Ellen sat across from Edrick in the spacious living room. She watched Edrick as he lifted the delicate porcelain cup to his lips, taking a careful sip of the tea she had prepared. She couldn't help but feel an odd sense of detachment as she looked at him, her mind drifting to their past conversation at Gerald's parents' anniversary party. The memory was still vivid—Edrick's sincere expression as he proposed to rescue her from the marriage. God, she had been caught off guard back then, and even now.
Edrick cleared his throat, his eyes meeting hers over the rim of the cup. "This tastes different from what you usually make."
She gave a small smile that didn't really reach her eyes.
"Does it?" she replied softly. Of course, it tasted different. The tea he was drinking now wasn't made by Ellen Winters but her.