Chapter 5

When Amelia opened her eyes the next morning, the space beside her in bed was already cold.

She turned toward the nightstand and saw that it was just past seven. A small handwritten note was tucked beneath her phone.

Gone for an early run before the market opens. See you at breakfast. Love, Adrian.

She read it twice before setting it down.

The uneasy feeling from the night before was still there. She remembered Adrian stepping away to take that phone call and the strange distance in his manner when he returned. She had spent too much of the night wondering about it.

But perhaps she was overthinking things.

Adrian had been under pressure lately. The company was growing, investors were demanding more of his time, and one strange phone call didn't necessarily mean anything.

Determined not to let her imagination ruin another day, Amelia got out of bed and tied her robe around her waist. She began gathering Adrian's clothes from around the room, as she did most mornings.

His dress shirt and trousers were draped over the armchair, while his dark suit jacket hung over the back.

She picked up the jacket and checked the pockets out of habit before taking it downstairs. Her fingers brushed against something in the right breast pocket.

A folded receipt.

Amelia opened it casually, but the moment she saw the name at the top, her expression changed.

L'Orangerie.

She stared at it.

That was the restaurant Natalie had mentioned.

Her eyes moved down the receipt. Champagne. Oysters. Two dessert platters. An expensive main course. The total came to more than twelve hundred dollars.

Amelia's brows drew together.

Adrian had described the dinner as a quick business meeting, but this hardly looked like a quick dinner. Still, there could be an explanation. His business dealings often involved people who thought nothing of spending that kind of money.

She folded the receipt again, but before she could put it back, something near the inside of the jacket caught her attention.

She turned the collar toward the light.

A faint red lipstick stain marked the grey fabric.

Amelia's fingers froze.

She didn't wear red lipstick. She had always preferred soft, neutral glosses, and Adrian had often told her he liked her natural look.

She stared at the stain, her mind immediately connecting it to the restaurant.

Then she shook her head.

No.

She wasn't going to jump to conclusions again.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs broke the silence.

A moment later, the sound of steady footsteps traveled up the staircase.

Adrian appeared at the bedroom door wearing dark workout clothes, a towel hanging loosely around his neck. His hair was slightly damp from his run, and beads of sweat still glistened along his forehead. He looked completely at ease, as though nothing in the world could possibly be wrong.

His face brightened when he saw her.

"Good morning, babe," he said warmly, wiping his forehead with the towel. "I thought you'd still be asleep."

Amelia didn't answer immediately.

She was still holding the jacket.

Adrian's eyes dropped to it, then to the receipt in her hand.

For the briefest moment, something unreadable crossed his face.

It vanished almost immediately.

Amelia noticed it anyway.

She held out the receipt, her fingers tightening around the edge. "I found this in your jacket."

Adrian walked farther into the room, his gaze settling on the receipt before returning to her face. "The L'Orangerie receipt?"

His voice was calm, almost casual.

Amelia nodded, but the uneasy feeling in her chest only grew stronger.

"You told me it was just a quick business dinner," she said, lifting the receipt slightly between them. "But this doesn't look like a quick dinner, Adrian. There was champagne, oysters, desserts, and enough food to make me wonder how long you were actually sitting there."

Adrian exhaled softly, and rather than becoming defensive, he moved closer to her.

"I know how it looks," he said, his voice gentle as he reached for the receipt. "But you're looking at the bill without knowing what happened at the table."

Amelia hesitated before allowing him to take it.

He glanced over the receipt and gave a small, almost amused shake of his head.

"The investor couldn't make it himself," he explained, folding the paper between his fingers. "He sent one of his associates to meet me instead. She was the one who insisted on ordering all of this. I tried to keep the dinner focused on the deal, but she kept adding things to the table and putting everything on the company account."

Amelia studied his face.

"She ordered twelve hundred dollars' worth of food and champagne?"

A faint smile tugged at Adrian's mouth as he stepped closer and gently placed a hand around her waist.

