The End of a Marriage (Colette and Matheo) novel Chapter 220

Chapter 220

CHAPTER 18

That evening, as they sat down for dinner in the warm glow of the

dining room, Isla couldn’t help but notice a shift in Graham’s

demeanor. Since their arrival from Magnolia Ridge to Willow Creek,

he had been distant, cold, and as unapproachable as a stormy sea. But

tonight, something was different. There was a lighter air about him,

an ease she hadn’t seen in weeks.

She didn’t trust it.

Maggie set a steaming platter of corned beef on the table, the savory

aroma wafting through the room and making Isla’s stomach rumble

in anticipation. She eagerly helped herself, taking a generous forkful

and letting out an involuntary moan of appreciation as the flavors hit

her tongue.

“Maggie, this is absolutely divine,” Isla said, her voice warm with

genuine pleasure,

Maggie’s face flushed a soft pink, the compliment lighting her up like

a candle. “Thank you, love, I remember it’s your favorite.”

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With a pleased smile, Maggie disappeared back into the kitchen to

fetch dessert, leaving Isla and Graham alone at the table. The silence

that followed was thick and strange, like the calm before an unspoken

storm.

Isla focused on her plate, determined not to let the tension get to her.

But Graham’s low, velvety voice broke the quiet.

“You know, New York has some of the best corned beef in the world,”

he said, his tone casual yet carrying an unmistakable undercurrent of

intent. “I could take you to my favorite place sometime.”

Isla froze mid–bite, her fork hovering in the air as she stared at him.

Her brows knitted in suspicion. There was no way that was an

innocent invitation. With Graham, there was always a motive, always

a plan, and this was no exception.

Her first thought was sharp and immediate: When hell freezes over.

But she didn’t say it. Instead, she carefully set her fork down on the

edge of her plate and resumed eating as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

She didn’t trust herself to respond–not without opening the door for

him to slide in one of his persistent marriage proposals.

She had learned to navigate these moments like a soldier crossing a

minefield. Engaging with him, even over something as trivial as

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corned beef, felt like stepping into dangerous territory. His words, his

actions–everything about him felt like a prelude to that inevitable

conversation. And she wasn’t in the mood to play that game tonight.

So she kept her head down and her silence firm, hoping that if she

ignored him long enough, he might drop the subject entirely. It

wasn’t much of a strategy, but for now, it was all she had.

“How does Friday sound?” Graham’s voice was smooth, casual–too

casual. He leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table

as though the matter had already been decided. “There’s an Irish pub

on Water Street called the Dead Rabbit. They serve the best corned

beef in New York. I could take you there Friday.”

The confidence in his tone, the way he spoke as if she had already

agreed, made Isla bristle. She knew him well enough by now to

recognize one of his traps when she saw it. Her eyes narrowed

suspiciously as she set her fork down with deliberate care.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, her tone clipped and firm, like

the snap of a closing door. Then, with a sly smile, she added, “And if

you’re really that starved for attention, I’m sure Vanessa hasn’t gone

far. She’d probably be thrilled to accompany you.”

The satisfaction she felt when Graham’s relaxed expression hardened

into a scowl was worth it, though. His jaw tightened, and a flicker of

irritation crossed his features.

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