Mirabelle’s POV:
Dinner was supposed to be a refuge after a long day at work. But tonight, the usual comfort felt like a thin layer of ice stretched over deep water.
I could barely taste the food in front of me. Across the table, Noah sat with his eyes downcast, refusing to look at me. It was all he could do to maintain the facade of peace for the kids.
We were halfway through the main course when Skyler began. “Did you and Daddy have a fight?” He asked, his face scrunched up.
I froze, my fork hovering mid-air. I glanced at Noah, hoping he’d handle this, but he was staring at his plate, his jaw clenched.
I swallowed hard and forced a smile. “No, sweetie. Why would you think that?”
“Because you and Daddy aren’t acting like you used to,” Skyler insisted, refusing to let it go. “You’re always doing things separately now. You don’t even tuck us in together anymore.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Tyler cut in. “Yeah.” he said, nodding along with his brother. “You always come at different times to tell us goodnight. And when you read us stories, you’re not even together.” I could feel my face heating up under their gaze.
Why do children have to be so curious? How could they have noticed all the little things Noah and I thought we’d kept hidden?
Mika was the next to speak. “Daddy, is everything okay?”
I couldn’t lie to her, but what could I say? “Everything is fine, darling,” I said softly.
“Then why are you always sad?” Mika’s simple question cut deeper than I expected, and I looked away, blinking back tears.
Thankfully, Grandpa Ed stepped in. “Now, now, now, kids.” He said with a chuckle that sounded almost real. “Your parents have just been busy with work. Sometimes, adults have things to handle, but it doesn’t mean that anything is wrong.” I shot him a grateful glance, hoping the kids would accept that explanation.
Skyler, however, wasn’t so easily swayed. He leaned forward. “If you did have a fight, you should clip each other’s toenails while saying ‘I love you,’ like Mommy made us do when we argued.”
Before I could respond, Noah’s chair scraped back, the sound startling me. “There’s no problem, Skyler. Everything’s fine.” He said, as he stood up quickly. “I have some work to finish. Excuse me.” I watched him walk away, my heart sinking.
The children’s eyes were on me, I could see the disappointment across their faces.
Somehow, I managed to keep smiling through the rest of the meal, even though my heart felt like it was breaking with each bite.
Once dinner was over, and Jamie had cleared the plates, I leaned towards Grandpa Ed. “Would you mind putting the kids to bed tonight?” I asked, my voice barely over a whisper. “I… I need to speak to Noah.”
He nodded. “Of course, my dear.”
I kissed each of my babies a goodnight kiss, holding them a little longer than usual. My heart ached with guilt when I saw the confusion lingering in Mika’s eyes, the curiosity in Skyler’s gaze.
I wanted to promise them that everything was okay, but I couldn’t. Not yet.
As soon as I left the dining room, I made my way upstairs. Our bedroom was empty, the bed neatly made as if no one had touched it.
My breath caught-of course he wouldn’t be here.
Taking a deep breath, I turned and headed down the hall to Noah’s study. The door was half-open, and I could see him sitting at his desk, the glow of his laptop illuminating his face.
He didn’t look up when I entered, so I knocked softly on the door. Nothing. So I knocked again, louder this time.
Finally, Noah’s head lifted “What do you want, Mirabelle?” He asked, coldly.
I hesitated in the doorway, feeling a flash of anger at his coldness. I have never seen him acting this way before. “We need to talk.” I began. “The kids are starting to notice, Noah. We can’t keep pretending everything’s fine.”
He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m not pretending. You’re the one with the problem, not me.”
I bit back a sharp curse, trying to keep my temper in check. “What does that even mean?”
“It means you’re the one who’s making this an issue.” He said bluntly, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve been trying to focus on what matters-my business, our future. But you’re stuck in the past, clinging to your insecurities.”
The tone of his voice made my blood boil. “I’m not insecure, Noah. I’m worried! You don’t understand what it’s like for me, watching you spend all this time with Natasha-a woman who clearly wants you back.”
Noah’s face hardened. “And you don’t understand what is at stake if I back out of this deal with Natasha. My company’s future depends on this partnership.”
“Your company?” I repeated, my voice rising. “What about our marriage, Noah? Doesn’t that matter to you?”
His eyes flashed. “Of course it does. But you’re the one pushing me away. I’ve been trying to keep things together, but you’re too busy playing games with Ken to see that…”
“That’s not fair,” I shot back, my voice shaking. “I’m working with Ken for a reason-to get my father’s company back. It’s not about him, and you know it.”
Noah’s lips thinned into a hard line. “If you want me to end things with Natasha, then you have to end things with Ken. Fair’s fair.”
“You can’t compare the two!” I protested, but he cut me off with a sharp, bitter laugh.
“Why not? You think I don’t see what’s really going on? You’re willing to make me give up everything, but you’re not willing to do the same. That’s the definition of selfishness.” His words hit me hard.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I was angry-so angry-and disgusted. “If you think I’m being selfish,” I said quietly, my voice hoarse with unshed tears. “Then maybe this marriage was never real to you in the first place.”
“What the hell are you trying to say?” He asked, biting down on his lower lip. For a moment, he looked stunned, as if I’d slapped him. Then his face closed off. “Maybe it’s not about what’s real, but about what you’re willing to sacrifice.”
Sighing. “This marriage was never real to you, Noah. And maybe not to me as well.” I replied. I knew I had crossed a line. Maybe I had said the one thing I couldn’t take back. But something inside me wouldn’t let me apologize. Instead, I turned on my heel and walked out, slamming the door behind me.
It was a petty, childish thing to do, but it was the only power I had left.