Honey, This Time, You Will Regret It!

The soft glow of candlelight cast a warm haze over the dining room, but the chill from Felix’s gaze told me I wasn't going crazy or high on something.

“I’ve been too cold to you recently, haven’t I?” Felix’s voice was smooth, and controlled, as he leaned back in his chair. “Priscilla suggested we all have dinner, so I had the chefs prepare all your favorites.”

I felt a scoff crawl up my throat as I raked my hair back. He almost had me for a second. If only I could pretend he meant it, that there was any sincerity in those words. But one glance at Priscilla told me enough. She had the same smug, and glittering eyes as when she gloated on their success while I was dying in that wrecked car. There was more to this dinner than Felix let on. I leaned back, letting my silence answer, and waited to see what he’d try next.

The servers entered in a tidy line as they served the grand feasts Felix claimed were my favorites. I felt my blood boil as I stared at every platter they placed before me.

It was all shellfish. Shrimp, lobster, crab, scallops—all mixed in decadent sauces and delicate garnishes. My jaw tightened. The very thing I was allergic to filled each plate.

“So, this is your idea of making up?” I asked, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up despite myself.

Felix didn’t even blink. “Yes,” he said with a shrug. “Don't you love lobsters?”

He sounded so offhanded and casual, that I questioned what I even saw in him. This man, my husband, had lived with me all this time and still didn’t know a single thing about me. I stared at him, enraged and pitying myself.

“I’m allergic to crustaceans, Felix. Were you trying to kill me tonight?”

I swept my hand across the table, sending plates and food crashing to the floor in a beautiful, chaotic mess. The sound was more satisfying than I expected.

Felix slammed his knife down on the table. “Enough, Giana! Stop lying and acting like a spoiled child. It’s pathetic.”

His words stung, but they also fueled something dangerous within me. I grabbed a knife off the table, letting the cold handle ground me as I rose and slowly walked over to him. “Oh, so now I’m the liar? If you wanted me dead, Felix, at least have the spine to stab me directly through the chest or put a bullet in my head. Don’t hide behind cowardly dinner invitations.”

Before he could react, I drove the knife through his precious lobster, stabbing it straight through the porcelain. Priscilla gasped, covering her mouth with her hands, while Felix just sat there, stunned.

“You’re such a—” I paused, giving him one of my own twisted smiles, “dick, Felix. Whether you love me or not, I’m still your wife.” And with that, I straightened up, took one last look at his shocked face, and strode out of the dining hall with every ounce of dignity I could muster.

The temporary high drained away the moment I left the room, and reality hit like a slow-burning ache. This wasn’t new; it was just another twisted chapter in a long, painful story. I’d known our marriage was empty from the start, but some naive part of me had hoped otherwise, and wanted it to mean something. I guess an idiot would always be an idiot.

I took a shaky breath and headed back to my room. I was still confused about the overlapping fragments of memories in my head, but one thing was for sure, both were real. How did I know? Well, it's because Felix arranged this dinner.

In that nightmare of a life, Felix should have taken Priscilla to a party on some acquaintance’s cruise, and my brother was there. I had no idea what provoked the fight but Vico ended up shot dead. I heard about it on the news, and it was horrifying that I didn't want to believe it but when Felix came home wrapped in bandages, Vico's death came down on me like a missile. Because of this, our father cut me off from the family, and I was banned from attending his funeral.

But tonight had changed. Felix hadn't gone to that party to stage this farce of a dinner. Vico would be safe, as far as I knew, and that thought gave me one less thing to feel guilty toward my family.

Whatever it was that gave me this second chance, I’d make sure it wouldn’t go to waste.

I locked my room and barricaded it with the couch again, then reached for a hidden panel in my closet. A small compartment popped up with the burner phone I hid seven years ago. I ran to the bathroom and after turning on the shower to drown out the sound, I dialed the only number saved on the phone.

The line clicked and I gripped the phone tight as I spoke. “Hey, it’s me. I know it’s been a long time since we talked, but I really need your help.”

There was a long silence on the other end but I steeled my nerves and didn’t let the tension get to me.

“Can you hook me up with the best divorce lawyer you know? And... I need a way to get into a secure computer.”