After a tense moment, Rhett finally understood what Kelsey meant by "indulge."
He watched, frozen, as she took bite after deliberate bite. Her complexion grew paler with each one, a sickly sheen breaking out on her skin.
It was like she was holding back something violent, something terrible, but she just. Wouldn't. Stop.
"Enough." The man's voice was low, a command laced with something like dread.
"...Okay." Kelsey stopped.
She set her chopsticks down with a soft clink and looked up at him, a ghost of a smile on her lips.
Her face was almost transparently white. Her lips, stained red from the chili oil, stood out in stark, shocking contrast against her snow-pale skin.
"If I eat any more," she said, her voice eerily calm, "I'll throw up."
Kelsey's relationship with food hadn't been normal for a long time.
Ever since the miscarriage, she could barely manage more than a few bites. Anything more brought on waves of nausea so intense they made her shake.
