[Dinner Table]
The long dining table was set impeccably—crystal catching the light, food arranged with care rather than excess.
It felt almost like an old family dinner, the kind the mansion hadn’t seen in years.
Patricia took one look at the spread and let out a low whistle.
"Okay, I officially forgive rich people," she said. "This slls illegal."
Lucas laughed, already reaching for a serving spoon. "Wait till you taste it before pledging loyalty."
Evelyn smiled as she took her seat beside Alexander. "Everything looks amazing," she said honestly, glancing toward Pauline. "Thank you."
Pauline inclined her head slightly. "I am glad you like it."
Margaret tasted the soup, nodded once in approval. "Good. At least soone still rembers how als are ant to be prepared in this house."
Lucas raised his glass. "To whoever brought sanity back into this kitchen."
Patricia clinked hers with his. "Cheers to that."
The table relaxed into easy conversation—wedding details, nu suggestions, Patricia asking far too many questions about rituals and Lucas pretending he knew the answers.
"This fish," Patricia said after a bite, eyes widening, "is criminally good."
Evelyn laughed. "I told you."
Alexander watched them with a faint smile, his hand resting lightly against Evelyn’s chair, grounding, protective.
Then Olivia spoke almost casually.
"Jack would have loved this," she said lightly, almost nostalgically. "He always had a big appetite."
The air shifted.
Not dramatically or loudly just enough to make everyone uncomfortable.
Margaret’s spoon paused mid-air.
Lucas went still.
Evelyn felt Alexander’s posture change beside her—subtle, instinctive.
But before Margaret could say anything, Pauline spoke.
Her voice was calm, even and polite.
"Oh," she said calmly, reaching for her glass. "He always preferred simpler food."
Olivia blinked, caught off guard.
Pauline t her gaze. It wasn’t cold or hostile, just perfectly composed.
"Jack never had much patience for long dinners," she continued. "He liked eating quickly and leaving. Alexander was the one who stayed, talked and helped in the kitchen afterward."
She took a sip of water.
"It’s easy to confuse habits when you weren’t there for them."
Silence followed.
It wasn’t accusatory, it wasn’t loud but it was unmistakable.
Patricia shifted slightly in her seat, suddenly fascinated by her plate and Lucas’s jaw tightened not in anger but during an attempt to control his grin.
Olivia’s smile stiffened, the words she had ant to follow died in her throat.
Margaret cleared her throat deliberately. "Well," she said, lifting her glass, "what matters is that this family is finally sitting together again."
Pauline turned to Evelyn again, effortlessly redirecting the room.
"Would you like more rice, dear?"
"I don’t know about Evelyn, but I would definitely like so more rice," Patricia said, extending her plate.
Pauline smiled and served her rice, completely ignoring the deadly stare Olivia was giving her.
And just like that, the line was drawn.
"The food is excellent," Lucas added.
Patricia, sensing the shift but refusing to let it sour the night, added, "And that weddings are coming up very soon."
Evelyn glanced at Pauline and Pauline t her eyes and gave the smallest nod.
The ssage was unspoken but unmistakable:
So roles could be shared and so could not but so lines, once redrawn, would not be crossed again.
The conversation slowly resud but Olivia remained quiet for the rest of the al, her fingers curled tightly around her glass as the realization settled in far deeper than irritation.
....
Dessert was served but Olivia didn’t stay.
She pushed her chair back smoothly, placing the napkin with deliberate care beside her plate.
"I am not feeling very well," she said lightly, already standing. "Please don’t wait on ."
No one stopped her.
"She is skipping dessert," Lucas remarked casually, helping himself anyway. "Bold choice."
Patricia grinned. "Tragic choice."
Evelyn laughed softly, the tension of the evening finally loosening from her shoulders. She complinted the food again and Pauline accepted it with a small, pleased smile.
The conversation drifted easily after that—wedding tilines, flowers, how Margaret absolutely refused to attend any ceremony that involved too much white.
Patricia chid in with dramatic opinions and Lucas backed her up purely out of mischief.
Evelyn felt good and so did Alexander who were busy stealing glances while others were all over planning their wedding.
Just then footsteps echoed from the corridor.
Benjamin entered the dining room with his jacket still on and an expression unreadable.
And then the whole air in the room shifted
"Good evening," he said, his voice even.
"Benjamin," Margaret acknowledged calmly.
He glanced at Evelyn. "I hope you are settling in well."
"I am," Evelyn replied, polite but steady.
Benjamin gave her a nod but nothing more.
He didn’t sit and didn’t look toward the dessert.
"I will be in the study," he said, already turning away.
And just like that, he was gone.
Margaret lifted her teacup without comnt.
"Well," she said mildly, "the sweets won’t eat themselves."
Conversation resud almost imdiately.
No one chased after Benjamin and no one questioned his absence.
He had made his choice for the evening and the table, quite clearly, had moved on without him and Olivia.
....
[Benjamin’s Study]
The study was dim, lit only by the desk lamp and the faint glow of the city beyond the tall windows.
Benjamin loosened his tie as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with more force than necessary.
His shoulders ached, his head throbbed and for the first ti in weeks, the house felt louder than the boardroom ever had.
He sat behind the desk, reaching for the files he had brought ho—contracts, reports, unfinished work ant to distract him from everything else.
There was no doubt that work had been hectic without Alexander. With him gone, all the responsibilities fell on Benjamin’s shoulder and it was very exhausting.
Just then, the door flew open.
Benjamin didn’t look up, he didn’t have to.
Olivia stood there with her chest rising sharply and eyes blazing.
"So," she said tightly, "you skipped dinner and didn’t even bother telling you would be late."
Benjamin rubbed his temples. "Not now, Olivia."
Her jaw clenched. "You don’t get to dismiss ."
He finally looked up.
His gaze was tired, flat and dangerous in its restraint.
"I have had a fourteen-hour day," he said evenly. "I am not in the mood for an argunt."
She stepped closer anyway. "Then explain why Pauline is suddenly running this house like I don’t exist."
....
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