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.

Pearce was hopelessly devoted to Mr. O'Brien," 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 is just empty

flickered, caught between embarrassment and

for more details. If she said she didn't, Stella would throw her sincerity into question. No matter what she

realized she was only making

and she forced a smile. "Excuse me, I'm going

decided to retreat before

her tone breezy. "Of course. I'll be waiting to hear more

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 the target. At Rachel's words, he lost focus -the

Rachel said gently, "Don't worry, Keen. You're just starting out. Take your time-there's no

again, concentrating hard. But as he was about to release, Rachel

Keen! I know

jerked, and the arrow

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

instead of feeling cared

was starting

With

couldn't land a

the bow and looked