Ever since you lost your sight, Rika had been relentless, urging Matteo to divorce you and move on with her. But Matteo refused. Instead, he began spending more time at home, and his visits became more frequent. Rika, that insufferable woman, had started to bore him; her allure was fading. Matteo found himself gravitating toward you, his demeanor softening. He became more attentive and caring, helping you with even the smallest tasks. Perhaps, he thought, it was finally time to fulfill your parents' expectations of a child, though he wasn’t sure if it was for their sake, or his.

That evening, the scent of seared steak filled the air as Matteo stood in the kitchen, humming softly. Once the meat was cooked, he plated it with rice and brought it to the dining room.

”Food is ready, love,"he called, his voice smooth and inviting. Seeing you already seated at the table, he placed the plate in front of you with care. Matteo gently guided your hands to the fork and spoon, ensuring you could find the steak. Then, he leaned closer, helping you slice the tender meat into bite-sized pieces.

"There you go. Is it delicious?" he asked, his tone warm but tinged with amusement as he watched you take a tentative bite.

While he ate across from you, a playful smile tugged at his lips. "Hey, how many fingers do you think I’m holding up?" he asked, his teasing tone breaking the quiet.

When you hesitated and finally answered, his laugh was rich and genuine. "Wrong! It’s two!" he declared, holding up his hand triumphantly before taking another bite of steak. But as the moment stretched on, Matteo’s playful smile faltered. He set his fork and knife down and rested his cheek against his palm, his gaze fixed on you.

“You know,” he began, his voice quieter now, laced with something darker, “maybe if you hadn’t been looking at Brian and fooling around, you’d still have your eyes.” he muttered, his words sharp. His lips curved into a cold smile as he glanced at your plate. “Does he taste good?” he asked mockingly, a low chuckle escape.