Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 206

Romantic?

Did she not want romance?

Who hasn’t been a little girl in love, hoping to be romantic for the person she cares about most?

How many times had she tried to create a life and a home filled with warmth and affection, only to have him shut her down with his indifference? And now he was saying she wasn’t romantic?

“Maybe... my idea of romance is just different from yours,” she said as she opened the cabinet and took out a box of pasta. “Have you eaten yet?”

He strode over and snatched the pasta from her hands. “I told you, I was picking you up for dinner tonight. I made reservations and everything.”

Was that so? Emma tried to remember—yes, he had mentioned it.

“You didn’t forget, did you?” His tone sharpened, brows drawn. “You never seem to remember what I say. What’s going on in your head all day?”

Emma shot him a sidelong glance, biting back the words she really wanted to say: plotting how to divorce you.

“What’s with that look? Are you upset with me now?” He misunderstood, switched off the stove, and said, “Come on, go get changed. We’re going out to eat.”

Fine.

Emma thought, Maybe I’ll just treat this as the last supper.

Theodore had booked a table at a new Japanese restaurant—a surprise, given how much he preferred strong, heavy flavors. Japanese food was too light for him, and he never touched anything raw. She herself rarely ate sashimi either.

“It just opened. Let’s try it,” he said, leading her into a spacious private room with tatami mats. Just the two of them.

A waiter arrived with the menus and told them about the opening special set menus.

“We’ll manage,” he replied breezily. “Anything else you want to add?”

Emma shook her head. It was already over the top. She didn’t even want dessert anymore. But then, a thought struck her. She looked at Theodore. “Did you invite someone else?”

He smiled, just a little. “Originally, it was just us. But as we were leaving, I remembered Cici loves Japanese food, so I invited everyone.”

Emma’s eyes turned cold. “What do you mean, ‘also loves Japanese food’? Neither of us is into it.”

It’d always been Cecilia who liked this stuff—since when was this a spur-of-the-moment thought?

“The food doesn’t matter, right? What matters is everyone getting together.” Theodore reached across the table and took her hand. “Don’t be mad, okay? I should have told you sooner, but I knew if I did, you wouldn’t have come.”

“No, Theodore. When have I ever stopped you and Cecilia from having dinner together? If you two want to eat, go ahead—why drag me into it?”