Chapter 4
The dinner table was perfectly set for three, with three plates, three wine glasses, and three sets of silverware neatly arranged, everything ready for a dinner that was never going to happen.
I had spent most of the evening preparing the meal because Andrew had told me he would be home.
The roast had taken hours. I had prepared vegetables, fresh bread, and a dessert I knew he liked. I had even arranged everything the way he preferred, because after two years of marriage, I knew his habits almost as well as my own.
By eleven, the food had gone cold, and my phone stayed silent.
I stared at the empty chair meant for Andrew, already knowing he was with Vanessa.
I sat alone at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me. The room was too quiet for a dinner that had taken so much effort.
My wolf stayed quiet, and I poured myself a little wine, but after one sip, I set the glass down and stared at Andrew’s empty chair.
I had spent two years learning how to wait for Andrew without expecting anything in return. I had learned how to smile when he arrived late, how to accept excuses, and how to pretend his absences didn't hurt.
Tonight, I was too tired to pretend as the front door opened and I looked up to find Elliot standing in the doorway.
His dark hair was dishedveled, and his hands were shoved into his pockets. His wolf was restless beneath his calm exterior, but his attention immediately went to the table.
His eyes moved from the untouched food to the empty chair, then finally settled on me.
“Let me guess,” he said. “Emergency meeting?”
I set down my glass. “Something like that.”
His jaw tightened. He looked at the table again.
“You've been waiting for him?”
“I was expecting him.”
Elliot glanced at the clock, then at the untouched dinner I had been waiting for Andrew to come home and eat with me, even though Andrew had clearly told me not to wait for him before he left after that call.
His expression said he already knew the answer.
Then, to my surprise, he pulled out Andrew's chair and sat down.
“Well,” he said, reaching for the wine bottle, “seems like a shame to let all this go to waste.”
I blinked.
“Elliot, you don't have to.”
“What?” He poured himself a glass, then topped off mine. “Sit here and pretend everything's normal? Trust me, Samantha, I've had plenty of practice.”
Something bitter lingered beneath his usual sarcasm.
I watched him serve himself some roast, the knife cutting easily through the meat as my wolf quietly studied him.
“This smells incredible,” he said.
He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully before his eyebrows rose slightly.
“Jesus, Samantha. This is restaurant quality.”
Heat crept up my neck.
“It's nothing special. Just a recipe I found.”
“Bullshit.” The word was sharp, but there was no cruelty behind it. “You've been cooking like this for two years, haven't you? All those dinner parties and meals for Andrew's business partners.”
I looked down at my plate.
“I enjoy cooking.”
“And you put this much effort into it every time?”
I shrugged.
“I like things to be done properly.”
Elliot gave a quiet laugh.
“That's one way to describe it.” He took another bite, then looked toward the empty chair. “And he just leaves.”
I didn't answer because what could I possibly say? It was all obvious. I knew it, and Elliot knew it too.
“Every time,” he added.
I reached for my wine.
“He has responsibilities.”
Elliot gave a quiet laugh.
“That's what you tell yourself?”
I looked at him. He didn't look away.
“Andrew leaves you every time someone else calls.”
My fingers tightened around the glass, and I hated that he was right.
He took another bite, and for several seconds, the only sound was silverware scraping against plates before Elliot finally put down his fork.
“He's afraid of you.”
I stared at him.
“That's ridiculous.”
“Is it?” He leaned forward, resting his forearms against the table. “You're everything he thought he wanted, but you're real.”
I frowned.
“What does that even mean?”
“You're here. You see him for what he is. You don't worship him because he's an Alpha or because he's the head of this family.”
His voice lowered.
“You actually know him.”
I swallowed.
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
“Don't I?”
His expression softened.
“I've watched this family destroy everything good that comes near it. I've seen people come into our lives with good intentions, only to be pushed away, hurt, or made to feel like they were never enough. And somehow, everyone in this family acts like that's just the way things are.”
He paused.
“My parents did it with cold calculations.” His gaze settled on me. “Andrew does it by chasing something he thinks he lost.”
I knew exactly who he meant.
Vanessa.
I looked down at my plate.
“He loved her before me.” Elliot's expression tightened.
“That doesn't make what he's doing to you right.”
I didn't respond.
Elliot continued.
“And you?”
His voice became quieter.
“You're the only real thing in this house.”
My eyes burned.
“And that terrifies him.”
I looked away before he could see the tears threatening to form.
“Elliot…”
“You deserve better than this, Samantha.”
The words came out fierce.
“You deserve someone who sees what they have instead of chasing shadows.”
I couldn't answer.
For so long, I had convinced myself that being Andrew's Luna meant accepting whatever place he gave me. I had never questioned whether I deserved more because questioning it meant admitting how little I had received.
My wolf was unusually still.
Elliot wasn't speaking like a younger brother criticizing Andrew. He spoke like an Alpha who had recognized something worth protecting.
When Elliot reached across the table and briefly touched my fingers, the warmth of his hand steadied me like a lifeline.
I looked at our hands, then at him, and Elliot said nothing more. Somehow, that small gesture said more than words ever could.
“For what it's worth,” he said after a moment, “this is the best meal I've had in years.”
A small smile finally escaped me.
“Thank you.”
His fingers gave mine one brief squeeze before he released them, then he picked up his fork and returned to his food while I did the same.
We ate quietly as the storm grew stronger outside without either of us feeling the need to fill the silence or explain Andrew’s absence.
Elliot simply stayed, and somehow, with him sitting across from me, the empty chair no longer felt quite so lonely.