Chapter 40– The Dinner Tension
The party had dragged on longer than Andre expected. Music thundered through the hall, colored lights flashing against walls gilded with celebrities, models, and sponsors. It was the kind of glamorous chaos that suited Mo Yue perfectly—his element, his stage, his kingdom. Wei Yuxiang trailed him with easy familiarity, laughing and clinking glasses whenever someone came up to toast the star.
Andre, on the other hand, stood apart. He had come because he had to, not because he wanted to. His clean blue baggy jeans, black long-sleeved shirt, and white canvas shoes marked him as out of place amidst the sequins and designer suits. He didn't care. Fashion had never been his battlefield.
By the time the party ended, Mo Yue was swaying slightly, his cheeks flushed from too many drinks pressed into his hand by well-wishers. Wei Yuxiang, though steadier, had a loose grin that told Andre he was also tipsy.
Andre called the driver, ensuring Mo Yue was ushered safely into the car and Yuxiang was taken back to his hotel. He gave a small smile when Yuxiang joked about him being "the responsible one."
"I'll take a taxi," Andre said firmly, waving off the driver's protest. "Don't worry about me. Just get them back safely."
He stood by the curb, watching the car pull away, relief washing over him. At least the night wouldn't end in some scandal. Turning, he lifted his hand to flag down a taxi when his phone vibrated in his pocket.
The screen flashed: Yichen.
Andre's expression hardened. It was the third time tonight. He had ignored the calls each time, refusing to deal with the man after last night's suffocating confusion. But here it was again—a fourth call. Persistent. Relentless.
He hesitated, teeth clenched. Then, with a sharp sigh, he slid his thumb across the screen.
"Hello," he answered, his voice flat.
"…." Silence greeted him at first, only the faint sound of steady breathing on the other end.
"Why are you calling?" Andre pressed coldly.
"Where are you?" Yichen's voice was calm, steady, yet carrying that quiet command Andre had grown to resent.
"Why?"
"I want to pick you up."
Andre let out a dry laugh, mocking. "And why, Mr. Zhen? Since when are we close enough for you to play chauffeur? Or…" his tone dropped icily, "…was last night just you catching an attitude? Hm?"
The pause on the line stretched long. Andre's fingers tightened around his phone, half-regretting the words even as he said them. Finally, Yichen replied, ignoring the mockery completely.
"We have dinner with your mother by eight. Did you forget?"
Andre froze. Damn. He had.
"…I'm at—" he rattled off his address reluctantly.
"I'll be there in ten minutes," Yichen said.
Andre's lips pressed into a thin line as the call ended abruptly. He stared at the black screen, the reflection of his tired face glaring back at him. "What the hell is wrong with you, Andre?" he muttered, shaking his head.
Thirty minutes later, Andre sat stiffly in a private dining room of a high-end restaurant. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and expensive wine. Opposite him, Celia looked radiant in her understated elegance, smiling warmly despite her faint scolding tone. Beside her sat Yichen, perfectly composed, his pale features unreadable under the soft lights.
Silence stretched between them until Celia finally broke it.
"Andre, why weren't you picking up your calls?" she asked, her tone firm but not harsh. "You delayed an eight o'clock family dinner. I almost cancelled, if not for Yichen insisting we hold it today before his trip."
Andre lowered his gaze, fiddling with his napkin. "…I'm sorry. I was in the middle of something, so I couldn't pick up."
"You should have at least texted me," Celia said gently, though there was an undercurrent of reprimand.
"I'm sorry, Mom."
Her face softened. "It's fine. At least we're here together. That's what matters."
Andre's lips pressed into a tight line. Together as a family. The words rang hollow.
Celia turned to Yichen. "So, Yichen, when are you leaving for your trip? And for how long? You hardly rest these days, always buried in work."
Before he could reply, their dishes were served, the clink of plates momentarily filling the silence.
"Let's eat," Celia said brightly, deflecting the tension.
They ate quietly for a few minutes until she returned to her earlier question. "Oh, Yichen, I was asking about your trip before we were interrupted."
Yichen set down his chopsticks neatly. "I'll be leaving tomorrow. The trip will take three months."
Celia's eyes widened. "Three months? You'll be gone through September?"
"Yes," he answered simply.
"Wow… you'll be away when Andre is sitting for his college exams."
"Correct."
Her brow creased with concern. "Well, just… take care of yourself. You look paler every day. You need rest, Yichen. Please don't neglect your health."
Andre glanced between them, a strange twist tightening in his chest. Celia's words carried the tenderness of a sister worrying for her younger brother, not a wife speaking to her husband.
Yichen inclined his head slightly. "Thank you, Celia. I'll be careful."
"Oh, don't thank me," she waved him off softly. "Just focus on eating now. And Andre—remember to prepare well for your exams, okay?"
Andre gave a curt nod. "…Okay."
But his mind wasn't on exams. As he chewed silently, he studied the two of them—their interaction, their distance. It was unlike anything he'd seen between his parents back when they were still married. His mother and father had quarreled, yes, but there had been affection, tension, the unmistakable presence of passion. What Celia and Yichen shared looked nothing like that.
If he hadn't seen their marriage certificate with his own eyes, he would never believe they were husband and wife.
His gaze shifted to Yichen, who ate with measured calm, every gesture refined. Pale. Elegant. Distant. For a moment, Andre's thoughts churned in quiet rebellion. This man… leaving for three months? Running?
As if sensing the weight of Andre's stare, Yichen looked up. Their eyes locked—Andre's silver-gray burning, searching, demanding. Yichen's composure faltered just slightly before he forced his gaze back down to his food.
'Thank goodness I'm leaving for a while,' Yichen thought grimly.
Andre smirked faintly, chuckling under his breath. 'Looks like I scared the hell out of him last night.'
"What's funny, Ani?" Celia asked curiously, startled by the sudden laugh.
Yichen looked up too, his dark eyes sharp with unspoken questions.
Andre shook his head, lips curling. "Nothing. Just thought of something interesting."
"Oh? Must have been very interesting if it made you laugh like that," Celia said lightly.
"It's nothing," Andre repeated, dismissing it.
"Well, if you say so." She smiled, setting her chopsticks down. "Eat up. It's getting late."
Andre nodded, but his thoughts were far from the food.
Across the table, Yichen resumed eating in silence, his noble mask firmly back in place. Unreachable. Controlled. But Andre's smirk didn't fade.
'Run all you like, Yichen,' Andre thought, his chest tight with an unnamed hunger. 'Let's see how far you get. You already know you can't escape me. you know.. you are making addiction to his feeling.'
Let's see how long you can run Yichen. I don't know if I can stop this emotion growing in me.