[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":10},["ShallowReactive",2],{"viewer-data-2603220ECDF1-618":3},{"id":4,"number":5,"name":6,"content":7,"isLocked":8,"price":9,"hasRead":8},618,60,"Chapter 60: The Double Takeout Bag","\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\u003Cchapter_title>\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The Double Takeout Bag\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\u003C/chapter_title>\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\u003Ctranslation>\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The thing she dreaded most, predictably, happened.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette Ellis called Blake Pierce on her way home. He seemed surgically attached to his phone; it connected in less than a second. The line was a chaotic blur of ambient noise—a frantic mix of human chatter and wind.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He didn't speak. His breathing was lost in the gusty static, as if he feared this call was a mistake and the slightest sound would send Violette slamming the phone down. For those few hollow seconds, she heard only the distant clatter of a tennis racket being adjusted in the background.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She said, \"Hello?\" again.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Blake finally snapped out of his daze. \"It’s me.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"I have something to ask you,\" Violette said.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Someone approached him to borrow a racket. Normally, Blake wouldn't let a soul lay a finger on his equipment, but today, he just leaned his shoulder against the phone, tilting his head while he fished a spare training racket out of his bag and shoved it toward the stranger. \"Use it with care,\" he muttered.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"I know, I know—your precious baby!\" the other man laughed.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Blake grunted, gripped the phone with his freed hand, and strode toward the edge of the court. Away from the wind, the call cleared up, the night air settling around his voice. \"Is this about me moving?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">His bluntness caught her off guard. She flicked her turn signal, weaving through traffic, while his voice poured through the car’s Bluetooth speakers. \"If I told you I didn't know you lived there before I moved in, would that sound fake?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Yes,\" Violette replied.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Then I’ll just admit it. I bought the unit downstairs.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Why?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Blake looked up at the moon. \"You know my grandmother has weak lungs. The climate in Deepwater is humid, the winters aren't freezing—it’s perfect for her recovery. The property is in her name, and every record is registered to her. I’m always away for tournaments. I rarely come back. No one would ever know.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette’s tone hardened. \"I asked you, *why?*\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He let out a bitter, dry laugh. \"What other reason could there be?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Traffic on the ring road was backed up, a snaking trail of red taillights. Violette stomped on the gas, then the brake, then the gas again, her frustration boiling over. She rhythmically tapped the steering wheel and repeated, \"Blake, I am a married woman.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"I know,\" Blake said. \"But the divorce rate is astronomical these days. That doesn't mean much.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Her tapping on the steering wheel grew erratic. *What was this?* He had been keeping his distance perfectly well before—and now, overnight, everything had changed.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Anyone who sees you moving in downstairs is going to think something is going on between us,\" Violette said. \"Are you just waiting for the explosion? Is the chaos the whole point?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Blake lowered his eyes, turning away from the moon. \"It’s only been a little while, and you’re already so obsessed with him? So fond of him that the law doesn't apply to anyone but your husband?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Before last night, Violette might have struggled to decipher that jab. But today, it hit her with surgical precision. She froze. \"You knew...\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">A car behind her honked, jolting her back. She realized she’d left a massive gap between her and the car ahead.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Yeah, I knew,\" Blake said. \"You’re the only one who couldn't see it. The way he looks at you—he hasn't spent a single second where he didn't want to possess you entirely.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette’s anger deflated as quickly as it had risen. The mountain of accusations she’d prepared suddenly felt pointless, a heavy, unswallowed lump in her throat. Because she *was* with Roman Griffin now, wasn't she? So why did she feel like an adulteress caught in the act?\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Darling,\" Blake said, \"you should know what fairness is.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He hung up, for the first time ever.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The lone streetlamp at the court flickered. Outside her window, the city pulse roared on, a river of red lights. Violette slammed her palm against the wheel. The sharp, dissonant blare of the horn cut through the street, and a driver in the next lane glanced over with a confused scowl. She took a deep breath, forced a tight, empty smile, and pushed forward.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The traffic eased as she turned off the main thoroughfare, but she didn't get home until 10:40 PM.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She checked her phone. The pinned chat with her husband was silent. Roman hadn't reached out once all day.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">With that realization, she pushed the front door open, expecting a dark house. Instead, the lights were blazing from the foyer to the living room, a bright, welcoming path as if they were waiting for her return.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Sunny Griffin, the cat, trotted over at the sound of her footsteps, weaving between her ankles with a rhythmic meow. Violette reached down to scoop her up, but the cat dodged, tail held high like a compass needle pointing the way.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette followed the cat deep into the house, finding Roman in the media room.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The scene felt like a ghost of a memory. On the projector screen, their wedding footage played on a loop. Amidst the cheers of the crowd, he slid the ring onto her lace-covered finger.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Whoo!\" A teenage boy’s voice cracked in the recording.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Kaisen Griffin’s voice cut over the rest: \"Kiss her! Just kiss her!\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The video paused there. Roman sat in the strobe of light from the projector, the overheads clicking on as he looked over. \"You're back.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Yeah.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Hungry?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Starving.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman killed the projector. As he walked past her, he took her hand, his touch effortless. \"I picked up some takeout.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette, desperate to mend the distance between them, squeezed his palm. \"Have you eaten yet?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"I already ate,\" he said.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He led her to the dining room and slipped into the kitchen. Violette found herself drawn to him, following like a magnet pulled to a different pole. Before she’d walked through the door, she had steeled her nerves, but watching his back as he methodically unpacked the food, she couldn't help it. She walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his back, wanting to finish the intimacy they’d left hanging the night before.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The moment her skin touched his, his muscles coiled tight beneath his shirt. Years of training had sculpted him with brutal, fluid precision. A deep furrow ran down his spine, a small valley that perfectly fit her fingertip.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She traced it, her touch light as a feather. \"What did you get me?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Roasted duck. Salt-and-pepper king crab.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman was stiff as he handled the containers. If she could see his face, she would see his throat bobbing as he fought for control.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The duck was crispy and golden; the crab, buried in breadcrumbs, was still succulent and hot. Violette caught the scent and stepped on her toes to look, surprised to see her favorite restaurant’s logo on the boxes. \"You just got back too? How is it still this hot?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Yeah. Only a few minutes before you.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman handed her a pair of chopsticks. \"Taste it?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He plucked a piece of crab, the shell pre-cracked, and fed it to her. The meat was sweet and firm. Violette closed her eyes in satisfaction. As she chewed, she watched him out of the corner of her eye.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">How did he do it? How did he switch so effortlessly between a predatory panther and the perfect, domestic husband?\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Her gaze drifted to the trash bin as he tossed a shell away. The housekeeper had cleaned it out during the day, but the bin was already overflowing again. She took two steps closer, squinting. Tucked neatly at the bottom were two other takeout containers from the exact same restaurant.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"What’s that?\" Violette asked, swallowing.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"You weren't home by nine, and I grew impatient,\" Roman said, his voice as calm as a summer breeze. \"So I went out and bought it fresh.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\u003Cnew_glossary>\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">[{\"zh\": \"影音室\", \"en\": \"media room\", \"type\": \"Location\"}, {\"zh\": \"保温盒\", \"en\": \"insulated food container\", \"type\": \"Item\"}]\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\u003C/new_glossary>\u003C/p>",false,0,1774272919128]