He Was Her Everything Until He Betrayed Her

"Stop with these little stunts," Luke said coolly. "They're embarrassing and only make things worse for both of us."

Rosalie walked downstairs, and the butler quickly brought out a plate of food. His face was filled with worry as if he were bracing for another one of her hunger strikes.

Seeing the butler's anxious expression, Rosalie suddenly felt a pang of guilt. She realized how foolish it had been to cling to someone who would never reciprocate, dragging others into her mess.

"Don't worry," she said softly. "I'm done putting my health on the line. You won't have to worry about me like that again."

She hadn't even settled in her seat when Luke returned. His eyes landed on her pale face, and a frown creased his forehead. He paused, eyeing her with that same distant expression.

"What's your game this time?" he asked, his tone cold. "Food's on the table. If you're still refusing to eat, fine! Go to the hospital for a glucose drip."

The butler looked as if he wanted to protest but stayed quiet as Luke turned and headed up the stairs, not sparing her another glance.

Rosalie's eyes followed him, noticing he was still in yesterday's clothes. His shirt was wrinkled, and his collar was open just enough to reveal a faint mark that made her heart clench.

She had resolved to let him go, to stop hoping—but seeing that, she felt an ache she couldn't shake.

Rosalie sat down and forced herself to eat, but every bite tasted like cardboard. She glanced around the empty dining room, and a wave of loneliness washed over her. She'd always been terrified of solitude, and Luke had known that. No matter how busy he was, he'd made a point to join her for meals.

In her memories, he was always there. Now, it wasn't just that he skipped meals with her. He probably didn't want to come home at all.

Rosalie continued eating quietly, her silent tears mixing with her food. She didn't know when Luke had come back down, but he was freshly changed across from her.

Quickly, she lowered her head and wiped her tears.

Luke sighed, catching her in the act. "I only said those things out of anger. If you can behave yourself, I won't ignore you." He paused, then softened. "Is the food not to your taste? You're as picky as ever. Let me make you some pasta."

With that, he rolled up his sleeves and headed toward the kitchen like it was second nature.

Rosalie watched him go, memories flooding her mind. She remembered how she sweet-talks him into cooking for her, convincing him to make her favorite dishes despite his usual reservations.

The distinguished Luke Williams was hands-on in the kitchen—for her.

It had been so long since he'd cooked for her that she couldn't recall the last time.

Even if he could never return her feelings, she thought, his kindness over the years was something she could never repay. A part of her longed to reach out and have a real conversation with him.

After all the chaos, it felt like ages since they'd just talked.

She remembered her early days in Florida when she was shy and closed off. Back then, Luke picked her up from school every day, asking about her day, what she'd learned, and whether anyone had given her a hard time.

He had coaxed her out of her shell with patience, making her feel safe enough to share her thoughts, her dreams—everything.

Luke had been there for every important moment in her life—except her college graduation.

She'd come up with excuse after excuse, anything to avoid facing the painful truth that he might simply not care about her anymore.

Steeling herself, she took a step toward him. But before she could speak, his phone rang.

He answered immediately, his voice urgent. "Alright, I'll be there soon. It's no problem."