The Perfect Wife's Perfect Revenge novel Chapter 661

As the days ticked down to what would have been the Mid-Autumn Festival back home, Gwyneth felt a strange, creeping anxiety she couldn’t quite explain.

Just as she was about to clock out for the day, her phone buzzed. Hawthorne was calling.

“What do you want for dinner tonight?”

Gwyneth paused, thinking it over. Nothing in particular came to mind, but the fondue at Greenvale was famous all over the country. She’d been there a few times and honestly, it was pretty great.

“Fondue?” she ventured, her tone rising hopefully.

She wasn’t sure if Hawthorne would be into it. They rarely ate anything close to her own comfort food when they were together. Sure, she missed the warmth and informality of her old favorites, but she also knew the lingering smell of oil and spices stuck to her hair and clothes for hours. After a meal, she always felt like she’d been marinated in the kitchen.

And then there was Hawthorne, always turning up for dinner in a crisp suit, looking more like he belonged at an awards gala than hunched over a bubbling pot at a cozy restaurant. The whole thing was almost comically mismatched—like pairing red wine with cheese fries.

“Sure,” Hawthorne agreed without missing a beat. “If that’s what you want, let’s do it.”

Gwyneth barely had time to process his answer when a coworker popped her head into the office.

“Hey Gwyn, we’re grabbing dinner after work. You in?” It was unexpected, but she really wanted to join.

Hawthorne must have overheard, because Gwyneth changed her mind on the spot. “How about we go next time instead?” she said quickly into the phone.

······

Hawthorne hadn’t expected Gwyneth to ditch their dinner plans for an office get-together. He felt a surge of irritation—he kept it to himself, though, gripping his phone tightly, jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

“Alright,” he said coolly. “Just let me know when you’re done, and I’ll pick you up.”

He could already predict she’d turn him down, so he added, “I can wait outside. No one will notice.”

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