The following Wednesday, Narcissa's girlfriends insisted that they leave the comforts of their homes in the Muggle world for a night out in Diagon Alley. A new French restaurant had just opened to rave reviews. The establishment had been the talk of the town, and her girlfriends simply had to try it. Narcissa hadn't wanted to go, claiming that she'd eaten far better food in France. Her girlfriends begged her to come, claiming the night wouldn't be the same without her. Also, according to the gossip rags, the chef was quite attractive, single and a great catch. Narcissa, ever curious about the goings-on in the Wizarding world, reluctantly agreed to accompany them.
Much to her surprise, she rather enjoyed herself that evening. The food, cooked to perfection, rivaled some of the best restaurants she'd dined at while in France. The chef visited their table often to discuss the various dishes and wines. He'd caught the eye of one of her friends, and he seemed taken by the woman. They were only halfway through dinner, and so far, it had been perfect. Narcissa wondered why she isolated herself from her former world and made a note to visit again soon.
However, Narcissa's feelings of perfection soon faded as her notoriety had its downfalls.
"I heard they only shagged once a week and slept in separate bedrooms," a woman seated at the table behind Narcissa whispered to her friends.
"Once a week? That's absolutely absurd!" a second woman cried. "Even Willie and I shag more than that!"
"I don't know about you, but I'd do anything and everything to keep a man like him in my bed," a third commented, fanning herself with her menu.
"He's so handsome!" exclaimed a fourth. "He looks even better now that he's not with her!"
The inane comments from the four women brought an angry blush to Narcissa's pale cheeks. They obviously hadn't a clue about what happened during her marriage. Their sex life had been healthy, and they engaged in it regularly. Sex simply hadn't been an issue between the two of them. In fact, the act held them together through the more difficult parts of their marriage. They'd never once slept in separate beds. That concept never made sense to them.
"Just look at her," demanded the first. "She's far too skinny! Men prefer women with curves… something to hold. I mean, who orders a salad out of all the things you can order here?" the woman complained, slamming her menu on the table.
"She's probably cold too. I mean, they don't call her the "Ice Queen" for nothing!" the second added. "As if a woman like that could show fire and passion in bed!" she finished with a huff.
The tips of Narcissa's ears turned red. She dug her nails into her thigh, desperately suppressing her desire to cast curses at the women. She shook her head and tried to focus on the conversation between her girlfriends.
"Don't mind them, dear," the girlfriend to her left whispered. "They're just jealous," she finished, patting Narcissa's hand.
"They clearly have no idea what they're talking about," the girlfriend to her right added.
Narcissa nodded and turned her attention back to her salad. She poked at it halfheartedly, having completely lost her appetite. This is exactly why I hate coming back here!
Her positive contributions to the Wizarding world no longer interested the writers of the Prophet and other publications. They'd gone back to printing stories on the downfall of the Malfoys' marriage. One tabloid even printed stories speculating on when the former power couple would file for divorce. The writers encouraged their readers to place their bets on the date. The reader who guessed closest to the actual date would win a decent amount of Galleons.
Worse of all, the papers printed stories about the relationships Lucius entered into following his separation. He'd been linked to many beautiful witches. Supposedly, Lucius had been a faithful man, save for a few dalliances at the start of their marriage. It only made sense for him to see someone else now that he wasn't with Narcissa. And so, he indulged in whoever caught his attention. The trashier publications even speculated that he'd fathered secret children after their separation. Another took an entirely different spin on it, claiming that Lucius' attentions turned to wizards, having completely given up on witches after his insufferable marriage to Narcissa.
The stories sickened her, and she hoped they weren't true. Then again, they'd separated. She'd slept with two other men, and she assumed he'd been with other women. Four years certainly was a long time to go without the comfort of someone else. Plus, Lucius' appetite for affection meant he couldn't last long being alone.
The thought of him with other women didn't sit well with her. It didn't matter that she was supposedly over him. A part of her heart would forever belong to him. Getting it back wouldn't be an easy task.
Sighing, she finally lifted her eyes from her plate to take in the lavish surroundings of the restaurant. Her happiness had long since faded, and she wanted to go home.
