Chapter 86
Chapter 13
62
Carlotta arrived exactly at six–thirty, right on cue, as though she had rehearsed her entrance to perfection. Her presence disrupted the
fragile quiet of the morning like a gust of cold wind. As Amber buckled little Nico into his high chair, she deliberately avoided looking up.
But out of the corner of her eye, she caught the sight of Carlotta leaning in and pressing her lips to Luc’s. That familiar, searing pain she
had become accustomed to over the past few days flared in her chest, but she swallowed it down, burying it beneath layers of forced
indifference.
“Hello, Amber,” Carlotta greeted with a bright, overly cheerful voice as she settled into her seat.
Amber forced a smile, her voice hollow as she replied, “Good morning, Ms. Forentino.” She could feel Luc’s eyes on her, studying every
tiny reaction, every flicker of emotion. But Amber had become an expert in masking her feelings–she kept her expression blank, her tone
steady, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply this hurt. She didn’t want to give him anything.
Carlotta turned her attention to Nico next. “Hello, Nico!” she said with forced enthusiasm. But Nico, unlike his mother, didn’t have the
patience for false niceties. His small face scrunched up, his brows furrowing as he spat out the word he had learned to wield like a
weapon.
“No!”
Amber and Luc reacted at once, their voices colliding in their reprimands.
“Nico!” Luc’s tone was sharp, but Amber’s was sharper.
“That was rude, Nico!” Amber scolded, her frustration at the situation bubbling over. “If someone says hello, you greet them back. What
you just did was very rude.”
“Now, greet Ms. Forentino.”
Nico’s lip wobbled, a pout forming as his big eyes flickered uncertainly between his mother and father. After a moment, he relented, his voice small and hesitant as he muttered, “Hello, Ms. Foen–Foen–tino…”
Carlotta, in her desperate attempt to smooth over the tension, smiled brightly. “Hi, Nico,” she replied, her voice light as though nothing had happened. But the awkwardness lingered, heavy in the air like a dark cloud.
The rest of breakfast passed in uncomfortable silence. No one seemed interested in conversation, and the strained atmosphere weighed on everyone. Nico remained grumpy, scowling at his plate, while Luc mirrored his son’s mood, his own expression dark and brooding. It was almost comical–father and son sitting there like twin versions of the Grinch, plotting to cancel Christmas. And then there was Carlotta, awkward and unsure, clearly struggling to find a way to break the ice but not quite knowing how.
Amber kept her gaze down, focusing on her coffee cup, the dark liquid swirling as if it could pull her in and drown her. She didn’t want to be part of this scene. She didn’t want to witness this charade of a breakfast.
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18:30 Sat, Jan 31
Chapter 86
พร 62
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Carlotta ventured into conversation, her voice tentative as the housekeeper poured coffee. “So, Luc, the wedding planner mentioned cake tasting on Friday. Are you free in the afternoon?”
Amber felt her stomach tighten at the casual mention of their wedding, as if someone had pressed a raw nerve. She stared at the intricate patterns on the tablecloth, tracing the embroidered flowers with her mind as if that could drown out the words. She forced herself to focus on anything else–the bitter taste of espresso, the sound of the ticking clock in the background–anything but the conversation unraveling in front of her.
Luc’s reply was cool and dismissive. “Not really,” he said, not bothering to look at Carlotta. “Why don’t you take your mother and sister? You can invite my mother as well. She’d love it.”
Amber winced. His disinterest was palpable, and even Carlotta’s perfectly rehearsed smile faltered for a second before she regained her composure. “What about Saturday?” she asked, her voice a little more hesitant now, like someone walking on cracked ice. “Or Sunday?”
Amber found herself holding her breath. She could feel the tension radiating from Luc like heat. She wanted to scream at them to take this conversation elsewhere, to have it in the privacy of their own space where she didn’t have to be a witness to his coldness and her desperation. But she said nothing, keeping her eyes glued to the table as if it held some secret escape route.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
