Chapter 10

Diana had never kissed anyone before. This was her first time. She could feel the warmth from Vincent. It was hot and intense, and his heartbeat was thundering like a drum in her ears. Fireworks bloomed across the distant sky, but at that moment, they only had eyes for each other. Her dream then shifted to the second winter they got together. On New Year's Eve, she gave Vincent a scarf she had knitted. He was overjoyed and spun her around in his arms. Then, he crouched down in front of her, looking up with a gaze so full of affection that it made her heart skip a beat. "Diana, will you put it on for me?" he asked. She later found out that Vincent had worn that scarf straight into a crowd of young socialites and showed it off like a prized treasure. When she heard about it, she couldn't stop laughing. He had a heart full of affection, and it melted her whole world. For Diana, there would only ever be one person in her life. It was Vincent. It had always been him. … When Diana woke, the sky outside was already turning pale with the first hints of dawn. She sat up and reached for her pillow, only to find it damp. Her fingers were wet with tears. Maybe it was Jason's words that had pulled her back to the past, when she and Vincent had been so deeply in love. Was she really ready to walk away from that without a fight? She threw off the covers and got out of bed. It was time to face the day. As she made her way downstairs, Maria quickly approached her. "Mrs. Hendrix, Mr. Hendrix came home late last night," she said. Vincent came back? Diana blinked. Jason must've been the one to step in. And ever since Jason had spoken to her, something started to change inside her, too. The desire to change had been growing. With that thought in mind, she turned toward the kitchen. "Are you cooking breakfast for Mr. Hendrix yourself today?" Maria asked with a hopeful smile. Maria had always wished for Diana and Vincent to reconcile and to return to the affectionate, harmonious life they used to share. That was how things had always been until the accident three years ago. None of this would've happened if not for Gabriella. She threw herself at a married man. How shameless could she possibly be? Diana stayed in the kitchen for a long time. She had never really learned to cook. Even now, all she could manage was a simple stew. Socialites like her, born with a silver spoon and sheltered lives, never had to lift a finger in the kitchen. Their days were filled with school, etiquette lessons, and social events. Cooking just wasn't something socialites were expected to do when they had maids and staff at their beck and call. Diana still remembered the surprised look in Vincent's eyes when she cooked stew for him for the first time after she made an effort to learn a little. All she wanted now was to get that feeling back. She heard footsteps on the stairs and turned to see Vincent coming down with a frown. It seemed like Jason had forced Vincent to return last night, and he wasn't happy about it. Judging by the faint shadows under his eyes, it seemed like he hadn't gotten much rest the night before because of the sudden decision. Hendrix Villa was never very lively. Aside from Maria, there were rarely other staff around. But now, with Vincent's cold silence settling into the already quiet space, the air felt even more tense. He walked over to the dining table and sat down with a cold expression, seemingly unapproachable. His look was so serious as though the whole universe had wronged him. His gaze landed on the bowl of stew. He picked up a spoon and took a sip. To his surprise, it was warm and soothing, subtly sweet, and oddly familiar. He wondered where he had tasted this before. "Hmm? This stew's really good. Nice job, Maria," Vincent said, nodding with genuine approval. Maria smiled and quickly waved her hands. "Mr. Hendrix, this stew was made personally by Mrs. Hendrix for you." As soon as she said that, the room fell into silence. Vincent was caught off guard. Just then, Diana walked over, taking off her apron. Vincent looked up, and their eyes met. Diana had no makeup on and only wore a simple light blue dress that cinched at her waist, accentuating her delicate figure. She was still breathtakingly beautiful. She looked composed, aloof, and gentle. She reminded him of a lily—elegant and graceful, carrying a subtle, calming scent. Suddenly, something seemed to hit Vincent. Why did the stew taste so familiar? Because it was the same stew Diana had made for him a long time ago. Old memories stirred to life, washing over him in a sudden wave. He stared at her, and something loosened in his chest. "You didn't have to cook. Maria could've handled it." It sounded like he was complaining, but the warmth behind the words gave him away. First loves were hard to forget, especially when Diana had become his wife. Initially, he had promised Gabriella that he would visit her in the morning. They had already spoken on the phone as soon as they woke up. Gabriella had been choking up, seemingly upset. She had been sobbing because she felt insecure. His heart had ached for her. But now, he suddenly thought there was no need to hurry. A faint smile tugged at his lips, softening his sharp features. He glanced at Diana and said, "It's good." Diana moved to the table and sat down. "I'm glad you like it." The divorce papers were hidden deep in a locked cabinet. Jason's words had shaken her, but more than that, this was her final effort to hold on. She planned to give their relationship one last chance and one last try. That was all she would give. "Vincent, are you free today?" Diana asked. There was a charity gala that afternoon hosted by the Scott family. As one of the most prominent families in society, the Hendrix family was expected to show up every year, without fail. Nearly every notable figure in Heyton would have been in attendance. It was a fundraiser, but also a social battleground. Vincent hadn't planned on going. He was supposed to stay with Gabriella, the gentle, fragile woman who needed constant reassurance. Diana was poised and gracious. She always carried herself with quiet dignity, and she never embarrassed him or the Hendrix family. She knew how to handle herself, and she handled it all with elegance. They had been married for years but had no children. She was afraid of childbirth, and so he had made peace with the idea of never being a father. Thus, there wasn't much for Diana to worry about. All Vincent expected was for her to live comfortably as his wife, to represent the family when it mattered, and nothing more. And that was exactly why he often felt like he owed Gabriella more. Vincent looked into Diana's gleaming eyes and felt something stir in him. Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out. "I'll go with you this afternoon." Her eyes lit up, and for the first time in a long while, she smiled. It was bright and warm. "The stew was amazing. Thank you," he said before finishing the last drop in his bowl. A faint blush rose to Diana's cheeks. "If you like it, I can make it for you every day. Would you like that?" It wasn't just about the stew. It was about him coming home every day, and she would wait for him. It was only natural for a wife to want her husband by her side. However, Vincent seemed to think of something, and his smile faltered. And just like that, Diana's heart clenched.