"Apparently, twelve hundred dollars is what some people consider a normal business dinner," he said, trying to lighten the tension. "You know how these investors are. Sometimes they want to impress you before they even start discussing the numbers."

Amelia wanted to smile at the joke, but her attention had already returned to the jacket.

She slowly lifted it between them.

"And this?"

Adrian followed her gaze.

The warmth in his expression faded slightly as he noticed the lipstick on the collar.

Amelia watched his face carefully.

"There's lipstick on your jacket, Adrian."

He took the jacket from her hands and examined the mark himself. His thumb brushed over the faint red stain as his brows drew together.

"I didn't even notice that."

Amelia's eyes narrowed slightly.

"How could you not notice it?"

Adrian looked back at her, and this time there was a hint of confusion in his expression rather than anger.

"Because I wasn't looking at my collar when I left the restaurant," he said, letting out a quiet breath. "I was thinking about the deal, Amelia. I got home late, I was exhausted, and I took the jacket off without even looking at it."

He held the collar up again, examining the lipstick more closely.

Then his expression softened.

"She probably kissed my cheek when we said goodbye. It was one of those European greetings where people kiss each other on both cheeks. If she was wearing lipstick, it could have easily brushed against the collar."

Amelia remained quiet.

The explanation made sense.

At least, it was possible.

But there was still a part of her that couldn't quite let go of what she had seen.

Adrian noticed the hesitation on her face.

He lowered the jacket and stepped closer until there was barely any space between them.

"Amelia," he said softly, reaching up to touch her cheek, "why are you looking at me like you don't believe me?"

She lowered her eyes.

"I don't know."

Her voice came out quieter than she intended.

"I saw the receipt, and then I saw the lipstick, and after everything Natalie told me yesterday..." She paused, struggling to put the feeling into words. "I suppose I started wondering if there was something you weren't telling me."

Adrian's expression changed.

Instead of looking offended, he looked almost hurt.

He gently turned her face toward him, his thumb resting against her cheek.

"Is this really about what Natalie said?"

Amelia didn't answer right away.

That silence was enough.

Adrian sighed and pulled her gently against him.

"Baby, you know me better than anyone," he murmured, resting his chin lightly against the top of her head. "We've been together for eight years. You were there when I had nothing but an idea and a borrowed office. You watched me work sixteen-hour days trying to turn that idea into something real. Do you honestly think I would throw all of that away because of a woman I met at a business dinner?"

Amelia closed her eyes.

His words struck something deep inside her.

She remembered those early years—the tiny office, the late nights, the endless conversations about the company, the times she had stayed awake waiting for him to come home. She remembered how much they had built together and how certain she had always been that Adrian was the one person she could trust completely.

She slowly pulled back enough to look at him.

"I know what we've been through," she whispered. "That's why I don't want to believe there's anything wrong."

Adrian's eyes softened.

"Then don't let one strange evening make you doubt eight years of your life."

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss against her forehead.

"I should have told you more about the dinner," he admitted. "Maybe then you wouldn't have had to find a receipt and a lipstick stain and start putting things together in your head. But there was nothing going on, Amelia. I promise you."

She searched his eyes for something—anything—that would tell her he was lying.

But all she saw was the man she had known for eight years. The man who had held her when they had nothing.

Eventually, Amelia let out a slow breath.

"Okay," she said, though the word came with a hesitation she couldn't completely hide. "Maybe I was letting everything get to me."

Adrian smiled, and relief seemed to soften his features.

He slipped an arm around her waist and gave her a gentle squeeze.

"That's all I'm asking. Don't punish yourself for being worried, but don't punish me for something I didn't do either."

A reluctant smile appeared on Amelia's face.

"I'll try."

"That's my girl."

He kissed her temple before reaching for his towel.

"Now come downstairs with me before my mother decides you've deliberately kept breakfast waiting just to annoy her."

Amelia laughed softly.

"She already thinks I do everything deliberately."

"Exactly," Adrian said with a grin as he opened the bedroom door. "So let's not give her another reason to complain."