Reclaimed By My Ex-husband
Chapter 33: Special soup

Chapter 33: Special soup

Zara was caught completely off guard. In all five years of their marriage, Nathaniel had never thanked her, not for a meal, not for her care, not for anything. For a second, she wasn’t even sure she had heard him right.

She blinked slowly, trying to process it.

Nathaniel walked further into the room, loosening his tie and shrugging off his suit jacket.

Zara quickly turned onto her side the moment she saw him unbuttoning his shirt, facing away from him. Her heart pounded in her chest.

"Don’t thank me," she muttered. "I didn’t do anything. If you are grateful to anyone, thank Mrs. Jules."

But he didn’t snap back. He didn’t sigh in annoyance or shut down. Instead, a faint, barely visible smile ghosted across his lips.

He had already thanked Mrs. Jules when he got home, but she had quickly told him the truth—Zara had sent the lunch.

He walked toward the closet, casually adding, "If you are feeling lonely here, I’ll bring Zane over tomorrow."

Zara’s eyes followed him as he disappeared into the walk-in closet. There was no tension in his voice, no sign of irritation.

Was he upset? She couldn’t read him.

For a brief second, her guard slipped. She felt the urge to get up, go to him, and ask if his stomach pain had eased. The concern rose in her throat.

But then she clenched her jaw and forced it back down.

’He is not my responsibility anymore,’ she reminded herself. ’Whatever happens to him, it’s not my concern.’

She shifted slightly on the bed, burying the urge with every ounce of will she had left.

After a while, Nathaniel stepped out of the closet. He stopped beside the bed, his gaze settling on Zara’s back.

She could feel the quiet intensity of his stare lingering on her. Her fingers gripped the pillow tightly, and she shut her eyes, feigning sleep, willing him to leave her alone.

But his voice came with that familiar chill. "I know you are not asleep. So stop pretending."

Zara’s eyes flew open. Fury flashed across her face as she whipped around to face him. "Yes," she snapped. "I am pretending. Because I’m ignoring you. Isn’t that obvious?"

Her bluntness struck something inside him. He didn’t show it, but it hit deep. A slow, uncomfortable pressure settled in his chest. He couldn’t name the feeling, but he didn’t like it.

It pressed down on him, heavy, unfamiliar, and suffocating.

’Is this what she felt all those times I ignored her?’ he wondered. ’This cold weight? This silence that suffocates?’

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at her speechlessly

He had expected something entirely different when he brought her back. He thought she’d fight at first, but then soften and agree to give a try to this marriage. But none of that happened.

The woman in front of him wasn’t giving in. Zara wasn’t melting under his words or cracking under his presence. She was standing her ground.

He had always seen her as gentle, quiet, and easy to sway. But this version of her, sharp-tongued, defiant, unyielding, was like a stranger.

And it gnawed at him.

Had he changed her that much? Was it his divorce proposal that pushed her over the edge? Or was something else going on?

He didn’t know. But for the first time, he was starting to realize that she wasn’t the same Zara he knew.

"I don’t want to be here," Zara said through clenched teeth, snapping Nathaniel out of his thoughts. Her voice was sharp, her glare even sharper. "Can you just let me go?"

He didn’t answer. Instead, he said flatly, "Dinner is ready. Let’s go eat."

And before she could protest, he moved closer and slipped one arm under her legs, the other behind her back, lifting her into his arms with ease.

’There it is again,’ she thought bitterly, rolling her eyes.

It was too familiar. When he didn’t want to address something, he either stayed silent or switched the subject. It was one of the things that had driven her crazy over the years.

’He hasn’t changed at all.’

"I can walk," she muttered. "Put me down."

Nathaniel glanced at her, a teasing glint in his eyes. "When I’m carrying you, just enjoy it."

That smirk that curled his lips slightly sent a flutter through her stomach, unwelcome but impossible to ignore. She stiffened slightly.

For the first time in their marriage, he was... flirting.

Zara’s cheeks turned a soft pink. Every instinct screamed at her to push him away, to not fall for his sudden tenderness. But instead, her body relaxed against him. Her head drifted closer to his shoulder, betraying the resistance her heart was struggling to hold onto.

Even as her mind screamed, ’Don’t trust him,’ her heart betrayed her with every quiet beat.

Mrs. Jules’s face lit up the moment she saw them enter the dining room, her grin stretching from ear to ear. "Sir, Madam, I’ve set the table. Please come," she said cheerfully, bustling forward to pull out a chair for Zara.

Her heart fluttered with anticipation. She had followed the old lady’s recipe exactly and was eager to serve the soup, excited to see what effect it would have.

Nathaniel gently set Zara down into the chair.

"Thank you, Mrs. Jules," Zara said, offering the housekeeper a grateful smile.

Mrs. Jules beamed. "I kept things light tonight. Just simple food. Hope it suits your appetite."

Zara glanced at the dishes on the table: soft, warm bread rolls, a bed of steamed greens glistening in light butter, and a mild rice dish laced with the subtle scent of ginger.

"This is perfect," she murmured, helping herself to some spinach and a modest scoop of rice.

Mrs. Jules stepped forward. "And this," she said with a twinkle in her eye, setting a bowl in front of Nathaniel, "is for you. Something special to calm your stomach. Old family recipe."

The soup shimmered golden in the bowl, releasing a soft aroma that was unfamiliar yet oddly comforting.

Nathaniel nodded at her and dipped his spoon in without a second thought. The flavor was earthy, slightly sweet, with a warmth that crept up slowly. He kept eating, not quite knowing why he wanted more.

Across the table, Zara’s eyes flicked briefly to the soup bowl, then back to her plate. She didn’t suspect anything out of the ordinary. To her, it was just another thoughtful dish from Mrs. Jules—nothing more.

But while the two of them ate in silence, a small, mischievous smile played at the corner of Mrs. Jules’s mouth as she slipped away. She took out her phone and texted the old lady of the Grant family.

’It’s done.’

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