Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 168

Daniel’s voice carried a hint of disappointment, though it wasn’t obvious through the phone. “Alright, you must be tired after walking around all day. Next time, we’ll just have the same thing.”

There is no next time.

Daniel, there really won’t be a next time for us.

Amelia ended the call, leaning against the kitchen counter to collect herself. After a moment, she switched off the stove, pulled on her gloves, and swept all the carefully prepared ingredients straight into the trash.

An hour spent preparing dinner—gone in five minutes.

When she finished cleaning up, she noticed an onion left behind. She picked it up, ready to toss it, but on a whim, brought it to her nose.

The sharp, biting scent stung her nostrils, so intense her eyes watered uncontrollably. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

A vintage, wood-paneled private dining room.

A middle-aged man in formal military dress, calm and imposing, watched as Daniel hung up and walked over. “You’ve really acted recklessly this time,” he said. “Ian holds a cabinet post—if you push him too far, aren’t you worried he’ll drag you down with him?”

“That’s what I have you for.” Daniel poured him a glass of wine. There were probably only three people in the world Daniel would serve personally; it said plenty about the man’s status.

“Thank you for everything, Mr. Hamilton. Meeting you has been the greatest honor of my life.”

Mr. Hamilton snorted. “You’re all talk. If it’s such an honor, why’d you dodge dinner with me today?”

“I wasn’t dodging you. It just so happened my wife was planning to cook for me tonight. She asked me to come home for dinner.”

Mr. Hamilton chuckled, shaking his head. “Look at you, lording it over the rest of us just because you have a wife.”

Daniel couldn’t hide his pride—he didn’t even try. “Well, I do have a lovely wife. I’m not doomed to bachelorhood.”

Zachary asked, “What’s wrong?”

Sophia glared at the pair across the hall, seething. “That bastard!”

Amelia was lying quietly in bed, staring at the ceiling when Sophia’s call came through. Her mind was blank—yet full—lost somewhere between thinking of everything and nothing at all. Lately, that seemed to be her permanent state.

“Amelia, is that cheating bastard home?” Sophia’s voice crackled with fury.

Amelia snapped back to reality. “No… Why are you suddenly asking about him?”

“Me? Worried about him? I’d like to wring his neck! Do you know where he is? He’s out having dinner—with Violet!”

Sophia’s anger was palpable, even through the phone. “And you were home, making dinner for that jerk—worrying about his tastes, what he likes. Does he even deserve it? He can eat dirt, for all I care!”