Chapter 150 Alexander

Chapter 150 Talia
Amber marked the date on her private calendar, circling it three weeks ahead. It had become an habit for years. 

Their fifth anniversary wasn’t a celebration to her. It was a test. Carefully set up. 

She wanted to watch Archer when he had every chance to do the right thing. To show up. To remember. To choose her.

On Tuesday morning, Amber called her PA on Social Welfare, Aurelio, herself to book the table.

Table seven, the same corner they had sat in on their first date at Garland Food, here Archer had ordered for both of them. He was sweet, gentle and caring. They say first impression matters and it was this first impression which got her saying ‘yes’ to him. Little did she know he was a married man.

Fuckkkk. 

She bashed her forehead as she thought of this. 

She had mistaken his calm for gentlemanly traits. 

“Seven-thirty. Two seats,” she said calmly. She gave her name, confirmed the reservation with a card deposit, and ended the call.

She didn’t mention the reservation to Archer at all.

She had to do her last check. Whether he would remember on his own, without being led there.

Just as expected, he didn’t remember.

Three days before the anniversary, he casually mentioned a board meeting scheduled for that evening. Amber simply nodded and said nothing.

Two days before, he brought it up again, confirming the same plan. She didn’t object. She just listened and uttered, “Okay.”

That morning, she placed a single card on his side of the bathroom sink. A plain cream envelope with his name on it.

Inside was a simple line: Five years. Garland Food. Seven-thirty.

She dressed for work as usual, and left the house before he stepped out of the shower.

The boutique stayed busy that afternoon, one private styling appointment, two walk-ins, and a new season delivery that needed to be unpacked and logged immediately. 

Amber moved through all of it at her usual pace, calm and focused. Nothing skipped her attention.

At 4:53, her phone vibrated on the counter.

She looked down at the screen. Archer.

She didn’t pick up immediately. She let it ring once… twice… before finally answering.

“Hey,” his voice came through, like he got no care in the world. “Listen, the board prep ran longer than expected, and now we’re pushing into a working dinner. I’m not going to make seven-thirty.”

For a moment, there was nothing on her end, no response, no sound at all.

“Amber?” he added after the silence lingered.

“I have heard you,” she said.

“We can reschedule for the weekend,” he said smoothly. “Garland Food can hold a table for us. I’ll have my assistant call and sort it out.”

There was no pause after that. No apology. No recognition of the date. Not even a carefully staged moment of regret, the kind that would at least soothe his wife. 

“Of course,” Amber said. “Have a good dinner.”

She ended the call. “Who celebrates marriage anniversary at a later date. If at all anything, why didn't he push the work dinner forward.” 

Her heart burnt in rage. She knew he was doing this on purpose. He was going to dine with his woman. Celine. 

Darla, who had been pretending to sort through a drawer a few feet away, looked up immediately. “He’s not coming?”

“He’s not coming,” Amber replied, her voice raised. 

“Do you want me to…”

Amber cut in, already reaching for her jacket. “I’ll drive myself.”

She arrived at Garland Food at 7:s25 wearing her open back black dress, the one Archer had once told her made her look like she owned the room. Tonight, she wore it for herself. Not for him. She owned her whole. 

She was shown to table seven. She took her seat, placed her bag beside her, and ordered sparkling water without hesitation.

Then she scrolled through the menu placed in front of her. 

Around her were mostly couples leaning into each other, chatting, laughing, kissing, life moving in easy pairs. 

She gulped, zoning out for a moment before quickly regaining her composure. 

She ordered the sea bass and a glass of Barolo. A wine was given to her to hold herself while waiting. 

She was halfway through the wine when she saw them.

She sat up, gulping. 

Archer and Celine. 

“What are they doing here?” She wondered. 

They were sitting on the other side of the restaurant, partly hidden by a divider, close enough that she could see them without effort, but far enough that they weren’t paying attention to anyone else.

Her hand held her cheek as she stared, eyes narrowed. She snapped her fingers, confirming it. 

Archer is aware of her presence. 

He knew she had booked here, at this time and decided to bring his secret woman here. 

He wore a charcoal dinner jacket, not the one he used for board meetings. His most expensive. The one he saved for occasions that mattered.

On the table between them sat a low arrangement of red roses. It wasn't the usual restaurant flowers, but totally different ones.

Amber’s hand remained steady on the table, fingers relaxed, she was speechless.

What his aim was lingered next in her mind. 

She lifted her wine glass and took a slow sip, keeping her gaze forward. She did not turn her head. She did not look away either.

She was set at taking every notable record. 

Across the room, Archer leaned in toward Celine, speaking close to her ear, his attention fully there, far from the table he had promised to be at, far from the woman sitting alone at table seven.

Celine laughed softly, tilting her head back for a moment, her hand lifting to his jaw. 

Archer caught her hand and turned it gently, pressing his lips to her palm, slowly.

Then he leaned back in his chair, still holding her hand across the table, watching her with so much love and a sweet smile.  

The kind of look Amber had not received in years, she had earnestly craved for this but never got it. 

Next, she reached into her clutch and took out her phone.

She adjusted her grip, setting the angle to capture clearly. From where she sat, she had a clear, unobstructed view of their table.

She took three photographs. Clear ones. Then she switched to video.

She was expecting it. 

Archer stood first, then reached for Celine. She took his hand and rose with him, her fitted red dress catching the soft restaurant lighting as she moved.

He guided her away from the table, one hand settling on her waist. Her eyes grew darker. She watched, trailing them. They passed within a few feet of Amber’s table.

She kept her phone lowered just enough to stay unnoticed, the camera still running.

Archer didn’t see her. Or pretended like he didn't. 

All of his attention was on Celine, desire beamed from his eyes. He laughed at something she said, before reaching for the door. He held it open for her and followed her out into the night, like a man who had nothing to hide and no reason to look back.

She watched the door close behind them. Loneliness swallowed her up for what seemed like eternity. 

He didn't come direct to tell her, but was doing this? 

What did he expect her to do? 

Amber remained there for three more seconds before rose, lifted her clutch, and followed after them. 

She'd already paid for the meal, the stipulated advance pay. Seeing the waiter from afar, she made a sign of leaving to him. 

Stepping outside, Amber beside the entrance door, behind the flowers. 

A valet had already brought a car to the curb, but it wasn’t one she recognized. It sat under the restaurant lights like it had been positioned for display.