Her azure irises floated from tabletop to tabletop, lingering on the couples on dinner dates that evening. She focused on every heated gaze and soft caress, longing to experience those moments again. She recalled all the romantic dinners Lucius took her on during their marriage. It wasn't unlike Lucius to whisk her away to Paris for a lovely dinner overlooking the Seine. There was always something about Paris that made them much more amorous. Her face flushed as she recalled the passionate sessions they engaged in after dinner.
She immediately tried to push the memories from her mind, trying to channel her feelings upon discovering his journal and plans. She tried to focus on why she left him in the first place. Her efforts failed, and images of his toned body pressed against hers filled her mind.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar looking strand of blond hair that glittered in the light of the dining room.
"Daphne Greengrass?" a woman from the table behind her shrieked, shock colouring her voice. "He's with her now?"
"Isn't his son dating her sister? How convenient! Like father like son!" the second woman exclaimed.
"She is rather pretty," argued a third. "Bet you she's more warm and willing than his wife."
The other women agreed and launched into an animated conversation about the couple.
Narcissa felt woozy, and she felt the bile rise in her throat as she stared at the couple. They looked absolutely enamored with each other. Lucius' hand was over hers. Occasionally, he'd run it through Daphne's hair, tucking an errant strand of blonde hair that kept falling from the bun at the back of her head. Daphne would run her perfectly manicured nails up and down the exposed skin of his toned forearm. Lucius looked perfectly content, having the full attention of a young and beautiful witch.
He leaned forward and whispered something to Daphne. She smiled widely, and her melodic laugh filled the room, drawing looks from the diners beside them. Narcissa watched, in horror, as one of Daphne's hands slipped under the table and came to rest on Lucius' muscular thigh. Daphne's face flushed, and she squirmed in her seat. She tried to back away, but Lucius only pulled her closer.
He finally backed away after what seemed like ages. He pressed his lips against a spot behind Daphne's ear. Daphne responded with a fiery kiss to Lucius' lips.
Narcissa turned away, goosebumps forming on her flesh, unable to tear her eyes away from her husband's open display of affection. The spot behind her ear tingled, and she felt as if his lips were on her again, caressing the spot that drove her wild.
Unfortunately, his heart belonged to someone else.
"Excuse me," she announced to her girlfriends who'd noticed her reaction to Lucius' behaviour.
She all but ran to the nearest loo, kneeling before a toilet and emptying the contents of her stomach. She didn't bother to cast a silencing charm over the stall. What is wrong you? She didn't want Lucius anymore. Yet, she couldn't bear the thought of him with someone else.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Narcissa exclaimed, colliding into a woman who'd just entered the loo.
"It's alright, Mrs Malfoy. Are you OK?" Daphne Greengrass asked with a concerned look on her face. "Do you need me to get someone to help you?"
"No, thank you. It's quite alright," Narcissa responded, shaking her head. She stepped around Daphne and shoved her hands under the faucet, trying to control a blush from spreading across her cheeks. "It must have just been something I ate," she lied, hoping the younger witch wouldn't pursue it further.
Daphne nodded and proceeded to survey her perfect reflection in the mirror. Narcissa stole small glances at the younger woman who resembled her in a way. No wonder Lucius picked her.
"Well... it's been so nice seeing you again Mrs Malfoy," Daphne began, turning to look at the older woman. "Enjoy the rest of your evening," she chirped with a small smirk as if to rub in it Narcissa's face that Lucius belonged to her now.
Narcissa returned to her friends and watched as Lucius and Daphne engaged in another passionate kiss. She bade her girlfriends goodnight, claiming illness. They understood and wished her well.
"I'll check on her tomorrow," one woman offered.
"He's a royal arse showing up like that and flaunting it in her face," another spat, shooting a nasty glare his way.
"Poor Cissa," a third lamented.
Narcissa apparated to her flat, and flung herself on her bed, the scenes from dinner embedded in her mind. She fought to push them out, but all she could see was the dreamy smile etched on Lucius' face as he stared into Daphne's eyes.
She rushed to her loo, feeling sick yet again. After she finished, she laid on the cold tile floor, her slim shoulders shaking as she wept for the lost of what once was and what would never be.