Rachel's chest rose and fell, fury and heartbreak boiling together. "Why would you do that?" Her voice was shaky.

"Because," Marissa said calmly, "Bryce doesn't need your food. He needs me, the mother of his child." She rubbed her stomach, lip twisting. "You should get used to it."

Rachel took a step forward, "You have no right to destroy what I create in my own home."

Marissa scoffed, "Your home? Sweetheart, that title is slipping away. You heard Evangeline yesterday, you are stopping the progress of this family."

Rachel clenched her jaw so hard it hurt. "You can insult me, Marissa. But you don't get to ruin everything I do. What is your problem?"

Marissa laughed. "My problem? My problem is you." She snapped. "Why do you think Bryce stayed with me last night? Why do you think he kissed my stomach before he left this morning? Because he loves me...but you- you're a hindrance!"

Marissa tilted her head, voice soft but lethal. "Just get over this annoying love story. Bryce would not look at you... not anymore."

The kitchen door opened again, this time Bryce stood there. Rachel turned instantly, hope flickering but Bryce didn't even look at her first. He looked at Marissa.

Marissa walked towards him swiftly, her expression changing to a fragile innocence. "Bryce..." she whispered. "I'm sorry, Rachel got upset and-"

Rachel's eyes widened. "Bryce, she destroyed the food!"

Marissa gasped, clutching her belly with a wobble. "I just tried to help. I touched the plate and it fell. I didn't think she would yell at me."

Bryce stepped towards Marissa instinctively, supporting her arm. "Careful. You shouldn't strain yourself."

Marissa leaned into him, "I think the stress isn't good for the baby."

Bryce finally looked at Rachel, "Rachel...please. Don't shout in front of her, she's pregnant."

Those words burned like acid. "I wasn't shouting," she said, voice trembling. "She smashed the plate on purpose. As far as I know, pregnancy allergies do not reach the extent of destroying food."

Marissa sniffed. "I did not mean any harm. Bryce, you don't have to stay here; we can eat out, I suddenly don't feel comfortable in this kitchen. Let's go, baby."

Bryce hesitated...only for a second, then he nodded and led Marissa out. Rachel stood alone in the kitchen, staring at the meal she made, unwanted and wasted.

When she married Bryce, he was head over heels for her meals, but now... Rachel closed her eyes as a quiet wave of pain tightened her chest.

"Never thought a liability would be here," Evangeline stepped inside the kitchen. "Pained that my son chose an asset over her."

Rachel forced a small smile, "Good morning, mother."

Evangeline glanced around the room as if inspecting it for dust. "Marissa is feeling nauseous this morning. Bryce wants ginger tea brought to their room."

Rachel forced a small nod, "I can prepare it."

Evangeline raised a brow. "No. I've instructed the staff. Marissa prefers things done in a certain way for the baby's sake. Stay out of sight."

Rachel's hands clenched. "Of course," she said quietly and Evangeline left without another word.

Rachel's phone buzzed. She searched for it in her apron, when she found it she swiped the answer button.

"Hello?"

"Rachel!" Elara said from the other end, "Happy birthday! Guess what, I ordered an exclusive VIP booth for the both of us in Russell restaurant."

Rachel's eyes widened. Today was her birthday? She checked the date on the calendar that hung on the kitchen wall. July 17th...it was really her birthday. And she didn't remember...no one remembered, apart from Elara.

"Rachel?" Elara asked curiously.

"I'm here. Thank you so much Elara. I'm so grateful. Should I stop by your place?" Rachel asked as tears clouded her eyes.

"Yes. No need to put on some expensive or flashy clothes. I bought clothes and I'm sure they will suit you."

Rachel nodded. "Sure. Once more, thank you so much."

Elara hung up.

A few minutes later, Rachel was dressed in a casual outfit and adorned herself with some jewelries that fitted perfectly. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, she had lost a lot of weight and had become lean.

"Where are you going?" A voice said from the hallway. Rachel turned. It was Bryce, he was dressed in a tuxedo suit that fitted perfectly, his hair sleek and pulled back. He was still adjusting his tie.

Rachel smiled, "I think that question is meant for Marissa." She replied calmly and turned to keep going.

Bryce stopped on his track. "You are still my wife," Rachel paused. "I deserve to know your whereabouts."

Rachel's fist clenched at her sides, "My whereabouts would be the most insignificant thing in your life...so don't pretend like you care."

Bryce walked towards her, "if it was going to be an insignificant thing, I wouldn't bother asking."

Rachel turned back to him, "I'm going to a friend's place. What do you gain from my where-"

He cut her off, "I'll drop you."

Rachel's breath hitched. Bryce wanted to drop her off? It sounded so unusual and unlike him. Did he say it just to mock her? Or to make her regret the decision of accepting the divorce.

She let out a bitter laugh, "That would be so kind of you. But you needn't to worry, I'll tell Alton to drop me. Thank you."

