Chapter 92 Chapter 92
Nicholas noticed her hesitation and gave her a loving pat on the top of her head, in a gesture of public adoration.
“Come on, choose.” And then he added, in a tone that left no room for doubt: “Order my food too.”
“Uh...”
Caroline froze. She glanced discreetly at Sheila.
The smile on the other woman's face had frozen, and her previously radiant skin was now pale with humiliation.
“But... didn't Sheila just order for you?” whispered Caroline, confused and honest. “I... I don't even know what you like, Nicholas.”
She felt that Nicholas was doing this on purpose. He hadn't said a word to Sheila since they entered. And now, he was delegating the choice of his meal to his inexperienced wife, rejecting the choice of his childhood friend.
It was a slap in the face without using his hands.
Nicholas smiled, a predatory and satisfied smile. He lifted Caroline's hand and kissed her knuckles, without taking his eyes off hers.
“Whatever you order, I'll eat.” His voice was firm, echoing in the silence of the room. “I like everything you choose for me. Other people's tastes... don't interest me anymore.”
With that sentence, Sheila's expression darkened completely, as if a storm cloud had hovered over her head.
But Nicholas wasn't finished yet.
Nicholas looked up from the menu for just a second, staring at Sheila with an indifference that cut deeper than a knife.
“People change, Sheila,” he said, his voice casual but loaded with definitive meaning. “That minced fish... I don't like the taste of it anymore. I've lost my appetite for it.”
Caroline held her breath.
The silence at the table was deafening.
Was he trying to make Sheila die of embarrassment?
This wasn't just a gastronomic refusal; it was a rejection of their entire shared past. It was awkward. Weren't they childhood friends? Did he have to be so brutal?
“Oh... really?” Sheila's voice faltered.
Under the table, her impeccably manicured nails dug into her palm, drawing crescent moons of pain. The smile on her face trembled, threatening to crumble.
“I thought... you still liked our traditions.”
It was painfully evident to everyone in the room: Nicholas was protecting Caroline. He was willing to rewrite his own history and tastes just to make sure his wife didn't feel left out.
At that moment, Sheila felt a toxic mixture of hurt and humiliation.
She had known Nicholas for over twenty years. She knew who he was: cold, distant, a man who treated feelings like unnecessary transactions. He never protected anyone.
She had always prided herself on being the woman “closest” to him, the only one he tolerated around him. She was the exception.
But this “special treatment” she thought she had... it was nothing. It was dust compared to the universe he offered this girl.
Nicholas had an aversion to touch. He instinctively recoiled from any woman.
But with Caroline? He touched her as if he were addicted to her. He defended her publicly, trampling on etiquette and friendship.
He embarrassed her in front of his friends because of a girl he had met months ago.
Why? Why did he change so drastically after putting a ring on her finger?
“Sis-in-law!” Hiago's loud voice broke the somber mood. He realized Sheila was about to cry and desperately tried to save the evening. “Nicholas is right, his taste is really weird. Order whatever you want! I'm paying today.”
Hiago patted his chest, forcing a smile. “Just look at the expensive dishes and forget about the cheap ones. If you order something cheap, you'll offend me! I'm rich today!”
Caroline noticed Hiago's effort and decided to help ease the tension. “Um, hahaha... okay, then.” She forced a light laugh. “Get your wallet ready, I'm not going to go easy on you.”
With that, she buried her face in the menu, using it as a shield against Sheila's hurt gaze.
Caroline ordered a few random dishes, trying to be quick.
When she was done, Nicholas, who had been watching her every move, gently took the menu from her hands. He didn't hand it to the waiter right away. Instead, he turned the page to the dessert section.
“What about ice cream?” Nicholas asked in a low, intimate tone, as if there were only the two of them in the room. “You love ice cream after meals, don't you?”
Caroline blinked in surprise. She had never explicitly told him that; he must have observed it during some casual dinner.
“Strawberry, right?” he added with a smirk.
Caroline's heart skipped a beat. “... Of course.”
Sheila, sitting across the table, felt as if she had been shot.
That detail... the strawberry ice cream... was the last straw.
He remembered his wife's favorite flavor, but “forgot” the dish he had eaten with Sheila for years.
“Excuse me.”
Sheila stood up abruptly, the chair scraping across the floor with a harsh noise.
“I need to go to the bathroom.” Her voice was strangled.
Without waiting for a response, she grabbed her purse and left the private room almost running, unable to keep up the facade for another second.
Hiago sighed, watching the door close, and shook his head.
He feared that things would never be the same again. The group had changed.
In the past, Nicholas' coldness was universal. Sheila could handle the rejection because he rejected everyone. It was democratic.
But now...
He was married. And worse, he was in love.
Seeing Nicholas pamper Caroline was torture for Sheila, who had harbored hopes for over a decade. Hiago thought to himself that it would be better to avoid these meetings in the future. Otherwise, someone would get very hurt.