Elara's POV
I stepped into the hot spring, feeling the warm water envelop me. Despite my nervousness about wearing Eleanor's suggestive gift, I decided to embrace the moment. The red bikini bottoms were much more revealing than anything I would have chosen, but what did it matter? Damien and I were divorcing.
The steam rose from the water, creating a misty veil between us. I settled on the submerged stone bench, keeping a respectful distance from him. The silence between us was thick, broken only by the gentle lapping of water against the rocky edges of the spring.
"Would you like some snacks?" Damien asked, gesturing to a small plate of fruit and cheese at the edge of the spring.
I shook my head. "I'm not very hungry."
His eyes briefly traveled over my exposed shoulders and collarbone before returning to my face with practiced indifference. I knew that look. Seven years of marriage had taught me to recognize when Damien was merely going through the motions of politeness.