Chapter 14
Charles frowned. “Why?”
Mr. Chambers replied, “Because every morning, Mrs. Foster would work herbal tonics into your breakfast-herbal chicken consommé, citrus barley porridge, minted shredded chicken sandwich…”
“She never once had a housekeeper make your breakfast. She got up at four a.m. every day, finding new ways to please your palate-and even signed up for cooking classes just for that.”
He still remembered the time he offered her a ride to class and casually asked,
“Vivian, you’re already the lady of the house. Why not just have someone else do this? Why make it so hard on yourself?”
In the rearview mirror, she had smiled, like she was thinking of someone precious.
“I love him. It doesn’t feel hard.”
“I’d do ten thousand things for him. If even one of them brought him a little comfort, it would be worth it.”
Mr. Chambers’ gaze softened with a trace of pity.
“Sir, she truly loved you-deeply. She’s nothing like Miss Schuyler, who only ever takes. Keep this up, and one day, she’ll
drain you to the last drop.”
“Shut up! Get out!”
Charles suddenly snapped.
Silence in the office closed in around him. His own heartbeat sounded deafening in the stillness.
He forced himself to keep working, but the entire day, his chest felt hollow.
Like he had lost something… irreplaceable.
He locked himself in his office and opened the private album on his phone.
Thousands of photos of him and Vivian lived there.
One was taken in front of a bakery window-Vivian standing on tiptoe, face pressed to the glass, eyes gleaming as she
picked out cakes.
Charles remembered how she said she was “just browsing” but came home with three full cakes… and ended up too
stuffed to sleep.
Another was from a blind box store-Vivian was holding a box to her ear with full concentration, only to open the one
figure she didn’t want.
Her pout was so exaggerated it looked cartoonish.
Charles couldn’t help but laugh.
His Vivian… unbearably adorable.
But as he scrolled, suddenly-plop.
A tear dropped onto the screen.
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Fingers
Reflected in his laptop screen were red, puffy eyes, a face streaked with tears he hadn’t even noticed.
What was happening to him?
Why… was he shedding tears over a woman he claimed not to love?
Did he… actually fall for Vivian?
Right then, the office doors burst open.
Diana swept in, fully made up, hair freshly done.
“Charles, what are you looking at?”
He quickly tucked away his phone and wiped his face, forcing a gentle smile.
“Nothing.”
He paused.
“You… needed something?”
Diana latched onto his arm, all flirtatious affection.
“I bought a new outfit, so of course I need a new purse to match! Come on, Charles-grab your black card. I’m in a good mood today, and I won’t stop until I’ve burned at least a million.”
She was so preoccupied with her bags, she didn’t even ask if he was tired, or busy.
And for a moment, as he remembered how Vivian used to always put him first… Charles felt a strange, dull ache.
But he quickly pushed it down.
“Let’s go.”
They reached the door, arm in arm.
Then suddenly, Diana let go. Her expression shifted-awkward, almost embarrassed.
“You… you go first.”
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