The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

Rachel glanced at Haynes and noticed his expression had darkened, his gaze toward her turning icy cold.

Stella, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to the growing tension and kept pressing on, her tone light and relentless. "So, when was the first time you two held hands? Who made the first move? Where did you go on your first official date after you became a couple? Ever planned any romantic surprises for each other?"

She had transformed into an inquisitive journalist, firing off questions one after another.

With every question Stella asked, Rachel could feel the atmosphere around Haynes grow colder and more forbidding. A thin sheen of sweat began to form on her forehead.

Stella was doing this on purpose-wasn't she?

If Stella had chosen to lash out, it would have been easy to dismiss her as petty and jealous. But instead, she was taking the opposite approach: prying into their past with a sweet smile, making herself the target of Haynes's displeasure.

It was a calculated move-Stella was deliberately making Haynes dislike her.

Rachel tried to dodge, her voice faltering. "Honestly... I don't really remember all those details from back then."

Stella tilted her head, feigning surprise. "But Ms. Pearce, you remember exactly how you first met Haynes. How could you forget something as important and meaningful as your first date or who held whose hand?"

She shot Haynes a sly, ambiguous look.

Stella went on with a faint, mocking smile. "But if you can't even remember such special moments, maybe all that talk about unforgettable love

expression flickered, caught between embarrassment and

details. If she said she didn't, Stella would throw her sincerity into question.

Rachel realized she was only making

me, I'm going to say hi to Keen. I'll catch up with you

retreat before things got any

tone breezy. "Of course. I'll be

shifted her attention to Keen. She spotted Joshua nearby and offered him a polite nod before turning to Keen. "Keen, you must be tired after all that archery practice. Want to take a break?" Keen was drawing his bow, aiming at

Rachel said gently, "Don't worry, Keen. You're

picked up another arrow and prepared to shoot again, concentrating hard. But as he

I know you can do

jerked, and the arrow veered

him water, dabbing his forehead with a towel-fussing over him more than any doting

of feeling cared

constantly interrupting, was starting to get

With

couldn't land a

put down the bow and looked at