsa shook her head. "It's fine."
Alexander secured the clasp. "It looks beautiful."
"Thank you."
His brow furrowed.
Elsa had followed him around since childhood. From the time she could speak, she knew how to ask him for things.
Cheap or expensive, if Alexander gave it to her, she accepted it. She had never thanked him with this kind of distance.
Yet after three years of marriage, she had somehow learned to be polite with him.
He decided she must be angry because he'd neglected her while dealing with Serena and had missed their anniversary.
Alexander picked up his utensils and served some food onto Elsa's plate. "Your favorite. Matcha truffles."
Elsa stared down at them, then looked up at him.
"If I wanted to eat something you made yourself, would you learn to make it for me? Just once?"
Alexander cut his steak with elegant precision, his voice low and smooth. "People specialize for a reason. Even an apprentice in this restaurant could make dessert better than I could. If you want something, buy it. You don't need to worry about the money."
Elsa lowered her eyes, hiding the disappointment and hurt in them.
People specialize for a reason.
What a convenient answer.
He could bake a blueberry birthday cake with his own hands for Serena and her son. He could even act like a lovestruck teenager and post about them online.
But he couldn't learn to make one dessert for his wife.
So this was what the difference between love and indifference looked like.
Elsa took a bite of the matcha truffle.
It tasted bitter.
Awful.
She frowned but forced herself to swallow.
It tasted exactly like the feeling in her chest—bitter, endless, with nowhere to go.
She lost all desire to speak. Everything she ate turned to ash in her mouth.
Alexander followed his usual habit of remaining quiet while he ate. Even his smallest movements were controlled and refined.
Silence settled over the table. Only the occasional clink of silverware broke it.
The atmosphere grew strangely oppressive.
Alexander stopped eating and studied Elsa.
As a child, she had barely been able to sit through a meal. When she got older, she talked from the first course to the last.
When they ate alone, she used to practically crawl into his lap and demand that he feed her.
At one point, he had even wondered whether she had ADHD and suggested that her parents have her evaluated.
Even when she was angry, she would cry, shout, pout, and cling to him.
She had never become this silent.
Annoyed by the feeling he couldn't name, Alexander tugged at his collar.
Then a message appeared on his phone.
He glanced at the screen and turned it facedown.
He had just lifted the juice pitcher to refill Elsa's glass when the phone began to vibrate.
Alexander hesitated, rejected the call, and filled her glass anyway.
Before he could even put the pitcher down, the phone began vibrating again.
Their eyes met.
Alexander's expression darkened.
Elsa looked at the phone that refused to stop buzzing.
In all the years she had known him, she had never dared call him over and over like this.
If Alexander didn't answer one call, she would switch to messages. She might send dozens in a row, but she never bombarded him with phone calls.
That was one of his rules.
And Elsa had always known how busy he was and how often he attended formal meetings. She never wanted to cause trouble for him.
The person calling now was obviously Serena.
Elsa could see urgency in Alexander's eyes.
What she did not see was anger.
When the fourth call came, Alexander finally spoke.
"I'll leave the driver with you. Go home and get some rest. Don't wait up for me."
He stood.
Elsa stood at the same time, suppressing the dull ache in her chest as she picked up her bag and phone. "Go. I'll take a cab."
Alexander didn't explain.
Elsa didn't ask.
Distracted as she left the table, she accidentally bumped into a passing waiter. Her phone and handbag fell to the floor, and the contents of her bag scattered everywhere—including the divorce agreement she'd had printed at the law firm.
Alexander bent down to pick up the papers.
Elsa snatched the divorce agreement first.
It still wasn't the right time to confront him.
She would wait until her mother had been discharged.
Alexander looked at the cosmetics scattered across the floor, then at the papers in Elsa's hands. His eyes grew more watchful.
He reached for them. "What are those?"
"Medical documents."
Alexander clearly didn't believe her. "Are they?"
Elsa failed to pull away quickly enough, and he almost took the papers from her.
For a moment, each of them held one side of the document, neither letting go.
Just as the corner in Elsa's hand started to slip free, Alexander's phone vibrated again.
He looked at her once, then released the papers.