Lunch was supposed to be peaceful. Supposed to be.
Mio plated the last dish—a glossy garlic-butter shrimp pasta—before carrying it to the dining table. The aroma filled the air, warm and rich, exactly the kind of meal she knew Claude loved. It was her attempt at being nice… despite everything he'd done this morning.
Claude sat across from her, already watching her like she was the only thing worth paying attention to. Of course he wasn't wearing his tie properly. Of course his shirt was half-buttoned even after she had scolded him for an hour about wearing clothes like a normal adult.
Mio tried to ignore him. She straightened her utensils, kept her eyes on her plate, and refused—absolutely refused—to look at his annoyingly handsome face.
Claude leaned forward. "Is my beautiful wife upset?"
"No," Mio replied sharply, stabbing a shrimp as if it had committed a crime. "Eat."
