
Love Lost in Deceit
Chapter 3
Maximiliano dragged me firmly into a private room. Today was his birthday.
He usually preferred peace and quiet, and in the past, I'd always celebrated his birthday with him at home. But today was different; we weren't alone anymore, and the celebration was held at an exclusive club.
After sitting down, Maximiliano pulled Amayah Evans into his arms. She nestled against him calmly, like a gentle kitten. He lightly tapped her back while keeping his eyes fixed on me. I kept my head lowered, hands tightly gripping the hem of my vintage-style dress.
"Maximiliano, you're planning to get engaged next month, right?" Emmanuel Vargas asked, raising his wine glass deliberately.
The atmosphere suddenly became heavy. The silence was so deep that I could hear my own heartbeat. Maximiliano nodded quietly before reaching out towards me. Confused, I met his eyes.
His brows furrowed in displeasure. "Maya, do you know what today is?"
I lowered my gaze, clutching the box in my hands. "I... I forgot."
I was lying, though. I remembered his birthday and had even bought a gift. I'd gone to great lengths to find it, excited to give it to him—until I heard him speak of me. Fear gripped me, and I no longer dared to expect anything.
Maximiliano's expression darkened. "Maya, you're so ungrateful. After everything I've done for you all these years, you show no gratitude."
"Maybe I should let you go; if I can't teach you, life will."
His words made me lower my eyes with a bitter smile. Amayah's gaze was filled with pity. My heart ached fiercely, and I abruptly stood to leave.
Only after fleeing the club and tossing the box into a nearby trash bin did I finally exhale. My sudden departure was surely a misstep in Maximiliano's eyes. I expected him to call and criticize me for my lack of manners.
Yet, he sent a text apologizing for his earlier behavior and mentioned he'd come home early to enjoy the Thanksgiving turkey I promised to make. Apparently, it was time for me to prepare it.
I was a bit taken aback, confused by his sudden humility. When things were better between us, I often talked about making him a perfect Thanksgiving turkey for his special day. Born with no culinary talent, I'd burned countless pots trying. For this particular dish, I even paid to learn from a chef for three months.
Now, I could actually make a delicious turkey, yet I had no desire to do it for him.
I pocketed my phone with a self-mocking smile. I had no intention of cooking for him or returning home. Instead, I went to a small bar that Maximiliano had once forbidden me to visit and ordered every drink on the menu.
Ahmir Carr, the bartender, was stunned, confirming repeatedly, "Ma'am, are you sure? Mixing drinks can easily get you drunk."
I nodded, generously tipping him. After a few drinks, my mind grew hazy. Then I felt myself being lifted, but I was too exhausted to investigate before falling asleep.
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