The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 93

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth**
*by Eli Dane*
**Crest 93**

**Chapter 93**

**Gemma**

“We ordered takeout together a few times,” Jace says, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

I blink in surprise, momentarily caught off guard. A few times? My mind races back, and I can only pinpoint one instance where we shared a meal outside. Just one solitary occasion, yet it lingers in his memory?

As if on cue, our food arrives with a flourish, but before I can even lift my fork, the waiter clumsily knocks it off the table. I lean down to retrieve it, and in that instant, Jace instinctively places his hand on the edge of the table, shielding me from the sharp corner. It’s a simple gesture, yet it resonates deeply within me. When I straighten up, he quietly retracts his hand, as if he knows that his small act of care has not gone unnoticed.

I do notice. How could I not? It’s such a minor action, but it speaks volumes about his character—thoughtfulness wrapped in silence. It’s a stark contrast to Cassian, whose indifference often leaves me feeling unseen. Jace may not be the most loquacious person, but his actions resonate with a depth that words often fail to convey.

As we dig into our meal, he slides a piece of salmon onto my plate—my absolute favorite.

“How are things between you and your husband?” he asks, his tone suddenly serious.

My hand trembles slightly as I grip my fork, the weight of his question sinking in. Zina must have shared something; how else would Jace be privy to the turmoil swirling in my life with Cassian?

“Not great,” I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

That succinct phrase encapsulates the reality of my marriage to Cassian—strained, tumultuous, and filled with unfulfilled expectations.

Jace purses his lips, his brow furrowing as he contemplates my response. I can sense his reluctance to voice his thoughts, a hesitation that hangs in the air between us.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I encourage him, my curiosity piqued. “I can tell you want to say something.”

We’ve shared so much over the years—college memories, laughter, and now this meal. We’re friends, and there’s no reason for him to hold back now.

“I’m just curious why someone as amazing as you would waste time on somebody like Cassian,” he finally says, his voice tinged with concern.

I pause, my fork hovering above my plate, as I reflect on the past three years. Even Jace—someone who has been absent from my life for so long—can see the truth that I’ve been blind to.

Cassian treats me poorly.

It’s as if the entire world has recognized the reality of my marriage, while I’ve been the one wearing blinders. Perhaps they possess a clearer perspective on my situation.

I’ve squandered three years chasing a mirage, driven by my stubbornness and a misguided sense of hope. Yet life is not infinite; it doesn’t grant you endless cycles of three years.

One thing is abundantly clear: I can no longer afford to waste my time on Cassian.

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