Bryce squinted before letting out an amused laughter. "Worry? I did not say I was worried, Rachel. I only said I want to drop you at your destination, and I will."

Rachel's chest twisted painfully. He had a way to say things that always hurt her, but he never cared. She swallowed hard as her hands clenched into fist to keep herself steady.

"Bryce..." She was just about to speak when Bryce walked up to her and slid a hand on her waist. He raised her chin to meet his gaze as he stared into her chestnut eyes.

"Come wife, let me drop you off. Wouldn't it be rude for a wife to turn down the request of her beloved husband?" He stared, waiting for a reply.

Rachel stared into his eyes, tears welling up in hers. When they both got married, Rachel would have melted into Bryce's arms the moment he slid his hands on her waist, but now- everything was different.

His touch did not have an effect on her anymore.

She clenched her jaw and gave a small nod. "Yes, it would be rude." She responded.

Bryce smiled, "Now, let us go wife, in order not to be late to our various destinations."

He released her and began to walk away. Rachel exhaled slowly and carefully followed him behind.

Something was wrong. Rachel could sense that. The last time she entered the same car with Bryce was on their first anniversary, which was almost two years ago.

The car was silent, save for the hum of the car engine engine as it drove down the pebbled path.

Rachel stared out of the window, her hands fumbling in her laps. She had missed this moment, she had missed it so much but she was very aware that this was the last time.

"You look beautiful," Bryce says casually. "Especially with those necklaces, I like the way it adorned your neck."

Rachel turns and gapes at him. His words made her chest warm even though her mind told her not to fall for it.

She clears her throat, "Thank you."

Bryce shifted closer to her, his cologne almost choking her breath. She glared at him, refusing to show how much his nearness made her warm.

"So..." he drawls. "Where do you plan to go?"

"That wouldn't be necessary." Rachel replied curtly.

Bryce let out a scoff laced with disdain. "Is this how you talk to your husband?" He said, eyes fixed on her. "Even after all the years of being distant? I thought you wanted fourteen days, as my wife."

"I did. I wanted to repay you for accommodating me, I did not say you would flirt with me. How do you think Marissa would feel seeing us this close?" Rachel's voice was clear.

Bryce pulled back slightly, his eyes still fixed on her. "I want to ask you a question, and I need an honest answer."

Rachel's heart skipped a beat. "What?"

Bryce did not answer right away. He only stared at her, making her uncomfortable.

"We have reached your destination, Mrs Voss." Alton reminded them

Rachel made to open the door and come out...but then, Bryce's hand stopped her. He placed his hands on hers, making her jolt.

"What is your problem?" She whispered, eyes widening.

"Shhhh... I'm not done talking," he warned. "How did Elara Anderson know about the divorce? You know very much how I hate her, so tell me wife, did you tell her?"

Rachel gulped down nothing and her heart pounded. How did he know she told Elara? Was that the reason he proposed a drive?

"Well..." he continued. "Just tell her to keep running, because if I lay my eyes on her again...she would live her remaining days in jail."

He opened the door. "Have fun, wife. It has been a nice drive with you."

Rachel stepped down from the car. She was terrified. He wanted to put Elara in jail- for what reason? She watched the car drive off, though she could barely see through the tinted glass.

"Babe!" Elara said from behind, she was already prepared. "Why are you standing there like a stranger? Come on in."

Rachel smiled faintly, "How did you know I was here?"

"I saw when the Rolls Royce car pulled up, so I decided to stay and wait to confirm it's you. Come on, birthday girl. We don't have much time left."

A few minutes later, Rachel was dressed in the clothes Elara had bought. A short, black, velvet gown that fitted her body perfectly. Luckily, the jewelry she had chosen matched with the outfit.

"Isn't it too short?" Rachel asked worriedly because the gown exposed her thighs slightly.

"No, it's not." Elara said. "It suits you. And also, remove that ring from your finger, you're no longer married."

Rachel wanted to protest but kept her mouth shut. As she stared at herself in the mirror, Rachel couldn't stop feeling uncomfortable in the dress.

"Elara." She called out.

"Yes."

"Did you confront Bryce about the divorce?" Rachel asked, her voice low.

"What did he tell you?" Elara asked, ignoring Rachel's question.

"He said the next time he sees you, he was going to make you spend your remaining days in jail." Rachel said, her voice laced with concern. "Tell me, what did you tell him?"

Elara laughed hard. "What the heck? He was going to make me spend my days in jail? God, that man doesn't seem to stop amazing me!" She laughed. "Oh, yes. I confronted him and threatened him. Nothing much though."

"Elara, you shouldn't have-" Rachel was cut off sharply.

"As much as I talked to him, I wanted to kick him at his balls and teach him what pain looked like, but I considered you. Don't worry, Rachel. His threat is empty."

Rachel stared at her blankly.

"Well, come on girl. Our reservation would expire at dusk, I want us to enjoy it to the fullest."