Chapter 1
At six in the morning, Richard would head out for his run. It was a ritual he never missed.
By seven-thirty, he'd be back with my favorite croissant from that famous old bakery, take a quick shower, and we'd have breakfast together. Then, at eight-thirty, he'd head off to work.
But today, the croissant tasted off, almost fishy, like they'd been sitting out all night. And to make things worse, there were a couple of curly hairs tangled inside.
"So, you're not actually suspecting Richard of cheating, are you?" Susan Nash laughed.
Susan Nash was laughing so hard she nearly fell over.
"Seriously, everyone in the capital knows Richard is completely devoted to his wife. He's famous for being head over heels for you." Susan said.
"He loves you so much he'd probably die for you. You must be really bored to even come up with this." she added.
Susan started counting off on her fingers.
"If we're talking worst-case scenario, even if he wanted to cheat, he'd need time, right?" Susan asked.
"He comes home at eleven, heads back to work at one, and is back again by seven," Susan went on.
"Whenever he's at the office, day or night, he's always working with you on video call," she said.
"Even when he has to go out at night for business dinners or trips, he always brings you along," she added.
Susan snatched Richard's tablet off the coffee table and shoved it into my hands.
"Here. His WhatsApp and Messenger are logged in on both his phone and tablet, so you can check his messages anytime. How could he possibly cheat? With his mind?" Susan asked.
Just then, Richard started a video call. He locked his eyes on me, then suddenly spaced out, lost in thought.
He absently ran his fingers over the table and gently bit his lower lip.
I asked, "What's wrong?"
He came back to himself, his gaze softening. He said quietly, "I miss you."
Susan let out a playful "ahem," and only then did Richard notice her.
"Ask Susan if she's staying for lunch," he said.
"You didn't eat much for breakfast, so I'll come back early and bring a few of your favorite dishes," he continued.
"Tell the housekeeper not to cook today," he added.
Susan leaned over to read the message and let out a dramatic "Ugh!"
"No way. I'm heading home in a bit. You two are way too lovey-dovey for me." Susan said.
Richard's message came through right after.
Richard texted: [I had my assistant check out the croissant situation.]
[Looks like it was a new employee at the shop who cut corners and skipped the hairnet, so some hair fell into the croissant.]
[The health inspectors will be dropping by this afternoon to check things out.]
Susan read the message, shaking her head in admiration and envy.
"Richard's got a million things going on, and he's still fussing over your croissant," she said.
"Julia Reed, you better treasure him," she added.
She gave my shoulder a friendly pat, chatted for a bit, then got up to leave.
Richard has been a part of every single memory in my life.
When he was seven, a car accident took away his parents and grandparents.
He was the only one who made it out alive, dragged from the wreckage in the back seat.
My parents took him in and gave him a home. He moved in with us when I had turned one.
My parents were teachers, always buried in books and papers, with hardly any time for anything else.
Richard was the one who held my hand as I took my first steps, and he was always by my side as I grew up.
It wasn't until I got older that I realized he was haunted by nightmares, jerking awake in the middle of the night, soaked in sweat, shaking all over.
So every night, I'd scoot closer to him and gently hug him tight.
I didn't really get what loss meant back then. All I knew was, if I held him, he'd calm down and wouldn't be so scared.
We were childhood sweethearts, and every "first" in life, we gave them all to each other.
The first time we held hands, the first time we watched the sunset together, side by side.
The first flutter of our hearts, the first time we secretly blushed for each other.
We'd spent decades side by side, so familiar with each other it felt like our closeness was written in our DNA.
Falling for each other was inevitable, it was bound to happen.
From the start, it was always only us, no one else ever mattered.
I knew him better than I knew myself.
If anything ever felt off about him, even the smallest thing, I'd notice it right away.
Richard was back.
He made a point to come home early today, carrying an insulated lunchbox in his hand.
At thirty-two, time seemed to have been especially kind to Richard.
His features were more chiseled than in his youth, and he still stood tall and straight.
The moment he saw me, the cold, sharp lines of his face melted into warmth.
He set the lunchbox down, then leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.
"I came back to be with you," he said softly.
I nodded, not thinking much of it at the time.
It wasn't until later, when I saw it on the financial news, that I realized what had happened that morning.
There was a video conference at Lane Corp for an overseas acquisition worth tens of billions of dollars.
Because Chairman Lane was unexpectedly absent, the entire meeting was postponed for three days.
"There's a charity gala tonight that I can't get out of. I've already had the designer send over a few dresses for you. Try them on this afternoon and pick your favorite," Richard said.
"The stylist will be here at three," he added.
I didn't say anything, just picked up my fork.
The food was delicious. Richard sat across from me, put food on my plate, and asked what Susan and I had done that morning.
Everything felt like it had on countless days before.
Warm, peaceful.
Nothing to complain about.
But for some reason, I couldn't shake off a strange feeling.
Out of nowhere, I remembered the breakfast pastry from this morning.
And those weird curly hairs tangled inside.