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As they both picked up their menus, neither could deny the sense of unease that had settled over their meeting. The once familiar dynamic between them now felt strained and awkward. She remembered their dating days, when they used to dine at similarly elegant establishments, whispering sweet nothings and making grand plans for their shared future. Back then, it seemed like nothing could ever tear them apart. Time had a way of eroding even the strongest of bonds, she mused, her heart heavy with a longing for something that could never be recaptured.
"Ah, here we are," Daniel interrupted her thoughts, his eyes lighting up as he scanned the wine list. "The Château Margaux 2005, an excellent choice if I do say so myself." He flashed a charming smile at Charlotte, the same smile that had once made her weak in the knees.
"Sure, why not," she replied nonchalantly. "Daniel, you really don't need to put on a show for me," she said, her tone light but firm. "Let's just have a nice dinner and discuss what we need to."
"Of course, Charlotte," he replied, his smile faltering slightly as he realized she wasn't going to be swayed by his attempts at grand gestures. "I just wanted us to enjoy a pleasant evening together, for old times' sake."
The waiter returned with the wine, uncorking it with a flourish before pouring a taste for Daniel to approve. He nodded, his eyes never leaving Charlotte's as he murmured his approval. The wine was poured, and they each took a sip, the deep, rich flavor dancing on their tongues.
"Exquisite, isn't it?" Daniel asked, the glint in his eye suggesting he was still trying to make her feel jealous or inferior. But Charlotte merely took another sip, appreciating the wine for what it was, not for the price tag attached to it.
"Indeed," she agreed, setting down her glass and meeting his gaze evenly. They each ordered their dinners, and when the waiter retreated, Charlotte sat back.
"Now, shall we get down to business?"
With a resigned sigh, Daniel leaned forward, ready to discuss the matters at hand. But then, the waiter returned to their table.
"Excuse me," he began, his voice smooth and professional, "I have wonderful news for you. Your meal has been comped this evening."
Both Charlotte and Daniel looked at him in surprise before exchanging a glance, the tension momentarily broken. Charlotte's heart skipped a beat as she suspected Thomas's interference. The annoyance bubbled within her, the corners of her lips tightening ever so slightly. She wondered if Thomas had done this simply to irritate her, or if he had some ulterior motive.
"Really?" Daniel asked, not hiding his excitement. "Well, that is quite generous of someone." His eyes twinkled as he looked at Charlotte, obviously pleased with this unexpected turn of events. "Seems like you've been making some high-class friends since moving to Chesham Cove, Charlotte."
Charlotte forced a laugh, not wanting to let Daniel know how much this bothered her. "It seems so," she replied, her voice light yet strained.
Daniel's eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity as he eagerly pressed on. "You really should introduce me to these new friends of yours, Charlotte. It could be beneficial for everyone involved, don't you think?"
Charlotte clenched her jaw, the weight of his words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She'd seen this behavior before—the insidious attempts to make her feel inferior, as if she needed him to navigate through life. But she was no longer that woman, and she refused to let him manipulate her like a pawn on his chessboard.
"Actually, Daniel," she began, her voice steady and firm, "I think it's best if we maintain our separate lives. After all, that's what we came here to discuss, isn't it?" Her brow furrowed as she met his gaze, her resolve shining through. “You’re avoiding it like store-brand cereal. Now, talk. Or I’m leaving.”
Daniel leaned forward, his lips pursed into a thin line. "Of course, Charlotte. I just thought—"
"Enough, Daniel." Charlotte held up her hand, silencing him. She took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill her lungs as she gathered her strength. "I'm not the same person I was in New York, and I won't let you make me feel small again. Now, do you have the papers with you now, or not?"
Daniel's expression faltered, his smug facade crumbling like the ancient walls of The Old Crown Inn. For a moment, he looked almost vulnerable, but then he quickly masked it with a dismissive chuckle. “You’re right, it was a pretense to invite you to dinner,” he said. "I have a room booked for tonight. Why don't you join me upstairs? We can... talk some more."
CHAPTER TWENTY
"Are you kidding me?" Charlotte responded, her tone guarded. He sat before her with empty hands, void of the divorce papers she had expected him to bring. The absence of those documents caused her stomach to twist into knots.
"Charlotte, I've missed you," Daniel began, leaning closer. "I came here because this whole Chesham Cove thing... it's not you. It's too much for you to handle."
She narrowed her eyes as he continued, "You belong in New York with Amelia and me. We can make this work. Just come home."
Temptation tugged at her heartstrings, threatening to unravel her. Yet, the memory of Simon's kind smile remained etched in her mind, reminding her of the possibility she was building in Chesham. The thought of abandoning it all felt like a betrayal to herself, but the pull toward her family was strong. Simon himself had been slow to tell her about his own romantic past—was she putting stock in someone who would ultimately turn out to also be wrong for her? There was conflict there, for sure.
"Daniel, I..." Charlotte faltered, her voice cracking under the weight of her conflicting emotions.
"Think about Amelia, Charlotte," he urged, his eyes pleading with her. "She needs her mother."
The mention of their daughter made Charlotte's heart ache even more so, but she knew that returning to her old life would leave a gaping void in her soul.
"Let me help you. Let us be a family again."
His words swirled in her mind like leaves caught in a whirlwind, leaving her breathless and disoriented. For a moment, she considered his offer, imagining herself back in New York surrounded by her family. It was a tempting vision, but underneath it all, she couldn't ignore the nagging sense of unfulfilled dreams and stifled passions.
“I’m happy here, Daniel,” she insisted, taking a swallow of wine for courage. “I can paint here. I can live without feeling belittled. You’re the one who left me—and I was and am now free to choose where I am and with whom. Amelia is in school, and the fact that you’re using her as an emotional pawn…”
