My Ex-wife, My Destination

Flashback Continues

Daisy’s P. O. V.

I’m in the kitchen, preparing dinner for Luke while he takes a shower. Although there are many maids and servants in this mansion, I like to cook myself because it brings me joy. I enjoy preparing new dishes and experimenting with flavours.

Especially, I like to cook for Luke, even though he never eats it. Still, I hope one day he’ll enjoy the meals I prepare for him. I always imagine the day when Luke sits down at the table with me, takes a bite of food prepared by me, and his face lights up with pleasure. I can’t wait for that day.

The punishment that Luke gave me in his office had left me exhausted, but now I still can’t stop myself from preparing dinner. It’s something I never miss.

After finishing my work in the kitchen, as I enter the room, my breath hitches when I see Luke standing there, clad only in a towel. His wet brown hair and glistening skin send a shiver down my spine, burning my body.

I just can’t resist this man! He is the epitome of hotness and perfection.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

Despite the exhaustion from the punishment he gave me in his office, I feel a rush of desire coursing through my veins at the sight of him.

I can’t tear my gaze away as I take in every inch of his toned physique, the droplets of water trailing down his chest and abs. My heartbeat quickens as I imagine the feel of his damp skin against mine and the heat of his body mingling with mine. Damn!

As his eyes shift towards me, I immediately lower my gaze, playing with my fingers.

“Why are you standing at the door, Daisy?” He asks, approaching me. “What do you want?”

My whole body trembles as he stands close to me. He grabs my chin in a rough grip to make me look into his blue eyes. “When I ask you something, I want an answer. Haven’t you understood this in the six months of our marriage?”

“I-I,” he always makes me stammer because of his intense gaze. “I came to call you for dinner.”

He leaves my chin with a jerk, scoffing, “Do you really think I’ll eat the meal you prepared?”

I shake my head in response.

“Then why the hell do you come to call me for dinner every night?” He growls, grabbing my arms.

Oh, God. Why does he yell so much?

“Because I have hope that one day you’ll join me for dinner,” I whisper, gazing deep into his eyes. His expression softens for a few seconds, and I see a glimmer of something unfamiliar in his eyesperhaps a hint of remorse or longing. But just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by the mask of a heartless person.

“You’re delusional if you think that’ll ever happen,” he scorns, releasing my arms. “Now leave me alone.”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, feeling a pang of disappointment. Despite his harsh demeanour, despite the walls he’s erected around himself, I still believe that there’s a part of him that longs for connection and love, just as much as I do.

I leave the room with a heavy heart.

***

Like every night, I fall asleep on the sofa in Luke’s room, hoping to sleep, cuddling him in his bed one day.

After a few minutes, I wake up coughing. My throat feels dry, and I stretch my arm in search of the water jar that I always keep by my side. However, I find the jar is empty, and I notice Luke isn’t in bed.

My brows narrow in confusion as I wonder where he could have gone in the middle of the night. When I lay down to sleep, he was working on the laptop.

After checking the bathroom and balcony, I make my way to the kitchen to get some water because I’m parched.

But as I reach the kitchen, my eyes widen at the sight in front of me. I find Luke sitting at the kitchen table, quietly eating the dinner I prepared earlier, his focus entirely on the food before him. I can’t believe my eyes.

“You’re delusional if you think that’ll ever happen.”

His words echo in my ear. And I wonder, am I still sleeping and dreaming?

I rub my eyes to confirm that I’m not hallucinating. But when I open my eyes again, Luke is still there, sitting at the table, eating the dinner I made for him.

Fuck!

My heart leaps in my chest and my eyes become moist. Could it be? Is he actually eating the meal I prepared? It can’t be possible.

I stand frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Part of me wants to rush forward and hug him. But another part of me hesitates, afraid that it’s all just a cruel joke, that he’ll push me away and scorn me for my foolishness.

A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I watch him, my heart swelling with joy and disbelief. Luke is eating the food I prepared. My sore throat has become a forgotten business now.

Despite the overwhelming urge to confront Luke, I know I can’t risk facing him because I’m certain he’ll find a reason to shout at me and won’t even finish his dinner. Therefore, I quietly turn and return to the room.

As I lie on the sofa, my mind races with questions and doubts. Can this be a sign that Luke is finally seeing my efforts for him? Or am I just reading too much into a simple gesture? Has he eaten the food I’ve prepared behind my back before, and I just never knew? Or is this the first time he has done so?

Whatever it is, one thing is certain: seeing Luke eating the meal I prepared gives me hope and happiness that I haven’t felt in a long time. And as I drift off to sleep once again, I cling to that feeling, holding the belief that maybe, just maybe, things are starting to change for the better.