Chapter 4
The photo showed him at a trendy new steakhouse, the kind of place that served fancy cuts of meat and expensive pasta.
In the picture, Dante was happily eating steak, fed to him by none other than Vivienne. The caption read: [First love, still feels like the first time.]
Stella couldn't help but laugh bitterly. Dante had always claimed that he hated steak.
He'd once explained that his father had been seduced by a foreign woman who was a steakhouse owner and abandoned him and his mother when he was just three years old.
It had left him with a deep-seated aversion to anything food related to steak.
Stella had no idea about all this when they first started dating. For their first date, she spent a month's salary to take him to the city's finest restaurant, hoping for a romantic evening.
But when the expensive steak was placed before them, Dante's face darkened. Without a word, he flipped the table and hurled the hot plate of food at her, then stormed off.
She was left alone, humiliated, as the entire restaurant stared. Later, he wouldn't speak to her for a week.
In the end, she had to apologize in the living room for hours before she finally transferred him a huge sum of money as compensation, and only then did he let it go.
Now, seeing him happily eating a subpar steak, probably frozen for who knows how long, fed to him by Vivienne, Stella felt nothing but disdain.
He had once claimed to despise that food, but now? He was all smiles, looking as if he couldn't be happier. Funny how love could heal even the deepest wounds.
Stella shook her head and returned to the phone, seeing her colleagues had already flooded the comment section with "congratulations".
Usually, Vivienne posted cryptic, vague photos, and while everyone knew what was going on, they'd all chosen to ignore it.
But now, with Dante's public post, it was as if he'd made it official. His friends were quick to chime in with congratulations.
And Dante, usually the serious, stiff type, was even responding with smiley emojis.
Stella let out a small, amused chuckle. She knew exactly what he was doing.
He wanted her to be jealous, to feel that old familiar urge to beg for his forgiveness like she once had.
But this time? This time, she simply turned off the app.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten all day.
She quickly shot a message to her best friend Emilia Blake: [Wanna grab some BBQ?]
Emilia replied almost instantly: [Yes, please!]
*****
At the barbecue stand, Emilia was busy working through her skewers when she suddenly glanced at her watch and asked Stella, a little cautiously, "Isn't Dante super strict about you being home by ten?"
At the barbecue place, Emilia was halfway through a skewer when something clearly clicked in her mind.
She glanced at her watch, lowered her voice, and asked carefully, "Wait, isn't your guy super strict? Didn't he say you have to be home by ten?
"It's almost past curfew. You're not heading out?"
Stella suddenly remembered that ever since they got together, Dante was always saying he felt insecure, worried she'd mess around, so he set all these crazy rules for her.
She had to be home before ten every night, had to text him back right away, and couldn't let his calls go past three rings, no matter what was happening.
If he video-called to "check in" and she dared hang up—didn't matter if she was in the middle of a client meeting—he'd storm out, spend the night elsewhere, and give her the silent treatment.
Because she knew the shadows his childhood left on him, she endured it all quietly.
But Dante was a total hypocrite. He'd go all day without texting back, or just stay out all night like it was no big deal.
Once, she called him on video just to make sure he was safe, and he exploded, sent dozens of angry messages accusing her of being controlling and disrespecting his privacy, then iced her out for a month.
He really thought he hid his little secrets well.
But she'd already seen the photos Vivienne sent. So she knew exactly who he'd been with.
The pathetic part was how seriously she obeyed his rules, turning down friends' gatherings over and over because of his "curfew," until people simply stopped inviting her.
Her circle shrank smaller and smaller, until her whole life revolved around Dante.
Now that she looked back, it was all so painfully not worth it.
Stella bit fiercely into a skewer.
"Don't worry about it. He can't control me anymore. We're over," Stella said.
Emilia froze for a moment, then patted Stella on the back, truly happy for her.
"Stella, you should've dumped him ages ago," she said. "After all the crap Dante pulled? He never deserved how good you were to him.
"Okay, enough of that. Tonight's on me. And you're not leaving till we've eaten ourselves silly."