Maybe this time, the wedding had preoccupied him.
I pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit.
"It’s okay. You know I’m not the type to care about gifts. What matters to me is sincerity…"
His face shifted as if something had just occurred to him.
For a brief moment, excitement flashed in his eyes.
I ate slowly, taking unhurried bites and sipping my wine, letting the silence stretch before casually steering the conversation.
"How’s the wedding discussion with your parents going?"
His chewing stopped. For a fleeting second, his expression stiffened before he forced a smile.
"It’s almost settled."
My voice turned colder, my grip tightening around the stem of my glass.
"What about the banquet? The betrothal money? Have they been decided?"
He gave a small nod.
"Yeah."
A bitter sting crept up my nose and I tilted my head back, draining my glass in one go.
My heart clenched, my thoughts tangled into knots I couldn’t unravel.
Was he truly just obeying his parents?
Or was he planning to stall, waiting until I was too far along, until I had no escape, before taking me in?
I looked at the man I had loved for six years, yet, in that moment, he felt like a stranger.