Alexis took a shower and emerged in a bathrobe.

She silently seated herself at the dining table.

Leonel served her the meal and settled down beside her.

"Dig in.”

Alexis ate in silence, her contemplative gaze fixed on the meal before her.

After a spell, she raised her eyes to meet Leonel's and whispered in a soft voice, “Leonel, we could have been an ordinary couple, cooking a simple meal like this, enjoying a few drinks together. But we are not. So why this?"

Suddenly, she swiped the dishes off the table, sending them crashing to the floor.

Pointing vehemently toward the door, she declared, “Leave! Do you think I, Alexis Fowler, lack for men who would gladly cook for me?

Who would share my bed?" Leonel maintained his silence.

"If I so desired, I could have men queued up from one end of Duefron to the other, all eager to cook for me and warm my bed without any repetitions. What do you take yourself for, fawning over me like this?"

Alexis retorted.

The night hung heavy.

In the expansive yet somewhat empty apartment, two people who had once shared an innocent childhood stood face to face.

In their youth, they had huddled together under a single blanket.

Alexis had once assured Leonel, "Don't be scared."

But here and now, between them, there existed nothing but emptiness.

Perhaps all the serenity of their past was merely a prelude to this moment of eruption.

Eight years had elapsed, and Alexis hadn't forgotten.

Nor had Leonel. If he could have, he wouldn't be grappling with that torment.

They had each pursued their own life's endeavors, but their hearts should never have been the pawns. Anyone else could have been embroiled, anyone but Leonel and Alexis.