Rising from Betrayal

Chapter 006

He slowly clenched his fist.

"And if I ever become that pathetic again..."

"I'll deserve everything that happens to me."

He let out a long breath.

"To hell with this love."

"From now on, I only care about two things. My family... and making big money."

The last sentence came out almost like a roar.

It wasn't directed at Mrs. Walker.

It was a declaration to himself.

A promise forged from two lifetimes of regret.

Mrs. Walker instinctively glanced toward the door.

From beneath the gap at the bottom, the shadows of feet that hadn't moved were still visible.

The neighbors were still lingering.

She lowered her voice, "I understand, Mr. Calloway. But perhaps... you should keep your voice down. The neighbors are still outside."

"Let them hear." Norman shrugged. "I'd bet they're already placing bets on how long it takes before I give in and run after Vivienne."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"They're all going to lose. Tonight I just want to eat a proper meal and start living for myself."

Mrs. Walker couldn't help smiling awkwardly.

She knew Norman was right.

She had worked in this luxury apartment complex for years.

The housekeepers here talked.

They all knew Norman.

Some of them had even joked about how long he'd hold out before giving in whenever he argued with his wife.

Mrs. Walker had never joined those conversations.

Professionalism wouldn't allow it.

Still...

Deep down, she had never truly believed Norman would change.

During the time she'd worked for the Calloways...

She had never once seen him stand up to Vivienne.

No matter how unreasonable her demands became, Norman always found a way to indulge her.

So when he mentioned divorce...

Mrs. Walker hadn't believed him either.

Not at first.

But looking at the man sitting quietly on the sofa...

Mrs Walker suddenly wasn't so sure anymore.

She stood there a few seconds longer.

Then she gave a quiet nod.

“Very well, Mr Calloway. I’ll prepare dinner.”

Without another word, she turned and walked back into the kitchen.

It didn't take long.

Mrs. Walker returned from the kitchen carrying a tray—steak in a pepper sauce still letting off thin wisps of steam, a bowl of cream soup, and a glass of cold wine.

She set everything on the table with careful hands, then quietly stepped back.

The rich aroma hit Norman almost instantly.

Butter. Black pepper. Seared beef.

His empty stomach tightened so hard it almost hurt.

He hadn't realized just how hungry he was until that very moment.

For an instant, he wanted nothing more than to forget the knife and fork and devour everything on the table.

He stopped himself.

Instead, he picked up the knife and fork, cut into the meat, and brought the first bite to his mouth.

His eyes closed for a second.

Tender.

Juicy.

Perfectly cooked.

Good. Really good.

Not just because the cooking was exceptional—though it was—but because this was the first time in twenty-two years he had eaten without being interrupted.

No Vivienne complaining about the menu.

No members of the Desmond family showing up unannounced and emptying the refrigerator without asking.

No pressure of any kind hanging in the air above this dining table like a dark cloud.

Just him, his food, and a silence that felt like what home was supposed to feel like.

The corner of his mouth moved upward. Slowly, without him noticing.

Why did it take this long?

The thought arrived on its own—light, but sharp as a needle.

He had gone back to the past, had been given a second chance that most people never got, and the first thing that made him smile was a bowl of soup and a steak.

That was how bad things had been for twenty-two years.

He had sacrificed everything for Vivienne. His time, his energy, even his own family.

His father, his mother, his younger sister—all of them had died without him by their side.

All of it for a woman who had never truly seen him.

Fool.

Norman drew a slow breath, then let it go.

There was no point blaming himself for a past that could no longer be changed again and again.

What he could do now was make sure the same mistakes were never repeated.

This time, he would live for himself—and protect the people who actually mattered.

"Mrs. Walker."

The old woman appeared from the kitchen, drying her hands on her apron. "Yes, sir?"

"The food is wonderful." Norman lifted his glass slightly—a small gesture, but genuine. "Thank you."

Mrs. Walker paused for a moment.

Then a smile appeared on her face. Not the polite, professional one she usually wore as a housekeeper, but one that came from somewhere much deeper than that.

"Mr. Calloway," she said quietly, "I should be the one thanking you. I've never seen you eat in peace like this."

Norman looked at her for a moment, then nodded.

Mrs. Walker went back to the kitchen—this time without the weight on her shoulders.