Chapter 67: His mood swings are words them mine
For a moment, Anna thought she misheard him. But when Daniel continued to watch her with those unflinching eyes, she leaned forward, lips parting.
"How about div—"
"Pass." His interruption was swift, cutting her off before she could even finish. "You don’t have to say anything. I’ll figure it out on my own."
Anna sneered, mumbling something sharp under her breath that Daniel couldn’t catch—but the way her lips curled told him it was a curse.
"Still," she said louder, chin raised defiantly, "I won’t forgive you."
Daniel didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he turned his head, giving the waiter their order as if she hadn’t spoken at all.
"You’ve been visiting your parents a lot lately," he said casually once the waiter left. "Is something bothering you in that house?"
"You," she muttered flatly.
His eyes snapped back to hers, dark and cutting.
"You’ll need to get used to it, Anna," he said, voice cool as steel. "Because you’ll be spending the rest of your life with me."
Anna nearly choked on her own spit. "You dream too much, Daniel. But fine—if telling yourself lies helps you sleep at night, go ahead. Just don’t expect me to play along."
The air between them crackled with heat as they glared, eyes locked like dueling swords. Daniel had wanted to soften things between them after the morning’s chaos, but instead her stubborn tongue kept flinging that cursed word—divorce.
The waiter returned, breaking the tension as he placed steaming dishes on the table.
The aroma instantly stole Anna’s focus. Her eyes widened, her stomach betraying her with a growl. She stared at the food like a starving child at a feast.
Fine. I’ll forgive him temporarily—for the food.
Daniel’s lips curved into the faintest smile. He’d learned one thing about Anna: the surest path to her heart was through her stomach. And if he had to keep her fed to make her drop her defenses, so be it.
"Thank you," Daniel said to the waiter, who bowed and left. Then, turning back to Anna, his gaze softened just a little. "Eat as much as you want."
Her trance broke, and she straightened quickly, pretending indifference. "Do you want my stomach to burst?"
"Hmm." Daniel tapped his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Then maybe I should ask the waiter to take your plate away. You must be full already."
Her eyes went wide in horror. "Wait—don’t you dare."
A flicker of amusement lit his expression as she scrambled. "I’m only eating because you told me to," she muttered defensively, grabbing her fork. "Don’t think I enjoy wasting food."
Then, without waiting another second, she dived into the plate, twirling pasta with practiced ease.
Daniel leaned back, watching her with quiet satisfaction. She wasn’t picky with food, but he remembered: pasta had always been her weakness.
Throughout lunch, Daniel kept sneaking glances at Anna, making sure she ate to her heart’s content. He never thought his wife had such a peculiar habit of devouring spicy food, but the way she happily cleared her plate confirmed it. He still remembered the time she’d cooked something so fiery it nearly burned his tongue off—yet she ate it like candy.
By the time they finished and stepped out of the restaurant, Henry was already waiting near the car.
Anna straightened, finally relieved that the awkward lunch was over. Just as she prepared to excuse herself, Daniel’s deep voice cut through her thoughts.
"Get in the car. We’re going home."
Anna froze mid-step, blinking at him in disbelief.’Home? Shouldn’t he be heading back to his office?’
"Boss, aren’t you coming back to the company?" Henry asked, equally thrown off by the sudden change in plans.
"No," Daniel replied coolly. "I’ll be working from home. Make sure everything at the office is handled."
Henry bowed quickly. "Yes, Boss." With that, he stepped aside, and Daniel slid into the backseat beside Anna.
The moment he settled in, Anna turned to him, frowning. "I thought you’d be going back to work."
His gaze shifted toward her, calm but sharp. "Why? So you can run off wherever you please?"
Anna sneered, pulling back into her seat. "Why do I get the feeling you lied earlier about not stalking me? You keep circling back to the same topic like a broken record." Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Daniel didn’t flinch. "Then tell me what you’re hiding, and maybe I’ll stop."
The bluntness of his words landed like a slap, leaving her momentarily speechless.
Finally, she let out a scoff, shaking her head. "Ridiculous. I’m not hiding anything from you, Daniel. Stop twisting words to your convenience."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips. He didn’t push further, simply watching her simmer until she fell quiet.
Suddenly, Anna’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, expecting a random notification, only to see Ethan’s name flashing on the screen.
’Has your hand healed?’
Anna blinked at the message before glancing down at her palm. The faint scar was barely visible now. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she typed back, ’It healed a long time ago.’
There was a subtle glint in her eyes—amusement, maybe even surprise—that Ethan had decided to check on her now that he had her number. But her brief warmth froze the instant she felt a chill crawl up her spine.
"Ah... why do I suddenly feel cold?" she muttered under her breath, shrinking into her seat. Slowly, she turned her head—only to find Daniel’s gaze fixed squarely on her.
His eyes, sharp and unreadable, bored into her as if she’d just committed a crime.
What in the world is wrong with him now? Why is he looking at me like I’ve made some mistake?
Daniel, however, didn’t blink. He had caught the name flashing on her screen—Ethan. Of all people.
"You seem more invested in your phone than being with me," he said suddenly, his voice carrying a weight that made Anna’s brows shoot up.
What kind of nonsense is this?
"W-who said I want to be with you?" she stammered, frowning. "You can do whatever you want. Don’t drag me into it."
She had no idea when using her phone became such a problem.
Daniel’s jaw tightened, his expression turning darker by the second. He wanted to snatch the phone out of her hands, delete that message, erase Ethan’s name entirely—but instead, he forced his gaze away, his voice clipped.
"Fine. Do whatever you want."
Anna stared at him in disbelief, lips parting. Why does it feel like he’s personally targeting me just for replying to Ethan?
But Daniel himself couldn’t understand the storm brewing inside him. She could talk to anyone, and yet... the thought of her being comfortable enough to chat with Ethan while sitting right beside him clawed at his pride. It made him feel like he was losing without even knowing the game.
By the time the car pulled up at Clafford Estate, Anna was quick to step out, desperate to shake off the awkward tension. She turned back, surprised to see Daniel still seated inside.
"Aren’t you coming in? I thought you said you’d be working from home," she asked cautiously.
His eyes flickered once—cold, unreadable. "No."
The door shut before she could say anything more, and the car rolled away, leaving Anna rooted to the spot, utterly bewildered.
’What’s wrong with this man? First, he drags me to lunch, then sulks like a child. Now he drives off without a word?’
She shook her head, exhaling sharply, "His mood swings are worse then mine"