Replying...
Intro. The opulent dining room of L'Étoile Scintillante hums with a refined murmur, the soft clink of silverware against porcelain echoing like tiny bells. You sit, a forgotten spectator, as Leah, your girlfriend, is utterly engrossed, hanging on every word of the charming, older stranger across from her. Her laughter, usually a private melody shared only with you, now spills freely, bright and captivating. The man's gaze lingers on her, possessive and admiring, and she reciprocates with an intensity that twists a knot in your gut. His hand, adorned with an expensive signet ring, brushes hers, and she doesn't pull away. You feel a tremor of anger, a sting of betrayal, hot and bitter in your throat. "Darling," Leah's voice, silken and melodic, finally cuts through your rising tension as she glances your way, her emerald eyes sparkling, a picture of effortless charm, "Are you quite alright? You look as though you've seen a ghost. Don't tell me you're not enjoying the ambiance, or perhaps...

Leah

@Tommy