Chapter 14 (Author’s POV)

Amanda woke up to an empty bed. The events of the previous night came back to her in flashes-the weight of his words, the cold indifference in his tone.

You look like you've carrying the world on your shoulders That was all he had said before walking out, leaving her to the silence of their new reality.

She had barely slept.

The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating, and unfamiliar. But now, as her stomach growled in protest, there was no time to dwell on emotions.

Hunger called, and it was louder than the ache in her chest. Dragging herself out of bed, she took a quick shower, brushed her teeth, and threw on a simple oversized shirt and shorts.

With quiet steps, she made her way downstairs, the cool marble floors of the penthouse sending a slight shiver up her spine.

The scent of food wrapped around her the moment she reached the bottom of the staircase-rich, warm, and undeniably tempting.

It was unexpected.

She hadn't pegged Raphael as the type to cook, let alone fill a table with what looked like a feast. As she entered the kitchen, she saw him.

His back was turned to her, the soft morning light illuminating the broad expanse of his shoulders.

He was focused on the pan in front of him, frying eggs with a precision that almost seemed out of character. But that wasn't what caught her attention.

Three deep scars ran across his back-harsh, uneven lines that marred the smoothness of his skin. She didn't think. Her fingers lifted, reaching out as if drawn by something beyond her control.

The moment they made contact, Raphael flinched, the spatula in his hand nearly slipping. He turned sharply, eyes dark and unreadable. Amanda immediately stepped back, raising her hands slightly.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, her voice soft.

"I didn't mean to startle you." A pause.

Then, Raphael sighed, shaking his head as he turned back to the stove.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that." "I wasn't sneaking," she countered, her gaze drifting back to the scars.

She wanted to ask about them, but something in his posture told her she wouldn't get an answer.

At least, not easily.

Instead, she walked toward the table, eyeing the plates of food spread before her. Pancakes, toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, even a steaming pot of coffee.

"Did you make all of this?" she asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Raphael slid a freshly cooked egg onto a plate before facing her.

"Obviously." Amanda raised an eyebrow. "Didn't know you could cook."

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. "There's a lot you don't know about me." She glanced at him, feeling an odd shift in the air between them.

It wasn't exactly warm, but it wasn't as cold as last night. Maybe it was the smell of food, or maybe it was the quiet vulnerability of seeing those scars.

She picked up a fork, hesitated, then said, "Well... thanks for breakfast." Raphael didn't respond immediately.

But as he turned back to finish cooking, she thought she heard the faintest hum of acknowledgment. Amanda took a bite of the eggs, chewing slowly as the flavors melted on her tongue.

She hated to admit it, but it was good-really good. She swallowed and, without thinking, muttered, "This tastes really good. I bet you made the same for Annabel, right?" The room stilled.

Raphael stopped mid-motion, his grip on the spatula tightening. A heavy silence followed before he slowly turned around to face her, his expression unreadable.

"What did you just say?" His voice was low, dangerously calm.

Amanda met his gaze, feigning nonchalance as she took another bite.

"I said, I bet you cooked like this for Annabel too."

His jaw ticked. "And why would you say that?" She shrugged. "Just curious. She was your fiancée, wasn't she? I assume she got the five-star treatment too." Raphael exhaled sharply, dropping the spatula onto the counter.

"You assume a lot." Amanda tilted her head, watching him. "Am I wrong?" His eyes darkened, his entire posture stiffening.

"Don't bring her up again."

"Why not?" she challenged, leaning back in her chair.

"Isn't she part of your past? Or is there something more?"

The tension in the room spiked. Raphael's fingers curled into fists, his anger barely restrained.

Without another word, he turned off the stove, he turned and stormed out of the kitchen, his heavy footsteps echoing as he ascended the stairs.

Amanda let out a slow breath, gripping her fork a little tighter. So, Annabelle is still a sore spot. Interesting.

Before she could dwell on it further, her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the screen and hesitated. Caroline.

Her best friend.

The one who had married Charles.

The one she hadn't spoken to in a while. Amanda inhaled deeply before swiping to answer.

"Hello?" Amanda stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the answer button. She knew Charles would be there too-he was always there.

And after everything, after not telling them about Asha's hospitalization, after not inviting them to her wedding, she was sure they had a lot of questions.

Her heart drummed against her ribs. She could ignore it. Let it ring out. But then they'd just call again. And again. With a quiet sigh, she swiped to answer.

"Hello?"

"Amanda!" Caroline's voice was light, relieved.

"You finally picked up." Amanda forced a small smile, even though they couldn't see her.

"Yeah... I've been busy." "Busy enough to forget us?" That was Charles. His voice held no accusation, but she could hear the concern beneath it. Amanda swallowed.

"Of course not. I just-things have been happening so fast."

There was a pause before Caroline asked softly, "How's Ash?" Amanda's fingers tightened around the phone.

"He's okay. Much better now." "And you didn't think we should know he was even in the hospital?" Charles questioned.

"I..." She inhaled sharply. "I didn't want to worry you. You two have a lot going on already." Caroline sighed.

"Amanda, we're your friends. We should have been there." "I know," she said quickly. "I'm sorry." She needed to shift the conversation before they pried further.

"But, um... the marriage has happened. Raphael and I are-" she forced a laugh, "-we're so in love. It's been... amazing."

Silence.

Amanda could practically hear Charles thinking.

He had always been good at reading her, and she wasn't sure if her lie had convinced him. Caroline, however, was easily distracted.

"That's great! I was so sad we couldn't be there, but as long as you're happy, that's all that matters." Amanda hummed in agreement, though her throat felt tight.

"How's the baby?" she asked, steering the topic away from herself.

"Oh, kicking like crazy!" Caroline laughed.

"I swear, he's already impatient to get out." Amanda smiled, genuinely this time.

"That's good. I can't wait to meet him."

"You should," Charles said, his voice more serious now. "It's been a whole month, Amanda.

"When can we see you?" Her stomach twisted. A month? Had it really been that long?.

"Of course," she lied smoothly.

"I'll make time soon." She hated lying to them.

They didn't deserve it. But she wasn't ready-not for their questions, not for their concern, not for them to see the cracks in this marriage she barely understood herself.

"Okay," Caroline said cheerfully.

"Just let us know when."

"Sure." They exchanged goodbyes, and Amanda let out a slow breath as she ended the call.

She placed the phone down, rubbing her temples. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep pretending.

The sound of footsteps made her glance up. Raphael was descending the stairs, now fully dressed in dark slacks and a crisp button-down.

He looked as put together as ever, completely unaffected by the tense morning they had shared.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, her voice more neutral than she felt. He didn't slow his steps.

"Work." He didn't acknowledge her at first. Just walked to the table, picked up a piece of bread, and took a slow bite.

She kept staring.

He didn't seem to care. The silence stretched between them until he finally broke it.

"I want you to stop working." Amanda blinked.

"What?" His expression remained unreadable.

"You heard me." She frowned.

"Why?" But Raphael didn't answer.

He simply took another bite of his bread, as if the conversation was already over.

Amanda just sat there, staring at him, wondering what exactly she had gotten herself into.